King Of War: Starting with Arms Dealer

The park management had prepared accommodations for Joe Ga, but he chose to accept John's invitation to the Animal Rescue Center with John and his wife.

Linda, the young black sister, was probably more assertive in social situations than Lenore due to her family background.

Understanding Joe Ga's intentions, she went to try to send away the park management staff so they wouldn't disturb Joe Ga. They only needed to arrange a few armed guards as a token of respect from the park management.

Joe Ga, whose mind was very clear at the moment, didn't display any arrogance. He amiably declined the guards arranged by the management.

Seeing those security guards trying to appear professional with their outdated AKs, Joe Ga smiled and gestured for Dorian to bring the gifts he had brought from the helicopter.

He presented the somewhat awkward park management boss with a custom-branded 'P·B shotgun' from Yuginebert Company.

He then gave each of the robust-looking security guards a Yuginebert-produced M05N1, a modern version of the AK47, still using 7.62*51mm machine gun rounds and a 30-round magazine. With these weapons, the guards' defensive capabilities would be tremendous.

Joe Ga's business started with arms dealing, so gifting arms was second nature to him, especially when the recipient appreciated such gifts.

Watching the park manager, Yoda, holding the shotgun with great attachment, Joe Ga shook hands with him. After patting Yoda on the arm, he said, "I'll be counting on you in the future!"

Yoda, probably not used to such personable VIPs, nodded and grinned continuously, saying, "Don't worry, don't worry..."

Joe Ga looked at Yoda, who seemed hesitant to speak, gave a carefree smile, and said, "I'm going to stay at John's for a few days. You're the boss here, so please pass on a message for me. Nobody touches the Lion King Namo. I'll take care of his situation in a while."

As he spoke, Joe Ga saw Yoda seemed to have something to say but held back. Joe Ga smiled and reassured him, "Don't worry, I won't hurt Namo.

Oh, and not just Namo—tell those with a history of poaching to stop all their hunting. We can discuss a reasonable solution.

I need a peaceful savannah to sustain my investment, and let's avoid troublesome acts like chasing elephants on foot for a few dollars."

Having said that, Joe Ga was about to turn away when he suddenly remembered something. He slapped his forehead, turned back, and took out a wad of US Dollars from his pocket. He counted out about a thousand and handed them to Yoda, saying, "Freeman and his son probably won't have the energy to discuss ivory now. Give this money to that guy named Manlo, tell him to buy medicine for his wife and kids.

His two elephant tusks can be donated to your management."

After finishing everything, Joe Ga didn't wait for Yoda's complex response, turned to find John, and the group drove three pickup trucks. After leaving the town and driving about 5 kilometers north, they finally arrived at the Animal Rescue Center before dawn.

John's rescue center wasn't as dire as he had described; according to Joe Ga's standards, it was actually pretty good.

A medical room, a dining room, a recreation room, a row of staff dormitories, and a dozen cabins scattered around.

This was a standard commercial rescue center, but Central Africa's unfortunate circumstances meant that for most people, there wasn't much appeal, so those cabins were vacant.

When Joe Ga and his companions arrived around 5 a.m., by the time their vehicles reached the center's parking area, people were already busy.

Some were preparing breakfast, and others were getting food ready for the animals...

The whole rescue center had 10 people and six vehicles, each person busily engaged in their tasks.

Seeing Joe Ga observing the rescue center from the side of the pickup, John approached with a smile and said, "Actually, I need 20 people here, but I don't have enough funds..."

Joe Ga shook his head and said, "You're joking, the people here would laugh if they got 30 a month. How could you possibly not have enough funds to hire people?"

John waved at a few people passing by in the distance, then looked at Joe Ga and said, "Are you mistaken? How can it be 30 US Dollars?

The flow of foreigners here is higher than the locals, and local agriculture isn't very developed. All the vegetables and food supplies have to be transported from hundreds of kilometers away, plus many things tourists like, such as alcoholic beverages, even need to be imported from abroad.

The cost of living here is a bit higher compared to other parts of Central Africa. To employ a full-time worker here, you need at least 200 dollars a month.

This is already quite a low salary standard in the Africa Animal Rescue Center."

Joe Ga listened and began to understand. It was akin to how some people in China's fourth-tier cities could scrape by on 3000 yuan, but in super first-tier cities, even with housing, a monthly income of 30,000 yuan might feel pressuring.

The comparison was a bit of a stretch, but Central Africa's distorted industry structure has made N'Délé, this small town, unexpectedly, apart from Capital Bangui, the place most tightly linked to the world.

The tourism industry is the only pillar there. Tourists not only bring income to the locals, but their demands also artificially inflate local prices.

This should not be considered a bad thing, but the quantity of tourists is clearly insufficient, leading to poverty among locals. They can't even farm or raise cattle extensively due to national park regulations.

