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

The wailing of the air raid sirens still echoed overhead... even more pitiful than the screams of a porn star.

"This way! Assam, take them to the basement!!" Hassan shouted, his face flushed.

Assam responded and led them to a basement, where he yanked open the iron door.

"Get down! Get down now!"

Chen Zheng missed a step and almost tumbled down the steps. He reached out to brace himself against the wall, scraping off a layer of skin from his palm.

Khalid followed behind, bumping his head against the door frame with a muffled groan, but still clung tightly to the travel bag.

Heads may be severed, blood may flow…

If you lose your money, what's the point of playing this game?

basement.

It was about 20 square meters, square in shape, with a very low ceiling. Chen Zheng, who was 1.78 meters tall, could reach out and touch the ceiling.

Several old carpets were laid on the ground, some quilts and buckets were piled in the corner, and there was a tin box covered in dust.

A row of wooden shelves was nailed to the wall, holding several buckets of water and some canned goods.

The air was thick with a musty and damp smell, mixed with the dust of concrete, making it hard to breathe.

Assam was the last to come down, closed the iron gate, and bolted it shut.

Darkness instantly engulfed us, leaving only the dim yellow light of the emergency lights.

"Squat down, squat against the wall." Hassan lowered his voice and spoke quickly. "This basement was dug in the 1980s, and there's more than a meter of concrete on top. Ordinary aerial bombs can't penetrate it."

boom--

A muffled thud came from above, causing dust to fall from the ceiling.

Chen Zheng subconsciously shrank his neck, and dust settled on his hair and shoulders, as fine as flour.

Boom—Boom—

Two more sounds, even closer than before.

The emergency light in the basement flickered, went out, and then came back on.

Chen Zheng felt his heart pounding like a pile driver, so fast it made his eardrums throb.

Many people have never been hit by a cannon, except for the prostitutes on the street.

They had no idea that feeling a bombing overhead in a confined space was an extremely terrifying experience.

It can even... drive you crazy!

Chen Zheng took a deep breath, like he was working a bellows.

Khalid was clutching the travel bag, curled up in the corner, pressing it tightly against his chest. His lips were moving, as if he were muttering something, but his voice was too low to be heard.

He was reciting ancient scriptures.

I don't know how much time has passed.

One minute.

five minutes.

ten minutes.

A knocking sound came from above.

Thump—thump thump—thump—

Three times, rhythmically.

Assam stood up from the ground and pulled open the bolt on the iron gate.

The door was pushed open from the outside, and the light from the emergency lights rushed in, making Chen Zheng squint.

A young man stood in the doorway, wearing a dark robe, a checkered turban, his face covered in ash, his eyes red-rimmed, and his lips chapped and peeling.

"It's alright," he said, his voice hoarse.

Chen Zheng stood up from the ground, his legs were a little weak, and his kneecaps cracked twice.

Go up the stairs.

He walked to the door and glanced outside.

The air was filled with that indescribable smell, so strong it was pungent, and every breath made my throat feel tight.

Abu Hassan stood in the middle of the courtyard, talking to several people.

He saw Chen Zheng and the others come out of the building, nodded, and said nothing more than a single sentence.

"I'm going to the scene now, you guys do as you please."

After saying that, he turned and left quickly, the hem of his robe fluttering in the wind.

Several people followed behind, one of whom was carrying a white first-aid kit with a red cross logo, and the kit was covered in dust.

Chen Zheng stood at the door, watching Abu Hassan's figure disappear beyond the iron gate.

The sound of crying came from afar.

"Let's go," Assam said in a low voice, opening the car door. "I'll take you back."

The three people got into the car.

Assam started the engine, and the car slowly drove out of the yard and onto the main road.

The streets were packed with people.

Panic, fear, dread...

A young man stood in front of the ruins, holding a child in his arms, crying loudly and holding the child tightly.

My toes were covered in ash, and there was a cut on my calf where the blood had dried and formed a dark red scab.

Chen Zheng stared at the child.

The child was wearing a blue T-shirt with a cartoon Mickey Mouse printed on it. Mickey Mouse's smiling face was covered in dust, and only his two round ears were still visible.

The child's toes were dangling in the air, swaying back and forth.

Those feet were very small, only about the length of Chen Zheng's palm. The toes were round, and the nails were pink, but they were covered in gray. The gray covered the color of the nails, leaving only a layer of grayish white.

A middle-aged woman rushed out of the crowd, pounced on the man, and reached out to snatch the child.

