Chapter 9: Talent

Are there any talented brothers in Africa? 

Sure, there are, but unfortunately, Joja doesn't know many of them. 

Most of the people he's met are similar to Zabu, basic laborers, or slick old hands like the airport owner, Selim. 

Laziness is almost a universal trait in Africa. As long as they can eat and have a fire, they can party. Add some alcohol, and they can party until the next morning. 

This isn't as apparent in Northern Sudan (SD), where the survival pressure is higher and where most people are Muslim. The people here are often mixed-race. 

However, in the regions bordering Southern Sudan (SD), including the entire southern area, these places are ruled by various tribes. The people here are the epitome of living in the moment. 

Their optimism is real, but so is their brutality! 

The so-called tribal militias are, in relatively chaotic times, no better than bandits. 

Joja witnessed this firsthand as a child when two nearby villages fought over water, leading to deaths and a lasting feud, with the two sides refusing to intermarry. 

Tribes here operate similarly. They are willing to kill over territory, benefits, or even a few cattle, and they don't hesitate to act, turning grudges into deep, bloody feuds. 

The person who ordered the AK-74s from Joja is a militia leader from the Siluk tribe. 

Joja specifically sought information and found that the Siluk tribe was currently in conflict with the Dinka tribe's militia, with many casualties reported. The rush to buy guns is likely an attempt to regain their position. 

They definitely can't win against the Dinka tribe, and fifty rifles will only allow them to maintain some ability to fight back. 

This is why Joja decided to take the risk, driven partly by a sense of justice and partly because, as the weaker side, the Siluk people theoretically shouldn't make more enemies, especially those who could help them. 

But even with this reasoning, Joja still felt uneasy. Going to someone else's territory for business alone isn't just about courage. 

So, when Zabu mentioned that Wild Bull Allen and Hyena Kaman could be hired, Joja was tempted. 

Earlier, I mentioned the issue of African talent. In Joja's eyes, Wild Bull Allen is a typical "talent" of Africa. He stands two meters tall, strong as an ox, capable of strangling a zebra with his bare hands, and can carry 80 kilograms of luggage without breaking a sweat. 

Most importantly, this guy looks like a bandit, and he has a wild personality. 

It's his personality that makes Joja dislike him. 

But Hyena Kaman is different. He's from the Bari tribe and is now the most experienced hunting guide and grassland guide in Damazin. 

This 45-year-old man has been fighting for over thirty years. As a tribal mercenary, he has never stopped fighting. 

From bows and machetes to rifles, this guy is a living, breathing fossil of African warfare and has somehow survived such high-frequency conflicts. He's a true veteran of countless battles. 

Africans might not care, but Joja knows that surviving thirty years of fighting, from the age of fifteen to now, this guy could write a book and make it the textbook for African warlords if only he were literate. 

In Joja's eyes, this is true talent! 

Joja waited at the airport for half an hour, but pilot Selim still hadn't arrived. Instead, Zabu showed up with three black men. 

Wild Bull Allen, Hyena Kaman, and a slightly younger black man. 

Zabu grinned, showing his missing teeth as he rushed to Joja's side, saying, "Jackal, I brought the people you wanted. If you decide to hire them, you must tip me." 

Joja reluctantly pulled out a stack of small bills, picked out two five-dollar notes, and stuffed them into Zabu's hand, saying, "Don't go spending it on alcohol. Buy more food for your wife and kids." 

Zabu, now holding U.S. dollars, barely heard what Joja was saying. 

He happily danced around, holding the two-dollar bills up to the sun, inspecting them from every angle. 

The money in Joja's hand caught Wild Bull Allen's eye, and the ferocious-looking black man greedily stared at Joja, saying, "If you want to hire me, you must first give me $1,000. I can work for you for $100 a day." 

Zabu, hearing Allen's price, angrily shouted, "Hey, Allen, that's not fair! Jackal is my uncle's friend." 

Wild Bull Allen glared at Zabu with a strange look, waving him off, "There's no such thing as fairness. In Damazin, I am fairness. What does this guy have in the luggage rack? Phones? Computers? Lights? 

If he doesn't pay me, he won't leave Damazin." 

Joja had seen plenty of scumbags like Wild Bull Allen in his life, even without considering Allen's size. 

He waved his hand to calm both the angry Zabu and the proud Allen, then turned his face toward Kaman. 

Kaman was a slightly gaunt middle-aged black man who, though said to be 45 years old, looked more like he was 60. 

His bald head was covered by a dirty baseball cap, with a white beard and a set of camouflage fatigues. 

Standing about 1.75 meters tall, Kaman's hunched back made him seem less than 1.7 meters, and his overly large fatigues made him look a bit comical. 

To the average person, this was just a lifeless old man nearing death. But Joja didn't dare look directly into Kaman's eyes, not because they were particularly intimidating but because they seemed lifeless. 

His eyes were almost devoid of light, but Joja, even as a rookie, instinctively felt a bit scared. It was a physiological reaction, unrelated to anything else. 

Avoiding Kaman's eyes and instead focusing on his nose, Joja asked with a smile, "Are you willing to work for me?" 

Kaman nodded and replied in fairly fluent English, "Yes, sir. I need money. 

If the price is right, I'm willing to work for you." 

Joja hesitated for a moment and then asked, "What can you do?" 

Kaman glanced at the arrogant Allen beside him and said, "That depends on how much you pay me..." 

Then Kaman pulled the young black man beside him and said, "This is my son, Muto. He's a hardworking young man with a beautiful wife. 

But his first two children didn't survive, and last week, his wife, carrying his third child, died in childbirth. 

He wants to leave this place, go to Ethiopia, and start over by running a farm. 

That would require at least $20,000! 

If you give me $20,000, I'll do anything for you. I know Africa very well." 

Kaman's "job application" made Wild Bull Allen burst into laughter, and he continued to mock Kaman's ignorance in local African slang. 

Joja ignored the big guy and stepped closer to Kaman, whispering, "Do you know what's in the luggage rack of the plane?" 

Kaman looked up and softly replied, "Judging by the size, they're guns!" 

Joja placed a hand on Kaman's shoulder and whispered in his ear, "An advance payment of $20,000 and an annual salary of $20,000. 

If you work for me for a year, you'll earn $40,000. If you die, I'll add another $20,000 as a death benefit for your son. 

Do you have any concerns about my current situation?" 

Upon hearing this, Kaman instinctively licked his dry lips, then suddenly crouched down and lunged at Wild Bull Allen like a wild dog attacking a lion...