American Farmers: Facing a Cutoff at the Start

Spencer Hawthorne's voice rang out, harsh and emotionless, "Mr. Carter, you must be aware of the loan delinquency situation."

"I must warn you of the consequences."

"According to the contract, if you fail to settle this debt before Christmas, it proves that you are no longer able to repay it."

"This also means that banks will activate 'debt acceleration clauses'."

"If that's the case, you'll need to repay not just the few thousand dollars you owe, but the entire remaining principal."

"If you still can't repay, the bank will have to initiate the auction process, and then..."

Inside the house, Frank's father, who was as hard as a rock, now spoke with a hint of humble pleading:

"Mr. Hawthorne... I know the rules too."

"But could you... grant me some more time?"

"Once we sell some Christmas trees and some forged knives, we should have enough."

"Mr. Carter, I really want to trust you. But the bank's risk assessment system doesn't consider personal relationships; it only looks at transaction volume."

Upon hearing this, Fett frowned slightly; the feeling of an elder humbly begging was truly unpleasant.

It's time to test our idea.

He took a deep breath, gripped the cold brass doorknob, and slammed it down.

"Bang!"

The door opened again, and a cold draft swept into the warm living room as Fett moved.

Old Frank, who was hunched over and about to plead one more time, suddenly straightened up as if he had been electrocuted.

He instinctively tried to cover the document, a hint of embarrassment flashing across his face, which was covered in grime and wrinkles, but it instantly transformed into his usual sternness.

"Fett! Who let you come back?!"

Frank stood up, blocking the coffee table like a wall, his voice urgent and harsh:

"Get out! You have your work to do, and I have my own things to manage."

"This has nothing to do with you! I can handle it myself! Don't make me say it a third time!"

Fett didn't back down; he strode across the carpet and walked straight behind Frank.

He reached out and gently placed his hand on old Frank's shoulder.

"Father."

"We're family, aren't we?"

"Let's talk privately outside."

Looking into Fett's firm and composed gaze, a flicker of emotion flashed in Frank's cloudy gray eyes.

He felt that the person standing behind him was no longer a child who needed his protection, but a man.

The old man's tense shoulders slumped, and he seemed to finally let out a sigh of relief.

He nodded.

Fett turned to the two people in the living room and said:

"Gentlemen, please have a seat here for a moment. We need a few minutes to talk."

Spencer Hawthorne stood up and said, "No need. I have conveyed what I needed to say, Mr. Carter. I hope you can repay the loan as soon as possible."

"Otherwise, it won't be us coming next time!"

"We'll be going now."

After saying that, he walked towards the door.

Lina seemed about to say something, but seeing this, she quickly stood up, gave Fett and the other person an apologetic look, and followed.

She is clearly not yet comfortable playing such an embarrassing role.

The light curtain that Fett had anticipated did not pop up.

His attempt to claim both rewards simultaneously also failed.

However, Fett could still clearly hear the two people talking as they walked away.

"Lina, there's no need to give these country bumpkins a warm welcome; they're all rotten people."

"Some of them will even unleash their dogs or brandish guns to scare us when they see us. You've seen that before these past few days."

"How about I treat you to dinner after we finish today's work? Maybe we'll have a wonderful evening."

"No need, Mr. Hawthorne. I think I'm already quite familiar with the specific procedures. Let's each handle the rest of the work ourselves!"

"You don't need to follow me anymore."

"Also, just call me Anderson. We're not that close yet."

"Miss Lily Anderson, you..."

Their voices grew softer and softer until they disappeared completely.

Old Frank sat blankly in the wooden chair.

Fett sat down on the sofa.

"Dad, how much debt do we have to pay back?" Fett asked.

Frank pulled a flattened pack of cigarettes from his pocket, intending to light one, but after glancing at Fett, he irritably shoved it back into his pocket.

He leaned back in his chair, looking at his hands covered in soot, his voice hoarse:

"The year before last and last year were both years of severe drought... You were still studying at Hashol College then, and the pastures had all withered and died."

"If the pasture couldn't grow, we had to buy hay, and at that time the price of hay tripled."

"In order to maintain the size of the cattle herd and not let all the hard work of that year go to waste, I had no choice but to borrow money."

Frank sighed and counted on his rough fingers:

"The money was borrowed in two installments. I borrowed 100,000 in the first year, and another 50,000 in the second year when there was still a drought."

"However, the price of soybeans was quite good in the past two years, so I sold a few more cows and gradually paid off some of the debt. Now... I still have more than 70,000 yuan left, including principal and interest."

"The five thousand dollars owed shouldn't have been overdue, but as you know, your mother was in the hospital before she passed away..."

"well……"

At this point, old Frank's voice trembled slightly, and he glossed over the hospital incident:

"As that person just said."

"If this overdue payment is not made, the bank will activate the acceleration clause."

"The principal of $70,000 must be repaid immediately."

