King Of War: Starting with Arms Dealer

Joe Ga felt that the conditions Old Bull had put forward were a bit unreliable, but the 'cook soldier' indeed held a legendary status in his heart.

Back in Kamu's expatriate worker dorms, Joe Ga knew a guy who used to be a 'cook soldier' responsible for a construction site canteen.

Every time he listened to that guy boasting, Joe Ga would yearn for the 'cook soldier.'

They not only had to carry pots into battle and cook but, whenever high-ranking inspections occurred, these cook soldiers' military skills were especially scrutinized.

As those leaders always felt, if the military skills of the battalion's cook soldiers were up to standard, then the other soldiers must be fine too.

Joe Ga wasn't sure if there was any exaggeration involved, but he had seen the cook soldiers at work. Feeding over 100 people, that guy, with the help of a few assistants, managed everything from procurement to cooking in a full-package service, and the skills were actually not bad.

After everyone finished eating, they had to give a thumbs up and praise it as 'delicious.' Occasionally, the company's leaders would come over to mooch off the workers' meals.

However, paying a cook soldier a yearly salary of 100,000 US Dollars was still too extravagant. Joe Ga wanted a cook soldier, but he didn't want them to fight. If it was just for logistics, even 50,000 dollars a year would be a lot.

After glancing at an extremely exhausted yet mechanically marching Tony, Joe Ga hesitated and said to Old Bull, "I do need a cook soldier, but there's no way I'm offering a yearly salary of 100,000. Even 50,000 is a bit much because I won't be sending the cook soldier into battle."

As he spoke, Joe Ga looked at Old Bull, who seemed a bit anxious, and with a smile, said, "Don't rush it. I have another plan. I'll give you 100,000 for a year, but this 100,000 isn't for you alone. You need to organize a team of cook soldiers.

Look at these people, and you'll see that the 100,000 they get is indeed blood money. You don't have to fight, just help me train a batch of cook soldiers."

"I only care about the results. I'll give you 100,000; you handle the entire camp's meals. Of course, I'll figure out all the raw materials; you just need to find some diligent people and train them a bit.

Local folks would work to the bone for a salary of 30 to 50 dollars a month, let alone help cook. By then, if you want to bring this kid along, I agree, since you'll be handling his salary, and I won't interfere."

Old Bull smacked his forehead and smacked his lips, saying, "According to this, the money is enough, but I feel a bit unsettled. Why can't I fight? I've been honored as a training model before.

So I ended up as a mercenary, and still as a cook?"

After hearing this, Joe Ga said with a smile, "What's wrong with being a cook? I know a guy just like you who took over a worker's canteen in Kamu, worked for two years, then went home, built a house, and married a beautiful wife.

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Even if you end up with only 50,000, that's nearly 400,000 Yuan. You still find that low? I'm covering your food, lodging, and equipment.

"It's because you guys are all elite. If it were locals, how much would a five-star hotel chef make?"

As he spoke, Joe Ga looked at Old Bull, who was still a bit upset, and with a laugh, said, "Then how about this: if you go on combat duty, you still get a daily allowance of 500.

That way your treatment will be the same as those mercenaries; it doesn't matter whether you fight or not, at least you'll have the notion."

Old Bull pondered the salary standards set by Joe Ga, 50,000 a year plus combat duty allowance, or 100,000 a year without any allowance.

Anyone knew that choosing 100,000 a year was secure, but you'd be worked to death.

Choosing 50,000 plus an allowance was different. If needed, one could always push the tasks around, taking turns; it might earn slightly less, but safety was improved.

Old Bull figured it out and thought the deal was really good. He would take 50,000, Tony would get 20,000, and the remaining 30,000 could be used for hiring. Truly, at a monthly rate of 30 to 50 dollars, hiring 30 people would still leave some money to spare.

Old Bull nodded firmly and said, "I can do this job. Then I'll take care of this kid, and he doesn't have to participate in the selection anymore, right?"

Joe Ga nodded and said, "Up to you. He's your man after all, and the salary is also from you. Whatever you want him to do, you don't need to tell me; I'll take your word for it."

Upon hearing this, Old Bull nodded seriously and said, "Done, boss. You are a straightforward person. I accept this job and guarantee there won't be any slip-ups.

