Farming Life Starting in Africa

"It's Qian Bida's friend who's been kidnapped," Rosen said simply.

"Haha, being his friend is quite dangerous, thank goodness I'm not!" Fahad's mocking voice came through the microphone, full of schadenfreude.

Rosen hung up the phone, sighed deeply, and said that people who watch funerals don't mind how big the funeral is, and they can be found everywhere.

He got out of the truck, took out a huge plastic sheet from the truck bed, spread it on the ground, and then bent down to roll Hassud's body inside.

As Rosen wrapped the garment, he muttered, "You were so powerful when you were alive, the leader of the Iron Army, able to chop off people's feet whenever you wanted. Now that you're dead, you're still just someone I wrap up like a spring roll."

After wrapping the body tightly, he carried it to the back of the car, bent down, and shoved it under the seat. Ma Xiao, sitting in the back, was completely disoriented. The body was right at his feet; he didn't know where to put his legs.

"Don't be afraid, there are no zombies in Africa."

Ma Xiao sat cross-legged in the chair, gave an awkward smile, and said, "Thanks, Xiao Luo. I'll treat you to dinner sometime."

Rosen rolled his eyes. If it weren't for Pan Wenjia's kindness to him, Ma Xiao would probably still be obediently digging for gold in the Iron Army's mine right now.

Miao Feng, who was standing nearby, came over with a bottle of mineral water in his hand. He unscrewed the cap, took a sip, and then asked in a sly, low voice, "Hey, those hostages... can they really demand that much money? Eight hundred thousand US dollars? Are you sure Fahd isn't just bragging?"

"I don't know," Rosen shrugged. "If it's not enough, someone will make up the difference."

Ma Xiao rolled his eyes in the back seat, then very sensibly kept quiet.

He himself was one of the hostages, and if it weren't for his good relationship with Rosen, he probably would have been one of the "easy targets" as well.

These days, war-torn Africa automatically enters a state of "military government." Those with guns and men are the bosses; everyone else? Just kneel down and sing "Conquer." Don't like it? Then come and shoot me!

After all—as the instructor said long ago, political power grows out of the barrel of a gun. That's a timeless truth!

The car continued driving. Ma Xiao, sitting in the back seat, hesitated for a moment, then decided to lie down and rest, tightening his seatbelt. Otherwise, if the car braked suddenly, he would have to get out and hug Hassud to warm him up.

As the car drove into the afternoon and the sky grew darker, the outline of Uller finally came into view in the distance.

The several gray and white buildings looked somewhat dilapidated in the afterglow of the setting sun, but there was no longer any smoke or fire.

As the car drew closer, Rosen got a clearer view of the situation. At the entrance to the city, a large group of people, about a hundred soldiers and a dozen military vehicles, were standing or sitting, blocking the road.

There aren't many vehicles traveling through Uller right now, otherwise people would think there are a large number of bandits robbing people.

The pickup truck stopped in front of the group of soldiers first, and the leader, a man in a uniform that was noticeably cleaner than the others, was none other than Fahd.

Rosen laughed and joked with Miao Feng, "This guy's really in a hurry. Is he afraid I'll run away, or is he afraid Hassud's corpse will rot?"

Before Miao Feng could speak, Fahad came over with a grin, opened the car door for Rosen, and stretched out his arms to give Rosen a big hug as he got out of the car.

"Honey badger! I've missed you so much!"

Then, in a voice only the two of them could hear, he whispered in Rosen's ear, "Where is Hassud's body?"

"It's in my car, wrapped tightly in plastic sheeting." Rosen subtly pushed Fahad away from him with his elbow; the smell on this guy was truly indescribable.

Rosen also wanted to throw the body into the truck bed, but the weather was so hot that if Hassud were left to ferment and grow bigger in the sun all day, he would be done.

Fahd immediately opened the back door and tiptoed to pull out a corner of the plastic sheet.

The plastic sheet was stuffed under the seat, and Fahad reached for it several times before finally grabbing it. He gritted his teeth and pulled with all his might, his face turning red and veins bulging on his forehead, but he just couldn't budge it.

Ma Xiao couldn't bear to watch any longer, so he bent down and helped push the plastic sheet. The bag was dragged out with a "thud," and Fahad, due to inertia, sat down on the ground, with the corpse falling on top of him. Some light red liquid began to seep out from the gaps in the plastic sheet and stuck to his body.

Rosen stood to the side, hands in his pockets, showing no intention of helping.

Even if you've had air conditioning all day, a corpse will still decompose. The pale red liquid is fishy and smelly, and it's very difficult to wash off once you get it on your skin.

Rosen, seeing Fahad struggling under the weight, couldn't stand it any longer and waved to the group of soldiers watching the spectacle behind him: "Hey! Two of you! Help your commander get this thing away!"

Two young Black soldiers exchanged a glance, then reluctantly approached, their faces filled with reluctance. Each of them lifted one end, like carrying a dead pig, and loaded the plastic sheet into the bed of a military vehicle.

After the body was dragged away, Fahd clapped his hands, then walked to his own military vehicle, bent down, and laboriously lifted a large briefcase from the passenger seat.

The few steps he took carrying the suitcase back were so heavy that his walking posture became slightly unsteady.

He leaned closer to Rosen and whispered, "There's two million eight hundred thousand dollars inside. We're even!"

Rosen happily took the box and weighed it in his hand. It was heavy, weighing at least fifty or sixty pounds.

"Okay," Rosen said, then suddenly remembered something, "When are we going to trade that tank? It's already destroyed two tanks."

Fahd was in high spirits at his newfound success, waving his hand readily. "Great! Still 100 million, right? But I'll have to apply for the funding first. Military procurement these days has all sorts of procedures; it goes through several people's hands before getting a signature, you know how it is." He paused, "How many shells do you have left?"

Rosen thought for a moment, mentally reviewing the inventory: "Sixty rounds left. Both high-explosive and armor-piercing rounds. Enough for you to use for a while."

"No problem!" Fahad nodded vigorously. "Wait for my call."

Everything is in order.

Rosen handed the hostages over to Fahd, and the hostages were taken back to the military camp under the "escort" of these soldiers.

Rosen and his group drove back to the garbage dump themselves. The long journey and the intense battle had left them all quite exhausted.

Leng Feng immediately went inside to wash up; he had been feeling quite uncomfortable from being outside for the past few days.

As soon as Miao Feng got out of the car, he stretched and yawned. "What should we eat tonight?" he asked, rubbing his aching back. "These past few days have been awful. When I was locked in the cellar, I dreamed about food every day, but I didn't even dare to drink much water."