Her mouth was wide open, as if she were shouting something, but her voice was hoarse and only a series of breaths could be heard, like a broken radio.

Assam bit his lip and angrily punched the car.

"Those sons of bitches, those Israelis, bombed a school!!!!"

Chen Zheng looked at the frantic parents at the door; their pitiful cries were heartbreaking.

Many people had despair in their eyes!

These people…

Perhaps in the future, bubble tea shops, Fatah... will be added...

If the future is gone, what does anything else have to do with me?

Chen Zheng learned from this incident that there can never be peace in the Middle East!

The car slowly drove out of that street, turned onto the main road, and headed towards the gas station.

The three of them remained silent the entire way.

Assam gripped the steering wheel with both hands, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his expression tense.

Chen Zheng rolled down the car window halfway to let some fresh air in. The air smelled burnt, dusty, and had an indescribable sweet smell, like something had been burned.

The car stopped at the gas station.

Chen Zheng got out of the car, and Khalid followed behind him with his travel bag.

Chen Zheng opened the passenger door and bent down to look at Assam.

"Be careful on the road," he said.

Assam nodded without saying anything.

Just as Chen Zheng was about to close the car door, Assam suddenly spoke.

"List."

"Um."

"When your factory can manufacture artillery," he said, enunciating each word clearly, "you must give it to me first, then I'll go and blast them to smithereens."

Chen Zheng looked at him and nodded.

"it is good."

Khalid tossed the money bag into the back seat, opened the car door, and got into the driver's seat.

It's a little bit of a sore throat.

Khalid suddenly spoke up, "Boss."

"Um."

"We business people shouldn't let our emotions get the better of us."

"It was just an air raid that happened on February 2, 2011, a very, very ordinary air raid."

Chen Zheng turned his head to look at him.

"You Middle Easterner," Chen Zheng said, "have a more open-minded attitude than I do."

Khalid chuckled.

He took out a cigarette from his pocket, put one in his mouth, took a drag, and exhaled smoke from his nose.

"What's the point of us getting angry?"

He said, his voice carrying an indescribable weariness, "Can anger devour an Israeli alive?"

He paused, exhaled the smoke, and watched it dissipate in front of the windshield.

"The Middle East is not united at all. The princes and sheikhs only care about their own wealth and glory, and no one cares about the anger of the common people."

He shook his head; the smile was still on his lips, but it looked somewhat bitter.

"The school was bombed today, but it might just be a bargaining chip for politicians to use at the negotiating table tomorrow; it's not really a big deal. What's the point of being angry?"

"Who cares about the lives of ordinary people?"

Just as Chen Zheng was in a daze, a voice suddenly rang in his mind.

Ding.

It was very light and crisp, like a glass being tapped.

He paused for a moment, then subconsciously touched his head.

Khalid glanced at him: "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Chen Zheng said, putting his hand down. "I probably just didn't sleep well."

[System Prompt]

The regional influence has met the upgrade requirements!

Current regional influence: 187/100

Factory Level: Lv.1 → Lv.2

[Upgrade Rewards]

Unlock special ability: [Copy]

Note: You can select one existing machine to create an exact replica. The replica retains 100% of the original machine's performance and inherits the Monster Factory's additional attribute bonuses.

Uses: 1 time (cannot be accumulated, reset after upgrade)

Monster workers all have their attributes increased.

Machining accuracy: +10% → +15%

Processing speed: +10% → +16%

(Note: Attribute boosts apply to both summoned and unsummoned peons.)

Unlock a new monster type: [Monster Crafter]

Description: Level 2 Monster, proficient in precision machining, ultra-precision machining, and micro-machining. Skilled in processing highly complex materials (such as titanium alloys, high-temperature alloys, and composite materials). Capable of understanding and executing nanometer-level tolerance requirements; possesses high intelligence; a mainstay of the Monster Factory!

It can be used to reverse-engineer the blueprints for most individual light weapons, and there is a chance to reverse-engineer heavy weapons!

Summoning Price: 5000 Gold Coins/each

Unlock condition: Factory Lv.2

[Next level upgrade requirements]

Regional influence: 2000

Current regional influence: 187/2000

[Tip: Regional influence can be enhanced through product distribution, customer recognition, market share, and special events.]

Chen Zheng stared at the interface in his mind for several seconds.

clone.

One copy opportunity.

Select one of the existing machines and generate an exact copy.

Chen Zheng's mind began to race.