"If we can't produce the land, they will force us to auction it off."

"Lawyer fees, court costs, appraisal fees... those vampires will charge us all of these."

"Capital will drive down prices in the auction."

"Before the mortgage loan, the farm was valued at 800,000, but after going through this process and paying off the debt for the farm machinery, there was hardly anything left for us."

I was so close to the kill threshold I saw in the video!

The line between the middle class and the homeless is very thin.

This is utter capitalism!

Fett looked at Frank, his gaze lingering on his arms covered in burn scars:

"So, that's why you've been locking yourself in the garage lately?"

Frank awkwardly hid his hands behind his back, avoiding Fett's gaze, and whispered:

"I was thinking... I haven't forgotten the blacksmithing skills I learned from your grandfather when I was young."

"I was thinking about whether I could forge a few knives and sell them at the town market or pawnshop."

Even if each one only sells for a few dozen yuan, every little bit helps...

"If we really can't raise enough money, we'll have to sell the cattle that haven't been sold yet..."

"That would mean a huge loss, not even enough to recoup the initial investment..."

"I'm nineteen years old now, so I'll come and help too."

Fett's voice echoed clearly in the cold corridor:

"There are still more than twenty days until Christmas. Dad, you continue forging the knife. Tomorrow I will go to town to sell Christmas trees. We will definitely be able to raise the money."

The voice just fell.

The air in front of Fett suddenly rippled, and the pale blue light screen reappeared without warning.

This time, a series of chaotic characters swept across the screen like a waterfall.

After a few seconds of garbled text flashing, the light screen suddenly stabilized, and a line of golden text appeared clearly on his retina:

[Correction successful.]

[Reward: Basic Forging]

[Distributed!]

In an instant, a wealth of knowledge and experience silently surfaced in Fett's mind.

It felt as natural as recalling childhood memories.

Patterns of various knife types, including the Boyce knife, the Cucre knife, and the Kaba knife.

How to choose steel for forging knives and how to distinguish between high-carbon steel and low-carbon steel.

Judging the color of steel billets.

The feel of the impact when hammering a steel billet.

……

This knowledge quickly entered his mind and was imprinted deep within his muscles, as if he had personally forged iron for several years.

He subconsciously rotated his wrist and loosely clenched his fist, as if he held a transparent hammer in his hand!

This bug actually worked!

I've acquired the forging skill, but unfortunately, I didn't get the favorability reward.

He maintained a calm expression, looked into old Frank's cloudy eyes, and carefully said:

"Father, I watched a lot of documentaries about forging when I was in school."

"I don't know much about the specifics, but I can help you out and swing the hammer, it shouldn't be a problem."

Fett went along with it and said that since the source of knowledge was unclear, this roundabout approach was the safest.

Frank looked at his son, whose eyes were filled with determination, and a long-lost sense of relief appeared on his face.

"it is good."

Frank patted Fett on the shoulder heavily, his voice slightly choked but full of strength:

"Let's work together, father and son. Let's forge as many good knives as possible these days."

"It's not just about paying off bank debts. If you learn this skill from me, you'll have more options, and it'll be easier to pay off your student loans later."

Upon hearing this, Fett felt even more pressure.

Oh, I forgot, I still have to pay back my damn student loans.

However, even though the loan is a heavy burden, it might not be a disadvantage for me to take it on!

With this support, Fett felt much more relaxed.

"Ding-dong, ding-dong," the doorbell rang again.

"Who is it this time?" Old Frank frowned.

Fett stepped out of the house and looked outside, and saw a figure standing at the entrance of the farm.

He turned and went back into the house, saying to old Frank, "It's that female commissioner; she's all alone."

"I wondered what else she wanted, so I called her over."

Fett stepped out of the house again, about to call out, when he saw Lina had already fallen on the gravel road.

Even though she was quite far away, you could still see the pain in her expression.

Those suede high heels were clearly not suited to the rough roads of the countryside.

Fett walked a few steps to Lina's side, squatted down, and asked.

"Which foot is injured?"

Lina winced in pain and hissed, "The right side."

"Can you still walk?"

Fett stretched out his large hand and held it in front of her. "Let's go inside and put some ice on it."

Lina looked up at the tall young man, hesitated for a moment, and then placed her hand on his.

Her hands were very cold, with delicate knuckles, and felt like a piece of cool jade when held.

Fett used his strength to lift her up from the ground.

Lina used the momentum to stand up, but as soon as her right foot touched the ground, her body went limp and tilted uncontrollably to one side.

With quick reflexes, Fett reached out and grabbed her waist, helping her to sit upright.

A large patch of conspicuous gray-white dust was smeared on the hem of her shirt and trousers, which stood out starkly against the black fabric.

Fett instinctively brushed the dust away.

"Slap, slap."

Two crisp sounds.

An astonishing rebound came from my palm.