Fatal Strike: Paladins Mercenary Road

Chapter 884 Desire for Survival

There are several small towns north of Bucharest with large Gypsy populations...

The term "Gypsy" is actually a discriminatory one; the proper term should be "Roma".

The Roma people have an awkward position in Europe. 80% of their population lives below the poverty line, and they are often labeled as 'thieves' or 'swindlers' and then expelled.

In Europe, whenever a theft occurs in a tourist area, the police usually attribute the theft to the Roma people...

Of course, there were a lot of thieves among them...

The Roma people wanted to maintain the independence of their nomadic culture, but they also needed to cope with the demands of modern European countries for settlement, which led to conflicts between them and the European countries.

It's hard for the average person to imagine, and those public intellectuals who promote themselves don't go around spreading rumors, but in fact, even now, schools in some European countries still practice racial segregation policies against Gypsies, resulting in a dropout rate of up to 60% for Gypsy children.

The abandoned farm that Mountain Eagle and his friends were heading to was located east of a Gypsy town, separated from it by a fast-flowing river.

Heading north from the town, along this waterway, there are several large RV campgrounds, or rather, gypsy slums.

This area is controlled by the 'Bayonet Gang'...

Unemployment, poverty, and the fact that these Roma people, who claim to be native to Europe, are out of step with modern Europeans have turned most of the Roma communities in Eastern Europe into recruitment areas for gangs.

And some of these Gypsies are truly 'gifted'; they may not be good at much else, but they're experts at all sorts of underground businesses...

They've been involved in everything from petty theft and swindling to speculation, gambling, drugs, and prostitution.

However, to be fair, not all Gypsies are bad people; most of them are simply constrained by their circumstances...

No matter where they are, they will basically face residential isolation. In some developed countries in Western Europe, local police are even more frequent in expelling them than in expelling refugees.

Cultural differences and policy exclusion make it difficult for some of them to settle down and make a stable life.

However, thanks to Europe's relatively complete social assistance and charity system, these people's lives are more than ten levels better than those in truly impoverished areas, such as Africa.

Therefore, most Roma people still suffer from long-term systematic discrimination in various European countries due to historical stigma, but they have still preserved their own culture.

Their optimism, music, and dance became part of what was accepted by mainstream European society...

The abandoned farm that the mountain eagle was looking for was very close to a gypsy RV campground. Standing on the one-meter-high wall outside the farm's stone house, you could see the RV campground across the river with binoculars and the people partying.

Some women danced around the campfire to the music, while a large group of men held up bottles of liquor and made all sorts of strange noises. Every now and then, they would grab a woman from among the dancers and carry her to a nearby RV.

The camp was almost completely undefended, and all sorts of furtive people were moving around it. Some were selling drugs, others were selling alcohol and marijuana, and still others were doing things that the mountain eagles couldn't understand...

Mountain Eagle glanced at the time; it was already four in the morning. He couldn't understand why these people were so energetic...

"They're having a wild party..."

Blood Fox walked over to Mountain Eagle with a pair of binoculars, looking at the situation on the other side of the river as he said, "Do you see the tents with lights on by the river?"

The mountain eagle peered through the binoculars, nodded, and said, "I see it. What's in there?"

Blood Fox put down his binoculars, sniffed, and shook his head, saying, "That's a methamphetamine factory. Some of the people partying outside have clearly used methamphetamine."

Upon hearing this, Mountain Eagle exclaimed in surprise, "Holding a drug party next to a methamphetamine factory?"

What were these people thinking?

Blood Fox shrugged and said, "I don't understand why they would do this either, but I judge that the methamphetamine factory will be moved by dawn."

Romania has a low population density, and police and locals rarely approach the vicinity of Gypsy camps. However, the pollution from the methamphetamine factory is severe, and if someone downstream discovers something unusual and reports it to the police, the police will still take action.

That's why they put the factory in tents, making it easier to move.

Many of the revelers were not Gypsies; they were likely wealthy people from the nearby Bucharest area.

Those women were prostitutes, serving these clients who were addicted to methamphetamine. They could earn 500 euros a night.

Mountain Eagle didn't understand, but he could somewhat understand why Western European countries like France preferred to accept Black people rather than these Gypsies.

If a group of people like that came to our community, we really wouldn't be able to live like this.

The mountain eagle looked down at the ground beneath its feet, shook its head, and chuckled, saying, "I think I understand why this farm was abandoned..."

Blood Fox nodded slightly and said, "Believe me, nobody in Europe wants to be neighbors with Gypsies."

Among them are good people, and many are excellent. Arctic Fox once had a Gypsy assault soldier who performed exceptionally well... But no matter how good they are, it's useless. Good people will have bad relatives, and bad relatives will have even more bad friends.

Ethnicity and blood ties are unbreakable connections. My former Gypsy comrade was implicated by some bad relatives and died in a firefight with the French GIGN while helping them transport weapons.