What equipment is currently available?

DMG MORI DMU 60 5-axis linkage machining center.

Haas VF-2 vertical machining center.

CAK5085 CNC lathe.

SK40P CNC lathe.

T2108 deep hole drilling machine.

X6132 horizontal universal milling machine.

M1432B universal cylindrical grinding machine.

J23-63 ton open inclinable press.

Which one should we copy?

DMG MORI is the most expensive and also the most precise, with five-axis linkage, capable of handling the most complex tasks.

However, the T2108 deep hole drilling machine is specifically designed for drilling gun barrels, which are the core components. Moreover, this machine has a rare quality buff—drilling speed +120% and accuracy +70%.

Replicating a T2108 drill doubles the production capacity of deep hole drilling.

Replicating a DMG MORI doubles the processing capacity for complex parts.

He licked his lips!

Then he saw the newly unlocked monster species.

Monster Seiko.

A level-two monster, proficient in precision machining, ultra-precision machining, and micro-machining. It can understand and execute nanometer-level tolerance requirements.

Summoning price: 5000 gold coins each.

$5000 each.

not cheap.

But it's worth it.

Very worthwhile.

Nanometer-level tolerances.

That's top-tier precision for making gun barrels, bolts, firing pins, and rifling. With that kind of precision, you could make anything from AKMs to sniper rifles, designated marksman rifles, and even cannon barrels.

Chen Zheng took a deep breath and turned off the interface in his mind.

"Boss," Khalid called out again.

"Huh?" Chen Zheng came back to his senses.

"We've arrived at the checkpoint."

Chen Zheng glanced ahead and saw the border checkpoint just 200 meters away. The red and white striped railing stood across the middle of the road, and several soldiers in camouflage uniforms stood beside it, holding guns.

One of the soldiers was waving at them, signaling them to stop.

Khalid stopped the car and rolled down the window.

The soldier walked over, bent down, and glanced into the car.

"Where are you from?" he asked in Arabic.

"A Syrian," Khalid said, pointing to Chen Zheng. "He's Chinese, a friend of mine, doing business in Syria."

The soldier glanced at Chen Zheng, then at the travel bag on the back seat.

"What is that?"

"Luggage," Khalid said. "We just got back from visiting relatives in Lebanon."

The soldier stared at the travel bag for two seconds, then reached out and poked it with the barrel of his gun.

The gun barrel struck the bag with a dull thud.

The soldier looked at Khalid again, then at Chen Zheng.

"Where's your identification?"

Chen Zheng hurriedly handed over his identification document, which was a lump of paper issued by the Syrian government.

The other person took it and opened it, and inside was a stack of Syrian pounds—a stack! A stack!

His face immediately broke into a smile, he waved behind him, and then said to Chen Zheng, "Welcome back."

"Excuse me, what's been happening in Della City lately? The checks are so strict."

The soldier glanced back and lowered his voice, "The mayor has been bombed, and there's internal strife among the rebels!"

"Thanks!"

Chen Zheng nodded and smiled at him.

The railing has been raised.

Khalid stepped on the gas, and the Corolla passed through the checkpoint and drove back to Dera.

Chen Zheng leaned back in his seat, exhaled smoke, and looked out at the hazy sky.

"Dela is changing. We can't wait any longer. Tomorrow, we're moving!"

Khalid looked at him. "So eager?"

"If you don't hurry, you'll get your life in this mess. Let me tell you the second trick to doing business: buddy."

Khalid looked at him.

"Never fight against the trend of the times; go with the flow."

Old Ha nodded, seemingly understanding but not quite.

Chen Zheng took the bag from behind, unzipped it, and took out about $5 from it, handing it to him and saying, "Please also help me send my parents off, buy them plane tickets, arrange for them to leave Syria for Saudi Arabia, and find a private hospital there to pick them up at the airport."

"You want me to deliver it again? Last time I did, your mother kept grabbing my hand and asking where the money came from, and what we were doing."

Chen Zheng looked at him. "What did you say?"

"I told them that the Syrian government was going to produce rockets to go to the moon, and we got one of the orders."

"You're really talking nonsense! You might as well say Syria is going to take to the moon!" Chen Zheng couldn't help but complain. "Of course, when our factory starts producing rockets, we'll just put you in one and launch it."

"Wait until our factory produces rockets?" Khalid clearly didn't believe it. "Even Jesus had to eat Sichuan food."

"???? Why?"

"Because it's oily!!"

……