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

Colonel Katarina?!

The King of Kings of Africa, the Guardian of Islam, the Helmsman of the Arab Nation (self-proclaimed), and the Founder of the Third Theory of the World!

Lion of Africa, liberator of Africa, poet, writer, thinker (self-proclaimed).

He has a lot of titles, but the only one that really matters is: President of Libya!

The customer in front of me is Gaddafi's son!

Khalid then remembered why the other person looked familiar. This Saif al-Arab had caused a great deal of trouble during his time in Germany by speeding, disturbing the peace, and fighting in nightclubs. It even made the news.

He came to purchase weapons?

Yes! It's said that things aren't going well in Libya either, and they might be overthrown?

Is the Western coalition also going to take action?

Oh wow!!!

A major client!!!

Khalid quickly stood up and said to Saif with difficulty, "Please wait a moment. I think a client like you needs to contact our president so that he can personally receive you. Please wait a moment."

That's a beautifully said statement, and Saif naturally wouldn't refuse.

He leaned back in his chair, took out a cigar, and the bodyguard next to him immediately came over to light it for him. Smoke billowed from his nose as he waved to Old Ha.

Khalid rushed to a corner of the coffee shop, pulled out his phone, and called Chen Zheng, his excitement barely contained: "Boss, Big Head! He's a sucker! He's Gaddafi's son! Saif al-Islam Gaddafi! Yes, yes, the one from Libya!"

At that moment, Chen Zheng was sitting in a pickup truck 200 meters away from the coffee shop. When he heard Khalid reveal the other party's identity on the phone, his eyes lit up immediately, as if two lights had been lit in his pupils.

"I'm coming!"

He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, stubbed it out in the ashtray, and jumped out of the car.

My knee bent when I landed, and I almost twisted my ankle. Ignoring the pain, I took off running.

How can we keep our customers waiting?

(Back then, my boss laid out hundreds of meters of carpet...tsk tsk tsk.)

Orders, orders, orders!

Chen Zheng ran the 200-meter distance in less than 35 seconds.

As he rushed across the road, a pickup truck came from the side and nearly hit him. The driver honked his horn and cursed in Arabic.

Chen Zheng didn't even turn his head, only stretched out one hand and waved it behind him, without stopping.

When I reached the coffee shop entrance, I gasped for breath, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of my throat.

Then he took a deep breath, put on a "meeting a tycoon" expression, and walked into the coffee shop.

The bell on the door rang once.

Chen Zheng walked in, his gaze precisely locking onto Saif.

He looks like he's very rich.

Chen Zheng walked quickly, taking three steps at a time, and stretched out his hands from afar: "Mr. Saif! Hello, hello!"

Saif looked up at the Asian face that had suddenly appeared, and his lips twitched slightly.

Saif's lips twitched slightly, revealing a hint of surprise and a little bit of...disappointment that was hard to define.

"Asian?"

Khalid quickly introduced, "This is Mr. Bruce, the president of our Monster Factory."

Chen Zheng had already pulled out a chair and sat down. Hearing Khalid's words, he waved his hand and said with a smile, "What president or not, my friends all call me Bruce."

He leaned forward slightly, placing his hands crossed on the table. "Mr. Saif, you've come all the way from Libya, thank you for your hard work."

Saif leaned back in his chair, tapped his fingers lightly on the table twice, lingered on Chen Zheng's face for a few seconds, and then slowly nodded.

"I've already learned about your product."

He reached out and poked the white "mosquito" drone on the table with his index finger. The KT board body dented slightly under his finger's pressure, making a soft "click" sound.

"Is this what your drones look like?"

His tone was tinged with undisguised skepticism, his brows furrowed. "This is far too rudimentary! It looks like it's made of foam board. Can something like this go to war? Can it even fly?"

After listening to Saif's words, Chen Zheng was not in a hurry.

He picked up the "mosquito" from the table and held it in his palm.

The KT board fuselage gleamed white under the lights, and the blue stripes on the wingtips were hand-drawn by Four Eyes with a marker. The crooked green fanged monster stared with big eyes, truly resembling a kindergarten art assignment.

"Mr. Saif, you're right, this thing really doesn't look good."

Chen Zheng nodded. "When I first saw it, I also thought, 'What the hell is this thing? It's so ugly, just like Sarkozy from France.'"

This description pleased Saif greatly.

Because Sarkozy was the first among the major Western powers to propose military action against Libya!

Neither Colonel Gaddafi nor his son liked him.

They regarded him as an enemy.

Chen Zheng changed the subject, flipped the drone over to reveal the mounting point under its belly, and poked at the plastic clip secured with hot glue. "But sometimes it's not about how good it looks, it's about how well it works."