Since then, Arctic foxes have never accepted Gypsies again…

Bloodfox looked at Mountain Eagle and said seriously, "Mountain Eagle, you are a very good friend, but you must remember to avoid Gypsies when choosing friends, no matter how outstanding they are..."

Upon hearing this, the mountain eagle asked curiously, "Is it really that serious?"

Blood Fox nodded, then shook his head and said, "You'll know once you've dealt with them. They're really enthusiastic, but also really troublesome. However, this shouldn't be a problem for you..."

I don't know why, but I've been talking too much lately. Just listen and forget about it...

As he spoke, Blood Fox glanced back at the stone house on the farm and said with a smile, "I didn't expect you to bring back a prisoner. Eddie gave me a fright when he released her earlier."

That woman seems like a problem; she keeps insisting on seeing you…

Mountain Eagle glanced once more at the carnival scene on the opposite bank, shook his head, and said, "I'll go take a look. That woman should know something. Getting more information will be beneficial for our subsequent operations."

Blood Fox smiled and nodded, saying, "Then go ahead. I need to contact the troll farm and urge them to get the work done in the next two days."

There's plenty of food prepared in the car; I've already taken it inside. You can rest here during the day tomorrow. Elk and I will go ahead and scout out the 'Bayonet Gang's' core territory. We'll discuss the attack plan together when we return."

Upon hearing this, Mountain Eagle smacked his lips. He wanted to advise Blood Fox not to push himself too hard, but he swallowed the words back.

Seeing the deep bags under Blood Fox's eyes, Mountain Eagle nodded and said, "The troll farm matter isn't urgent. Go get some sleep. I reckon the Gypsies in the gang's territory won't get up too early. You can set off around noon..."

Seeing that Blood Fox didn't speak, Mountain Eagle jumped down from the low stone wall and walked towards the house, saying as if talking to himself, "You old bones are still useful. After all, so many descendants of Arctic foxes still need to rely on you."

The new Arctic fox line is just starting to take shape. If you work yourself to death, the Arctic fox line will really fall apart!

As he spoke, Mountain Eagle had already reached the door of the house, opened the dilapidated door, and immediately saw Camel draping a thermal blanket over the red-haired woman...

Seeing the camel's kindness, the mountain eagle joked, "Brother, this is a beautiful snake woman..."

One second she was sleeping with someone, the next she was holding a gun to that unfortunate guy's head, taking him hostage.

Camel glanced at the pitiful-looking redhead, then stood up and shook his head, saying, "If we don't give her something to wear, that bastard Eddie might let her go..."

No sooner had the camel finished speaking than Eddie, who was making coffee on a portable gas stove, complained, "Hey, I just felt sorry for her..."

The camel rolled its old eyes and said disdainfully, "Yes, she's pitiful because she has no clothes to wear, so you touched her chest just to give her some warmth."

You lecherous bastard, you'll die at a woman's hands one day. Don't drag us down with you then.

Mountain Eagle gave Eddie the middle finger, then glanced around the dusty room, found a broken stool, and sat down in front of the red-haired woman…

The moment he sat down, Mountain Eagle heard the red-haired woman's weak breathing...

Seeing that she was wearing a thermal blanket but deliberately spreading her legs to expose her lower body, Mountain Eagle shook his head slightly and said, "Don't try that on me. You should have felt it. I brought you here with no intention of letting you go."

Whether you die here or are sent to El Salvador to keep Commander Chuck company depends on what useful information you can provide me.

Of course, I don't have a proper doctor here to treat your wounds, and I'm not sure if you can even make it to El Salvador.

Upon hearing this, the red-haired woman slightly curled her legs up, raised her strikingly beautiful face—though it was marked by prominent crow's feet and freckles—and looked at the mountain eagle, saying, "What do you want to know?"

The mountain eagle grinned and said, "You tell me, I'll listen. Only if you give me information that satisfies me will you have a chance to live."

As he spoke, Mountain Eagle looked at the red-haired woman's slightly flushed face, tapped his shoulder, and said, "Being shot through here isn't fatal, but if you don't take antibiotics soon, the infection will kill you."

If I were you, I would be faster…

The red-haired woman knew the Mountain Eagle very well; she knew that if she fell into his hands, a good ending was virtually impossible...

She lowered her head and thought for a moment, then looked up at the carry-on suitcase next to her and said, "Open the suitcase; the contents inside should be what you want..."

Mountain Eagle frowned as he pulled the box to his side, carefully scanned it with his Golden Cicada, then turned the combination lock toward the red-haired woman and said, "What do you think could move me?"

The red-haired woman forced a painful smile and said, "You've come all the way to Romania, of course you want to know what's wrong with Arctic Fox..."

Don't you want to know why Arctic foxes go to Baghdad?

(End of this chapter)