I manufacture weapons in the Middle East and am wanted globally?

The next day, Chen Zheng was awakened by a series of urgent phone calls.

He sat up abruptly, almost rolling off the tattered sofa.

The spring marks on his back hadn't faded yet when a new one appeared, making him wince in pain.

The phone vibrated and buzzed on the table.

He grabbed the phone and answered, "Feed—"

"Chen!!!" Khalid's voice boomed, "They're fighting! They're fighting!!!"

Chen Zheng's drowsiness vanished instantly. He sat bolt upright, his spine cracking with a snap: "What happened?!"

"Yesterday! At that school in the south of the city! A dozen or so kids went out and did graffiti, writing things that would get them their heads!"

Khalid spoke rapidly, almost incoherently, "The security forces went, opened fire—killed two! The rest were all arrested!"

Chen Zheng immediately thought of the children he had seen yesterday.

Young people... just love to do things that could cost them their lives.

"and then?"

"Then last night, someone fucking dumped a headless corpse at the school gate!"

"It's one of the kids who was kidnapped! Their heads were cut off! They were left at the door! They fucking don't even spare children!!"

Chen Zheng's mouth was half open, and he couldn't say a word for a long time, feeling a chill run down his spine.

COS Louis XVI?

"This morning, protesters surrounded the security forces building, threw stones, burned tires, and then machine guns went off from upstairs."

Chen Zheng's mind went blank.

How many people died?

"have no idea."

Khalid said, "I'm on this side of Garbage Street, far away, but I can hear gunfire. Some say a dozen, some say twenty, the whole of Delaware is in a frenzy! People have started shooting at security forces."

Chen Zheng was stunned.

Then he suddenly cried out "Ouch!" and slapped his thigh, wincing in pain, his voice filled with deep regret:

"I should have ordered more supplies! What a loss! Who knew I'd get a free brothel right after masturbating!"

There was a full five seconds of silence on the other end of the phone.

"Chen...we're going to have a war."

"What does war have to do with business?"

Chen Zheng spoke with righteous indignation, jumping off the sofa and searching for his shoes barefoot on the floor, "Only when there's a war can we earn more money."

"My feeling right now is like this: on your wedding night, the bride is naked in bed, and I'm impotent! Do you know that kind of pain?! Do you know that feeling of watching money float right in front of you, but you can't grab it?!"

"Chen, if you don't get rich," he said softly, with an inexplicable admiration, "even Jesus wouldn't be able to stand it."

"I don't know if Jesus can stand it, but I get a headache when I can't see Franklin (US dollars)." Chen Zheng stepped into his other shoe and pulled back the curtains.

Sunlight streamed in, making him squint.

Through the broken window of the factory, he could see a wisp of black smoke rising in the distance, twisting and turning as it climbed upwards in the hazy sky.

The shouts could be faintly heard in the air; they were too far away to make out the content, but the anger could be felt even from several streets away.

"Alright, alright, let's not talk about this nonsense." Chen Zheng turned his gaze away from the black smoke, his voice suddenly becoming calm. "Have weapons gone up in price recently?"

Khalid chuckled on the other end.

"Abu Ali called," he whispered, "asking how much stock you have right now. He wants it all, plus 40% on top of the original price. He wants it now."

Chen Zheng's pupils contracted slightly.

Add 40%.

The barrels were still $100 each, but today they're $140.

The entire gun was changed from 550 to 770.

This is the war economy.

While you're rubbing your butt and saying business is tough, other companies are already using drones to carry missiles.

Chen Zheng took a deep breath. "See you at your shop in an hour."

"Okay," Khalid replied, then paused and added, "Chen, be careful on the road. It's really dangerous outside right now. Don't take the main roads, take the alleys. Cover the cargo in the truck bed with a tarpaulin so no one can see it."

"understood."

Chen Zheng hung up the phone, stuffed it into his pocket, and turned to run downstairs.

The stairs were welded iron, and each step made a clanging sound.

He rushed into the workshop, taking three steps at a time.

Baldy and Chiang Kai-shek were still working. One of the laborers stood in front of DMG MORI and the other in front of Haas. The machine tool spindle hummed, and the smell of cutting fluid filled the air.

Chen Zheng glanced at the materials section.

The eight bundles of steel that arrived yesterday are now down to only three.

The gun barrels on the floor of the finished product area were neatly stacked, their silver-gray metal gleaming coldly under the lights.

He squatted down and counted them, one by one.

