Farming Life Starting in Africa

"Everyone get on the bus!" Li Wei waved his hand, and the armed police quickly boarded the bus, slamming the doors shut.

Rosen got into the passenger seat of the pickup truck and rolled the window down halfway. Leng Feng was still on the gun mount, his helmet facing the direction the convoy had come from, and the gun barrel was turning slightly with it.

BJ40 led the way, with Bigfoot P.E.K.K.A. close behind.

The naval convoy skillfully split into several groups and turned around, with the lead vehicle becoming the rear vehicle and vice versa. An armored vehicle rushed ahead to clear the way before the BJ40s even arrived.

As the pickup truck passed the naval vehicles, the machine gunners sitting on top of the armored vehicles stared wide-eyed.

They looked at the pickup truck, which was as tall as their armored vehicle, and at the twin-mounted anti-aircraft gun in the truck bed. The gun barrel was being slowly swayed from side to side by Leng Feng, as if searching for a target.

Those few naval soldiers had a creepy feeling about them.

Their armored vehicles are nothing but fragile pieces in the face of this devastating weapon. At this distance, one shot is all it takes to destroy their armor—it's all just paper.

"No wonder they were able to deal with the rebels so quickly," the machine gunner, Stone, said, his gaze shifting from the cannon barrel to Leng Feng's strange helmet, then back to the barrel. "Where did the armed police find these old relics?"

Tong Li also came over for a look, but her focus was clearly different. "Don't you think the archer's helmet in the gun emplacement is really cool? It looks like something out of a sci-fi movie."

Stone subtly pursed his lips, muttering under his breath, "What's the use of looking cool? It obstructs your vision and makes you sweat. Wearing that thing is unbearably hot. Does it even stop bullets?"

The journey back to Hong Kong went smoothly.

It seems the rebels can't muster enough men to intercept them anytime soon. With anti-aircraft guns in place, more lives will be needed; even car bombs require time to organize.

Relying solely on numbers to gain an advantage will lead to collapse within seconds. The feeling of having the people around you explode into pieces is an extreme test of one's rationality.

As they drew closer to the port, the outlines of several massive cargo ships and warships became visible on the distant sea. The overseas Chinese on the bus all breathed a sigh of relief.

Some people leaned back in their seats and closed their eyes, some gripped the hands of those next to them tightly, and some took out their phones to film videos outside the window, their hands still trembling slightly. A five- or six-year-old boy pressed his face against the window and asked his mother in a childish voice, "Are we going home?"

"Yes," his mother's voice choked with emotion, "he went home."

Rosen leaned back in the passenger seat, lit a cigarette, took a leisurely puff, and the smoke he exhaled was swept away by the wind through the half-open car window.

Zhou Weijie's voice came through the walkie-talkie: "Honey Badger, I won't be going into the port. I'll go find someone to gather some information later."

He not only needed to find intelligence on the Zaka organization, but also to acquire information about the exact location and circumstances of Deng Mei's kidnapping. He also needed to obtain intelligence on the Dane Company in Ivia, as commissioned by Leng Feng.

"Okay," Rosen pressed the walkie-talkie. "I'll cover the intelligence costs. Stay in touch, and be careful! Don't get betrayed."

The BJ40 made a brief stop on the congested road, and Zhou Weijie, carrying a shoulder bag, jumped out of the passenger seat. He looked around, then disappeared into the crowded throng outside the port like a drop of water merging into a river.

Before long, the convoy finally entered the naval security zone within the port.

Several five-star red flags fluttered high on flagpoles, standing out against the hazy sky. A few armed naval soldiers stood on either side of the entrance, their eyes scanning each vehicle entering and leaving with vigilance.

Bigfoot Pikachu was stopped at the very edge. The group put their weapons in the car and got out.

A lieutenant in naval training uniform walked over, circled the pickup truck twice, and his expression changed from "What the hell is this?" to "Are you guys serious?" He pointed to the slightly hot anti-aircraft gun in the truck bed, his tone quite polite but his attitude very firm.

"Please eject the ammunition, point the cannon barrel upwards, and then cover it with a dust bag."

Upon hearing this, Leng Feng pulled back the breechblock and removed the ammunition magazines. Then he fired the gun at a 60-degree angle. Turning around, he pulled a large camouflage cloth bag from the truck bed, quickly covered the gun barrel with it, and tied the rope tightly.

After watching Leng Feng finish his work efficiently, Rosen said, "Alright, sir. Any other instructions?"

The captain glanced at the covered anti-aircraft gun, then at Leng Feng's strange helmet, and his lips twitched.

"Alright, go inside, don't wander off."

If they hadn't come with the government troops and civilians in their convoy, the lieutenant might have confiscated the vehicle.

Upon entering the port, Yang Rui jumped out of the vehicle. He glanced around and quickly issued orders: "Team One, assist the consulate in verifying the identities of all overseas Chinese, leaving no one out. Team Two, maintain vigilance, focusing on the outer perimeter of the port and guarding high ground."

"Yes!" The soldiers quickly dispersed.

Deputy Captain Xu Hong, along with several men, surrounded the convoy with guns at their sides. They had already learned while they were in the vehicle that there were several "unidentified" armed personnel present, and it was the support of these individuals that had scattered the rebels, not that some superhuman soldiers had emerged from the armed police force.

Xu Hong just saw someone get off the car outside the port.

They can't say anything outside the port, but once inside, they still need to verify the identity.

Political Commissar Zhao Haiguang was already waiting at the foot of the ship's gangway when he saw the consulate's convoy arrive.

"Consul He," Zhao Haiguang stepped forward, extending his hand, "I am Zhao Haiguang. Thank you for your hard work."

"Political Commissar Zhao!" He Qingliu grasped his hand. "Thank you so much for your help."

"Let's get on the ship first," Zhao Haiguang said. "Our superiors are always on the phone."

After the group boarded the ship and walked up the gangway, He Qingliu gave a brief introduction to Rosen and his companions.

Among them, Lao Zhou's identity was presented as a wig seller, while Rosen was a scrap metal dealer in the neighboring Uller.

Ma Xiao and Miao Feng are a reporter and a communications company employee who were just rescued.

Leng Feng, one of these people, was a member of the former Southeast Military Region's Wolf Warrior Squadron.

Zhao Haiguang was also very surprised to hear that there were people from the Lu Te Special Forces, especially when he heard that they came from the Wolf Warriors.

Very few retired special forces soldiers are not given jobs. Special operations units have a very high rate of meritorious service, and it is common for them to receive second-class or third-class merits in peacetime or in combat. After retirement, they are basically sought after by local governments.

Especially since Wolf Warriors are the elite of the elite, they are highly sought-after. Which unit wouldn't want them? Why would someone like that come to Africa?

Zhao Haiguang had a question in his mind, but didn't have time to ask it. The group had already entered the bridge.