Farming Life Starting in Africa

While driving, Miao Feng asked curiously, "Who's been kidnapped this time? Did your family sign an annual cooperation agreement with the kidnappers? Why is it happening one after another?"

"My uncle's old flame," Rosen sighed, his tone carrying a sense of helplessness, as if to say, "I'm destined to be a worrier all my life." "Damn it, the matching system in Africa is too surreal—kidnappers are everywhere, more numerous than food delivery riders. I need to pull over and talk to Lao Zhou."

As the monster slowed down, the three vehicles behind it gradually came to a stop. The tires rolled over the sand, kicking up a small cloud of dust that shimmered golden in the morning light.

Rosen jumped out of the passenger seat and patted the door of the BJ40.

Leng Feng poked his head out of the driver's side window, his face covered in dust. "What's wrong? Why did you stop the car?"

"Something's up!" Rosen shouted towards the passenger seat, "Old Zhou! Get out here for a second!"

Zhou Weijie pushed open the car door, rubbing his temples; he clearly hadn't slept well the night before—anyone would have trouble sleeping after shooting at a bunch of lunatics in the dark. "What's wrong?"

"Do you know anyone in Zaka's group? My uncle's friend might have been kidnapped by Zaka's organization. Could you help me find out how much it would cost to release him? Do you know anyone who can connect you with them?"

Zhou Weijie looked at Rosen with a strange expression, as if he had heard a very unfunny joke.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but then swallowed it back, finally managing to utter only, "Let me ask."

They didn't bring any money with them on this rescue trip; all they brought were bullets and bombs. If you want to buy someone from kidnappers, you need cash first, right? These guys don't use WeChat or Alipay.

Zhou Weijie took out his satellite phone, flipped through his contacts, found the number labeled "Sharraf," and dialed it.

The people in the two hostage-taking vehicles that followed also got out.

After driving for several hours, the people took the opportunity to get some fresh air. The smell in their vehicle was indeed unpleasant, but the people in the truck bed were much better off; it was an open-top vehicle, and the wind was blowing, making it cooler than inside the truck. However, the mornings in Africa are still quite cold, and the temperature difference between day and night in the desert is ridiculously large; you practically need to wear a down jacket when you wake up in the morning.

Rosen pulled a case of Kangshifu mineral water and two large bags of French bread from the trunk of his Bigfoot pickup truck.

He carried the things over and put them on the ground: "Eat something first, don't waste the water, we still have a long way to go."

The hostages were starving, and a group of people swarmed around them, taking turns drinking the water from bottle to bottle.

While they were eating, someone in the crowd noticed Zhou Weijie making a phone call not far away. A white man wearing glasses wiped his mouth, hesitated for a moment, and then cautiously spoke up: "Sir... could I borrow your phone for a moment? I'd like to contact my family."

Once someone started, the others followed suit.

"Can you help us send it to the port?"

"I need to go to the embassy!"

"Sir! I have money! I can pay! Just take me to a safe place!"

They were chattering away, like a pot had exploded.

Rosen waved his hand. "Stop, stop, stop—shut up, all of you! We'll talk about this when we get back to Ullr! I have other things to take care of."

His shout had an immediate effect. The group of people who had been chattering just moments before fell silent.

At this moment, Zhou Weijie finished his phone call and walked over, his expression somewhat strange.

"How so?" Rosen asked.

Zhou Weijie shrugged. "Sharraf said he didn't kidnap any Chinese people; it was Zaka's side that kidnapped them. But he can't get the hostages back. Zaka's organization made a condition—demanding that China release the protected President of Ivia and his family, otherwise they won't release them."

"What the hell?" Rosen frowned. "This idiot general isn't very capable either. He can't even handle a terrorist organization, yet he wants to seize power through a coup? Is that all?"

Zhou Weijie ignored his trash talk and asked, "What do you want to do?"

Rosen, holding a bottle of water, leaned against the hood of the pickup truck. "The key now is to get some basic information about Zaka's organization. I'm completely clueless and can't do anything about it."

The government certainly cannot release those high-ranking officials who are under protection. If this sets a precedent, who will be friendly to us in the future?

"Regarding intelligence," Zhou Weijie said, taking the mineral water bottle from Rosen, unscrewing it, and taking a sip, "I just gathered some scraps of information. The president of Ivia was seriously injured in the bombing last night and is currently in the hospital; it's uncertain whether he will make it. His secretary-general, Mohadi, is currently acting as state minister, and Sharaf is unwilling to say anything more about the others."

"Looks like I still have to go. Will you come with me? If we join forces, we'll be invincible!"

"No," Zhou Weijie refused decisively, without even hesitating. "If I go with you to the Iron Army, you'll smash my client's place to pieces. And if I go with you to Ivia, you'll just take down another client, right? How am I supposed to do business then?"

"How much is Zaka worth? He's not your client, is he?" Rosen tilted his head and looked at him.

Zhou Weijie's lips twitched. He held up five fingers. "He's worth five million dollars. But that money won't come easily! Their equipment is far superior to that of the poor bastards in the Iron Army. When Sharaf was in the army, he sold them a lot of equipment imported from Egypt. The stuff these guys have is no worse than the government army's."

Rosen scoffed, a mixture of deep sympathy and mockery directed at the country. "Look at this wretched nation," he said. "The terrorists are armed to the teeth by their own generals. The government sells equipment to the terrorists, and the terrorists use that equipment to fight the government forces. It's a closed loop; it's no wonder things are chaotic!"

Zhou Weijie lowered his voice and said, "The British are behind those equipment deals."

Hearing this, Rosen curled his lip and said disdainfully, "That's not surprising. The British are notorious troublemakers; they've ruined more than half the countries on this planet, almost enough to fill the UN member states."

When the British withdrew from India, they partitioned India and Pakistan, leaving behind a long history of religious animosity. The conflict in Kashmir continues to this day.

They arbitrarily drew borders in the Middle East, forcibly separating and binding different ethnic groups such as Arabs and Kurds, sowing the seeds of countless wars and terrorist threats. Even now, the region is still engulfed in daily fighting.

When they colonized Africa, they arbitrarily drew borders between many countries. People living on one side were fine, but one day they woke up to find themselves in another country, their territory gone. This has led to ongoing ethnic conflicts that continue to this day.

Domestically, the British began laying landmines everywhere during the last thirteen years after leaving Hong Kong, and this became even more rampant after the collapse of the Soviet Union.

Their residency rights scheme and administrative reforms expanded the power of the Legislative Council. They also engaged in extensive intelligence infiltration, planting numerous spies within the Hong Kong police force. This led to a complete collapse of public security in Hong Kong, with kidnappings and gangland shootouts becoming increasingly common.