One hundred.

Exactly one hundred, no more, no less.

Every barrel from the Stechkin APS rifle underwent deep hole drilling, reaming, boring, and rifling, resulting in an inner wall so smooth it could be used as a mirror. He trusted the craftsmanship of Baldy and Chiang Kai-shek; this batch of goods would be exempt from inspection anywhere.

The whole gun—

Six.

They were neatly arranged on the worktable, next to six magazines, each filled with 20 rounds of ammunition.

Chen Zheng picked up a gun, pulled back the slide and glanced at it. The recoil spring had a uniform force, and the firing pin's stroke was crisp and clean. He put the gun down, slammed the magazine in, and with a click, the magazine latched in firmly.

"Bald! Chiang Kai-shek!"

The two laborers stopped what they were doing at the same time, jogged over, and stood up straight.

"Put the gun barrels in sacks, and the guns in separate bags." Chen Zheng said as he pulled out two gray fertilizer sacks with Arabic writing on them from the corner. "Once they're packed, carry them to my car."

"Gulp!" The bald man grabbed the sack, and with a flick of his three short, thick fingers, the sack opened. Chiang Kai-shek picked up a stack of gun barrels and carefully placed them inside, one by one, as gently as if he were placing eggs, afraid of knocking them over.

Chen Zhengze took matters into his own hands, wrapped the six APS pistols in old cloth, stuffed them into a canvas tool bag, and put the magazines in a separate metal box. He closed the lid tightly and wrapped it with two layers of tape.

In less than ten minutes, all the goods were loaded.

The bald man carried a sack, weighing at least fifty or sixty kilograms, out of the house. He carried it as if it were a sack of cotton, his steps incredibly light. Chiang Kai-shek followed behind, carrying a tool bag and a metal box, humming something that sounded like singing.

Chen Zheng opened the pickup truck bed, and the bald man put the burlap sacks inside, stacking them neatly. Kai-Shen stuffed his tool bag and metal box into the gaps in the sacks, covered them with three layers of old canvas, and tied them securely with four ropes.

"Alright." Chen Zheng patted the truck bed. "You guys keep an eye on the factory, lock the gate, and don't open it for anyone, understand?"

The bald man put his feet together, gave a military salute, and exclaimed, "Gulp!"

Chiang Kai-shek saluted in return: "Coo-coo!"

Chen Zheng opened the driver's side door, got in, and started the engine.

The diesel engine chugged a few times, spewing out a plume of black smoke from the exhaust pipe. He shifted into reverse, the pickup truck slowly pulled out of the yard, then turned around and drove towards the garbage street.

In the rearview mirror, Baldy and Chiang Kai-shek stood at the doorway, one tall and one short, like two door gods.

Chen Zheng rolled up the car window, took out the pack of Liqun cigarettes from his pocket, and put one in his mouth.

……

The mornings in Daraa were unlike any morning Chen Zheng had ever seen before.

No, it should be said that Della City is no longer the Della City he knew yesterday.

As soon as the pickup truck turned onto the main road, Chen Zheng saw an overturned pickup truck, upside down with its four wheels still spinning, and its cargo bed scattered all over the ground.

Several cars were parked on the side of the road, their windows all shattered, shards of glass scattered all over the ground, sparkling in the morning light like diamonds scattered on the ground.

One of the cars had bullet holes in its door, three in total, arranged in a triangle, with the metal edges curling outwards like blooming flowers.

Chen Zheng's palms began to sweat.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, slowed down, and kept glancing to both sides.

There weren't many people on the street, but everyone seemed to be in a hurry.

Some people were running, some were carrying things home, and some were pulling down and locking their tin roller shutters. An old man was herding several sheep into an alley. The sheep bleated and refused to leave, so the old man whipped them, making them jump.

Shouts came from afar, but the words were indistinct; the anger could be felt even from several streets away.

Chen Zheng turned into a small alley.

Khalid is right, we shouldn't take the main road.

He had walked through this alley before. On both sides were the backs of residential buildings, the windows of which were all welded shut with iron bars, and clothes hung on clotheslines, rustling in the wind.

There was trash, broken glass, and a dead cat on the ground, flattened, with flies buzzing around it.

At the end of the alley was a T-junction. Chen slowed down and peeked out.

The left side is empty, the right side—

Three or four pickup trucks were parked on the right, with people sitting in the backs, holding flags with slogans in Arabic. They didn't move; they just stood there, as if waiting for someone.