Without enough tourists, the prices for handicrafts and services remain low, yet the cost of living has gone up.

The simplest comparison is that the people in Sangha Town can eat cassava with beans three meals a day and still save a few dollars out of 30 by the end of the month. Here in N'Dele, it's also cassava three times a day, but even with 200 dollars, you wouldn't save much either.

The location of N'Dele is too remote. Although it's only 170 kilometers as the crow flies from the nearest city to the south, the winding roads built according to the terrain stretch the distance to over 400 kilometers. During the dry season, you can manage a trip, but in the rainy season, a single journey could be too much for a vehicle to withstand without any guarantee.

Who would believe that the most common means of transport to and from this small town in Africa is by airplane?

Foreign tourists landing in Bangui can take a small plane costing between 80 and 150 US Dollars to fly here from the Capital.

The small planes have poor transport capacity. The cost of bringing in those cheap agricultural products by truck would also rise significantly, so the smart move is to transport items with a higher added value, which in turn indirectly drives up the prices of goods.

This place is actually an island. Those on the outside envy the high incomes of those living here, and those here, while proud, are increasingly reluctant to give up their lifestyle.

This is somewhat different from what Qian Zhongshu described in 'Fortress Besieged': people on the outside want in, but those inside, no matter how tired they are, don't want to leave because they know it's even worse and more dangerous outside!

John looked at Joe Ga's thoughtful expression and said helplessly, "The wildlife protection fund can only provide me with 300,000 US Dollars funding each year, and that's hardly enough to take good care of those animals that cannot fend for themselves.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

So sometimes we have to find food for the animals ourselves..."

As he spoke, John pointed to a middle-aged black man dragging green bananas out of a warehouse and shook his head, "We have to go to the wild banana grove 25 kilometers to the northwest every week to pick bananas, and sometimes I have to lead hunting expeditions into the savanna myself.

I've been trying to find a way for transnational animal adoption, but so far, it seems people are only interested in lions and cheetahs.

I've called many zoos around the world, but the only one that has really accepted injured animals from here was one in Guangzhou, China. They took away more than a dozen gazelles and a few cheetahs.

There are still many animals here with nowhere to go, either with some physical defects or not yet of age; to let them into the wild is to send them off to die."

Joe Ga nodded in understanding; John's approach was the right one. His main rescue targets are injured animals or animal cubs.

The cubs can be released back into the savannah once they are grown, but it's different for the injured ones; once they have a physical defect, it's like sending them off to die if you let them go.

Keeping them requires a lot of money, and those cubs need rewilding training when they come of age, which requires even more money and manpower.

This is a charitable venture; the only income you can rely on is external funding.

Given the scale of John's rescue center, unless he is a heartless bastard, 300,000 a year is far from enough.

Luckily, Joe Ga came with the intention of solving problems. Faced with John's troubled narrative, he smiled and waved his hand, "First, I need to find a place to sleep. Let's talk over lunch, and I think I'll take the helicopter out in the afternoon for a spin. Come with me, I need to find a suitable spot to build a resort."

As he said this, Joe Ga turned around, looked about, pushed away the little elephant constantly nudging him, and chuckled, "I think this place is only fit for an animal hospital. I need a location that has simple access to scenery, geographic position, and food.

Otherwise, just getting bananas for this little one could drive me insane."

John nodded with a smile and said, "You've got time to consider that; come with me, I have ten small cabins here.

I too once fantasized that my place could be like the animal rescue centers in Botswana, open to tourists and volunteers to earn some fees while giving volunteers driven by compassion a place to contribute.

Unfortunately, reality gave me a rude awakening; now I only have one volunteer here, and sadly, one who can't afford to pay for their room.

Fortunately, he's really interested in working and is also a decent medical assistant, ha..."

John put on a brave face of optimism and led Joe Ga and the others to a few relatively refined cabins, saying with a laugh, "There's a bit of a musty smell, but they're pretty clean, you can pick any one you like.

You can eat at the restaurant and wash up in the blue house across the way..."

As Joe Ga was about to push open the door of one of the cabins, a tall man emerged from the neighboring house, dressing and opening his door at the same time.

He seemed a bit surprised to see new faces here, so he hurriedly pulled on his T-shirt, but the gunshot wound on his abdomen and the numerous scars on his arm still caught Joe Ga's attention.

Handsome but with a somewhat despondent air, this white middle-aged man had a vibe akin to a seasoned Clint Eastwood — and likely a soldier, at least at some point!

Feeling the atmosphere grow a bit tense, John introduced with a smile, "This is the only volunteer I have here, Kenny Rogers. We all call him 'Medic Officer Bird'."

Joe Ga looked at Kenny Rogers with a slightly guarded expression on his face, nodded as a greeting, and then took the lead by stepping into his own cabin...