"Low cost, a few hundred US dollars per unit, used and then discarded, no worries. Zero casualties, your people can crouch behind a wall, push the remote control, and the other side will explode."

"What is it suitable for? It is suitable for large-scale urban warfare, for wars of attrition, and for saturation tactics. If you send out a hundred of them, as long as half of them crash in, the enemy will be crippled."

"Think about it, doesn't that make sense?"

Saif couldn't help but nod; he wasn't ignorant of military matters.

Chen Zheng understood immediately. He glanced at the emerald; it was worth at least several hundred thousand US dollars!

"However, you're not wrong, it is indeed rudimentary and has a small payload capacity, only able to carry 60 grams, the amount of a single hand grenade. We have something better, the Mosquito II!"

Ok…

If you already have them, just sell them at a higher price.

Chen Zheng said, "We've added a display screen and GPS, and it has FPV image transmission. You can just watch the screen and fly, it's as simple as playing a game. The payload has also been upgraded, with the belly suspension bay now able to carry a 200-gram warhead."

"Most importantly, the accuracy has also been greatly upgraded!"

Chen Zheng held up a finger and pointed forward, "With GPS positioning and image transmission, you can fly the drone within two meters of the target, then swoop down and crash directly into it—the top ventilation openings of tanks, the engine compartments of armored vehicles, the windows of buildings—you can hit exactly where you point."

"Do you know what 200 grams of TNT means?"

Chen Zheng gestured a circle with his hands, "The thinnest part of a T-72 tank is the top, and most anti-tank missiles attack the top. When a drone dives from directly above, the shockwave of 200 grams of TNT can crack the top armor of the turret and ignite the engine oil and fuel inside the vehicle."

He paused, looking into Saif's eyes, "A main battle tank costs millions of dollars, and it gets taken down by a drone. You can make that sense."

"The price has also gone up a bit, to $2000 per aircraft!!"

In 2011, the same price could have been obtained in Europe, but it was banned from sale in Libya!

The market price is $2000, so how much do you think Libya would need for a large-scale purchase?

Do you want one for $4.5000?

If it weren't for this price, would anyone do a business that carries the risk of death?

Hehehe... I'll quote myself $2000, then squeeze the cost down to $100!

Saif put down his cigar.

"Two thousand dollars a plane," he said. "A bit expensive."

Why would a rich kid pretend to be poor?

Libya's oil revenue is in the tens of billions of US dollars.

When Gaddafi was throwing money around in Africa, he didn't even blink an eye.

In 2009, he hosted a grand summit of Arab leaders in Rome, Italy, spending 200 million euros just on hotel expenses for his personal entourage.

His son actually thought the $2000 drone was too expensive?

Bah, how disgraceful!

Chen Zheng sighed and leaned forward.

"Mr. Saif, to be honest with you, the cost of this $2000 price tag is not low. The FPV image transmission system, GPS module, high-capacity battery, range extender antenna—these things all cost real money. Shipping costs, customs duties, and intermediary channel fees are all factored in. By the time it reaches me, more than half of the cost has already been taken up."

He said sincerely, "I'm giving you this price purely because you're my first major client, and I want to make friends with you. If you think it's too expensive, then just pretend I didn't say anything today, and let's negotiate down to 1 mosquito."

"That thing can be used for $800, but let me be blunt: it might be good for dealing with African natives, but it won't be easy against a European coalition. The Mosquito 2 has better penetrating power."

Now the whole world knows that Europe is going to take action against Libya.

Chen Zheng deliberately brought up the European coalition to tell Saif that his country was in great danger, and if he hesitated any longer, he could go home and collect his own corpse.

As expected, Chen Zheng's words caused Saif's face to visibly darken.

"Please wait a moment."

"I'll make a phone call."

Chen Zheng made a casual gesture.

Saif stood up, turned around, and walked to a corner of the coffee shop. With his back to Chen Zheng, he took out his phone from his pocket.

His back was slightly hunched, his left hand held his phone to his ear, his right hand was in his pocket, and his shoulders were taut.

He spoke in a very low voice, making it difficult to understand what he was saying, but he spoke very quickly. Occasionally, a syllable would rise in pitch and then immediately fall back down, as if he were arguing with the person on the other end of the phone or explaining something.

Chen Zheng leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over the Cuban cigar Saif had left on the table. The gold logo on the wrapper gleamed under the light, clearly indicating its high value.

"Boss."

Khalid leaned closer. "Do you think we can land this order?"

Chen Zheng took the cigarette out of his mouth. "Libya has reached this point; forget about going through the proper channels. Otherwise, he wouldn't be at this godforsaken exhibition, right?"

"Libya is like a bird trapped in a cage, unable to fly out. NATO warships are blocking it in the Mediterranean, and its neighboring countries on land are turning against it one by one. If it wants to buy weapons, it has no other way to do so except through underground channels like ours."

