<h4>Chapter 933: Chapter 818: zing Skyrocket (Please Subscribe!)</h4><h4></h4>


    Looking at the three brand-new off-road vehicles,


    they didn’t act rashly.


    They just aimed their guns


    and became alert.


    Ordinary people wouldn’t drive such vehicles, let alone afford them. In this territory, there was an unwritten rule: even when setting up checkpoints to extort fees, don’t mess with those drivingrge, ck off-road vehicles.


    Because that’s what mercenaries are typically equipped with.


    Although they weren’t afraid,


    there was no need to provoke these desperate fugitives.


    Dozens of Africans rushed out,


    braving the downpour,


    and blocked the checkpoint.


    A checkpoint that was just an iron tripod— actually, to tell the truth, this kind of barrier welded together from construction steel pipes was very practical: the materials were easy to obtain, welding was convenient, and the protective effect was undeniable.


    The design of the triangr barriers:


    any ordinary vehicle crashing into it would be done for.


    "Get out of the car,"


    the leader of the Africans shouted at the vehicle.


    "Click."


    The passenger door opened.


    A tall African man in a ck suit, holding an umbre, stepped out.


    Seeing his attire


    and his towering figure made them feel somewhat inferior. In Africa, due to malnutrition, the locals were generally thinner and shorter than the ck people in the United States.


    The man before them


    was close to two meters tall.


    Definitely a giant.


    "Who are you? What are you doing here?" the leader of the Africans asked nervously.


    "I have an appointment with your tribe leader Belev. There is something we need to discuss. You can make a call to confirm. And afterwards you could guide us," said the fighter nonchntly.


    This ce


    was the tribe that the first pickup truck that followed the convoy belonged to.


    Belev was the leader of this tribe. To avoid putting out fires after incidents urred, the ck Prison always dealt with the wealth distribution of the mining field in advance. Next, they would start dealing with the forces along the way that wanted to profit from their situation.


    The solution was simple.


    Let a fish out.


    Those wanting to catch the fish would naturallye.


    Handle a few of the tougher fishermen, and the rest wouldn’t dare to act up. They had called Belev earlier, and the other party had been quite arrogant, even wanting a share of the mining profits, demanding that the ck Prison send someone over if they wanted to talk.


    And so,


    they came.


    As for the timing,


    it wasn’t for Belev to decide. Actually, they could have coordinated with Sadoke, but Sadoke was trying to use his own influence to negotiate terms with the ck Prison. It would be somewhat useful to involve him but not crucial.


    Such matters


    had to be resolved by the ck Prison themselves.


    They wanted to show Sadoke


    that without him,


    they could still get things done. They sought him out simply to save themselves some trouble, but it also involved another n concerning Sadoke, so this time, the ck Prison would handle it themselves.


    And they had to do it well.


    "Why didn’t youe tomorrow, sote at night?" asked the leader of the Africans warily. He had not been informed of anyoneing, and thete hour made it all seem suspicious.


    "Belev, the tribe leader, asked us to hurry. We had no choice but toe now," the fighter replied.


    "Well... alright then, wait here," the leader of the Africans said, still puzzled. But judging by the tone, it really did seem like their tribe leader had summoned them, so he said to those beside him, "You keep watch, I’ll go make a call."


    With that,


    he jogged into the house.


    He didn’t have a satellite phone.


    Mobile phones aren’t avable here either.


    Butndline telephones have quite a high pration rate in the vige. This ce is far from the main road, and the Base stations by the roadside simply can’t provide coverage. I heard that a Huaxia Company woulde to build a Base station.


    But that won’t be until next month.


    ...


    Inside the Tribe.


    Belev, who had just gone to sleep, was woken up by the ringing of the phone again.


    He was furious inside.


    During the day, someone iming to be from the "ck Jail" had called, saying they should release the ’sheep’ and not target them along the way anymore. The other party wasn’t penny-pinching at all, but instead offered a quota—$100,000 a year.


    Upon hearing this, Belev thought.


    $100,000.


    Why would he be satisfied? He wanted more. These people were mining in his country, making extraordinary profits. Although it wasn’t on his turf, since they were passing by, it was only logical to get a share of the spoils.


    He opened his eyes.


    Seeing the number, Belev picked up the phone and started cursing, "What is it, don’t you know it’s night time? If there isn’t a satisfying reason, you all will be on night shift for the next month."


    They were from the same Tribe.


    Belev wasn’t one to kill people at the drop of a hat; he wasn’t some warlord. Assigning those at the Checkpoints to night shifts was already a fairly harsh punishment—as Africans are also afraid of the dark.


    "Chief Belev, someone hase to our ce looking for you, saying you called for them. They im to be something... ck Jail, yes, that’s the name," the leader said nervously.


    "What I... wait, are you talking about people from ck Jail?" When Belev heard "ck Jail," his sleepiness vanished instantly, reced by rage. He had told ck Jail to send people, but not in the middle of the night, and certainly not thiste.


    Belev angrily said, "Tell them to wait until daytime."


    After speaking,


    Belev hung up the phone with a bang.


    Listening to the dial tone.


    The leader at the Checkpoint was startled. It looked like the night shift was confirmed.


    Putting down the phone and stepping out of the house, he addressed the Fighters loudly: "Chief Belev says for you to wait until dawn. I thought as much—at thiste hour, why would Chief Belev meet with outsiders?"


    Luckily he knew these were not people to mess with, so he didn’t curse them out, merely grumbled a bit.


    Hearing this,


    The Fighter merely grunted in acknowledgement.


    Back inside the car.


    The dozen or so African guards didn’t leave. They just stared at the three vehicles, thinking about having to wait until morning, and their mood soured. They started toin but didn’t dare to speak openly.


    The night.


    The sound of the wind.


    The sound of the rain.


    All these sounds were entering their ears.


    Yet, against this loud backdrop of noise, a sh of silver crossed the distant sky. It slowly hovered above the Tribe, its underside opened up, and the next moment, a sh of light streaked across the night sky.


    What followed was a roar from a building in the Tribe louder than thunder.


    mes soared into the sky.


    And a tremor like a Level 5 earthquake followed.


    It woke everyone in the Tribe.


    At the Checkpoint.


    Although at a limited distance, the immense light from the explosion broke through the curtain of rain and caught their eye. They knew the direction—that was the Tribe’s Ammunition Depot.


    "What happened?"


    Belev was awoken by the artificial earthquake.


    Listening to the sound akin to firecrackers by his ear, Belev’s face drastically changed. He clearly understood what it was. Despite the heavy rain, nothing could mask the unique sound of an explosion.


    Belev dressed up.


    Rushed out.


    Seeing the mes shooting up into the sky.


    His expression froze.


    At that moment.


    An underling rushed in.


    He blurted out anxiously, "It’s bad, Chief Belev. Our Ammunition Depot exploded due to unknown reasons. The extent of the loss is unclear, but by the looks of it, there’s probably nothing left."