Chen Zheng stepped on the gas, and the pickup truck sped out of the alley, turned right, and drove off onto another road.

In the rearview mirror, those people glanced at him, but no one chased after him.

He breathed a sigh of relief and patted the steering wheel.

He muttered to himself, "What's there for a legitimate businessman to be afraid of?"

The car continued driving forward.

After crossing two more streets, he saw a military vehicle emitting smoke.

The car's exterior was charred black, the tires were burned away, leaving only the rims, the windows were all shattered, and the seats were burned down to just the springs. Next to the car lay a person, wearing a uniform, face down, motionless. The blood beneath him had dried, turned dark brown, and stuck to the ground like a puddle of spilled paint.

Chen Zheng shifted his gaze and stared at the road ahead.

His hands started to tremble.

Adrenaline.

He pressed the accelerator a little harder.

The pickup truck huffed and puffed its way through two streets, turned a corner, and arrived at Garbage Street.

The garbage street looked completely different from when he came before.

There used to be a few vendors setting up stalls, an old man selling tires, and a teenager repairing motorcycles.

Today—it's completely empty.

All the tin sheds on both sides of the street were closed, with the roller shutters pulled all the way down, and some even had locks on them.

The ground was littered with trash—plastic bags, waste paper, rotten vegetable leaves—blown around by the wind. There was a burnt smell in the air, wafting from who-knows-where.

Chen Zheng drove the pickup truck directly into the garbage street, without parking it outside.

As they approached the Khalid Hardware Store, Chen Zheng saw Khalid standing at the entrance, holding up the Stechkin APS.

He pointed his gun at the five burly men opposite him, his face contorted with excitement, like a wild dog cornered against a wall, baring its teeth, ready to bite at any moment.

The five burly men were all quite tall, the tallest being at least 1.85 meters, broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, wearing a dirty white vest with several lines of Arabic tattoos on his arm, which were illegible.

The other four men stood behind him, each holding something—some with iron pipes, some with wooden sticks, and one clutching a rusty machete.

Khalid had his gun pointed at five people.

His back was pressed against the roller shutter door, his left hand clutching a bunch of keys, his right hand holding a gun, the muzzle steadily pointed at the tallest, strongest man's chest. His face was flushed red, and the veins on his temples bulged as if they were about to burst.

"Back off!" Khalid's voice echoed through the empty, garbage-strewn street. "I said back off! This shop is mine! If you take another step forward, I'll shoot!"

The burly man sneered and took a step forward.

"You try!" Khalid's finger landed on the trigger, his knuckles white. "Let's see if I dare!"

The burly man took another step forward.

The four men behind him also moved forward, the iron pipes dragging on the ground with a screeching sound.

Just then—

Chen Zheng floored the accelerator.

The 2.5-liter turbocharged diesel engine roared, and the pickup truck surged forward like an enraged bull.

Ten meters away, in less than two seconds.

By the time the five burly men heard the engine, it was too late—they turned around and saw a gray-white Toyota Hilux hurtling towards them, its bumper gleaming coldly in the morning light.

"Holy shit—"

The three people couldn't dodge in time.

"ah--!!!"

Heart-wrenching screams echoed through the empty, garbage-strewn streets, like the slaughter of pigs.

The pickup truck sped forward for more than ten meters before coming to a stop, its tires leaving two black skid marks on the gravel and raising a cloud of dust.

Chen Zheng pushed open the car door with his left hand, and with his right hand he had already drawn the APS from his waist. The magazine was full and the safety was off, but he pushed the safety off the moment he jumped out of the car.

He kicked open the car door, landed on one foot, followed by the other, and pointed the gun at the remaining two people.

His eyes were red, he licked his lips, and the sound that came out of his throat was as low as a wild beast's growl:

"You fucking block my car?! You son of a bitch, don't you watch where you're going?!"

The two men still standing shrank their pupils and felt a chill run down their spines. The burly man, in particular, swayed slightly.

Thump thump thump thump...

Chen Zheng pulled the trigger directly.

What is the nickname of Stechkin APS?

A torrential downpour of pear blossom needles!!!

At such close range, they were riddled with bullets.

With a click, the empty gun was loaded with bullets.

Chen Zheng stared at the corpse on the ground, his eyes twitching slightly, before glancing at Khalid, who stood beside him, dumbfounded.

"You fucking have a gun, why the hell are you wasting your breath talking to him, fuck!"

……