He added, "This is a seller's market. He's not here to negotiate prices; he's here to beg us to sell to him."

How can you sell weapons without kicking someone when they're down?

"You know a lot," Khalid said with a smile.

"Read more books and newspapers, eat fewer snacks, and sleep more."

Chen Zheng patted Khalid on the shoulder and said, "Information is money. If you know three days earlier than others that something is going to happen in Libya, you can earn three more days' worth of money."

About ten minutes later, Saif hung up the phone.

He walked back to the table. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

Chen Zheng smiled and shook his head: "No rush, Mr. Saif, take your time. As long as the client is satisfied, I can wait forever."

If you don't place an order...

I'm so angry!

"We need 1000 Mosquito Type 1 drones!"

Chen Zheng's eyelid twitched, but his expression remained unchanged.

"Mosquito Type 2, 500 units." Saif held up five fingers. "1500 units, within a month, can you deliver them?"

Khalid's throat bobbed twice as he stood there.

Big order!

He didn't show up at all. Look at Boss Chen... his legs were just trembling slightly.

Chen quickly calculated in his mind.

蚊子1型800美金一架，1000架就是80万美金。蚊子2型2000美金一架，500架就是100万美金。合计180万美金。

180 million!

He didn't dare burn paper money that big when he burned it for his grandfather.

He licked his lips.

At this point, I'm also wondering if I should charter a plane to Yiwu for this order? And maybe go back myself while I'm at it?

"Delivery within one month is no problem, but there's one condition: we are not responsible for delivery. You will need to arrange the transportation yourself. I will only be responsible for getting the goods to Zahle. I will take responsibility for any problems that occur before Zahle, but once the goods leave Zahle, the responsibility will be entirely yours."

Saif nodded without hesitation: "I'll arrange the transportation; I have people."

"That's a prepayment of one million US dollars." Chen Zheng held up one finger.

Saif frowned slightly.

He repeated himself, a hint of displeasure in his voice, "Bruce, do you know how much a million dollars is? I haven't even seen the goods, and you want me to give you a million dollars first?"

"What you said makes sense. Let's find a middleman."

Chen Zheng turned and winked at Khalid.

Khalid understood, stood up, walked to the entrance of the coffee shop, and waved to the outside.

Nabil Taha was standing at the door smoking when he saw Khalid beckoning. He threw his cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out, straightened the collar of his robe, and came in.

"Mr. Nabil, please have a seat." Chen Zheng smiled and gestured to the chair next to him.

Nabil sat down, his gaze lingering for a moment on the white "mosquito" drone on the table, then looked at Chen Zheng, and then at Saif.

He was a smart man and knew that he shouldn't ask too many questions in this situation; he just waited for the other person to speak.

"Mr. Nabil," Chen Zheng put the cigarette back in his mouth, lit it, and took a puff, "this order is worth a total of US$180 million."

Nabil's eyelid twitched.

"According to your rules, a five percent commission would be $90,000."

Chen Zheng took the cigarette out of his mouth, flicked off the ash, and said, "For this order, Mr. Saif wants to pay a one million US dollar prepayment, but I don't know him, and he doesn't know me. This is our first time doing business together, so who can trust whom?"

"Therefore, you are required to act as guarantor."

Nabil frowned. "Inside..."

Chen Zheng interrupted him, his tone becoming serious, "You don't need to explain to me, a 5% commission isn't that easy to get, right?"

Nabil's Adam's apple bobbed, and his expression changed from troubled to hesitant, and then from hesitant to an indescribable entanglement.

$9 million.

He works as a middleman in Zahle, taking a 5% cut from each deal. It sounds like a lot, but he only gets a few big deals worth over $100,000 a year.

Most of the time, he handled small deals worth a few thousand or tens of thousands of US dollars, taking a cut of a few hundred or a thousand US dollars. After deducting the cost of bribing various parties, what he actually made was barely enough to support his family.

If this deal goes through, the $9 will be equivalent to more than half a year's income for him.

But the risks are also high.

Assam, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke up.

"Mr. Nabil".

Nabil turned his head and looked at Assam.

Assam looked at him and said, "You can rest assured and guarantee that if anything goes wrong, come to me."

Nabil frowned slightly. "And you are?"

"My father's name was Alberta, and he was martyred for resisting tyranny."

"My uncle was also martyred in retaliation against the Israelites!"

Assam paused, then added, "Mr. Abu of the Fatah Bekaa Valley Council is my sworn brother, whom I swore brotherhood with under the watchful eye of God."

Why did Chen Zheng feel that the other person had a "sacred" look when he introduced himself?

Holy crap…

A second-generation bomber?!

A family of cannon makers!