Let the kid rest later on, and I'll continue to participate. I've been holding back for so many years; I have to show off to let you know that your money is well spent."

All this while Joe Ga ran at a constant pace, but then he realized that Old Bull seemed to have boundless stamina as if he no longer had the spirit to talk. He patted Old Bull's arm vigorously and said, "We are our own people, you just hang in there and don't embarrass us."

After that, Joe Ga slowed down and comfortably jogged towards the direction of the training camp.

After Joe Ga left, Sanderson approached Old Bull proactively, a bit worried, and said, "What did you guys just talk about? I think Tony can't hold on anymore. You should persuade him to give up, otherwise, he might collapse physically."

Old Bull looked disdainfully at Sanderson, who always thought of giving up, shaking his head and saying, "You Americans are always so melodramatic. Plans are dead, but people are alive. If there's a way, go up; if not, create one and still go up.

I just finished talking with the new boss. I'm responsible for the camp's food, and Tony, this kid, has some strength. He will be following me from now on.

With me leading him, Tony could become skilled in just two or three years."

Saying this, Old Bull looked at Sanderson, who was limping, and said disdainfully, "Give it three months, and I bet Tony can outrun you.

I think you Rangers are not up to par. Is it just the magazines and movies that sing your praises?"

Sanderson patted his badly injured leg, grunted, didn't argue with Old Bull, but seriously bumped fists with him and said, "Thanks! You've helped me a lot!"

After Sanderson finished speaking, 'Hemostat' who had been standing nearby came over, pinched Tony's butt, and made the kid cry out in pain to prevent him from fainting from exhaustion.

Then this fiery woman bumped Old Bull with her shoulder and said, "'Iron Shovel', can you cook Peruvian food?"

Old Bull paused, waved his hand grandly and said, "What good food could Peru possibly have? Don't think I'm ignorant. I've participated in international exchanges during my time in the service."

You foreigners come to our canteen, walking in and having to lean on the walls as you leave.

Looking at you, you haven't eaten anything good either. When I have some free time, I'll show you what I can do, you'll see my skills."

Saying this, Old Bull glanced at the two large scars on 'Hemostat's' face and regretfully said, "You are loyal, but you're a bit rough around the edges. If you don't eat some good food and broaden your horizons, your life will be dull."

'Hemostat' truly didn't know how formidable the Chinese army cooks were, but the Russian behind them was indeed aware.

The big-bearded man who had helped them carry the backpack earlier grinned widely and shouted, "'Iron Shovel', these people don't appreciate it, but we know the prowess of army cooks.

We are also loyal; make sure you don't forget us when you're 'cooking special dishes'."

Big Beard's use of the term 'cooking special dishes' was in Mandarin. Old Bull paused, then gave the guy a thumbs up before loudly saying, "No problem, you loyal Russian, I definitely won't leave you out of any good things."

Old Bull inherently possessed the aura of a warrior, and having spent a lot of time in the grassroots units, he was extremely familiar with the interpersonal modes within the military. He quickly started joking and chatting with a bunch of tough guys and figured out some of their backgrounds in a laughter-filled conversation.

......

Joe Ga didn't interfere with Old Bull's mingling; he just observed carefully.

Although Eric hadn't disclosed the selection criteria to Joe Ga, he was starting to get a rough idea.

Although the individuals varied in age, their mercenary habits weren't deeply ingrained; most were either new to the field or had shallow experience in it.

Apart from Tony, the others came from either small-country special forces or somewhat renowned regular forces from other countries.

They might not rank among the elite of the elite globally, but in Africa, they were definitely capable fighters.

Most interestingly, Joe Ga noticed that aside from a few from Eastern European special forces, most had experience with jungle training, and some even served in units near jungles.

Like those three Sri Lankans with a strong murderous aura, and a few Latin Americans.

Apart from the one-eyed Frenchman and Sanderson, there were no soldiers from England, France, America, or Russia among the remaining people.

This background selection was very interesting: small countries, elite skills, eager for high salaries, and not minding exchanging their lives for money. Eric's network sifted through and saved Joe Ga a lot of trouble.

A 2-kilometer slow run restored some people's energy.

The training camp instructors didn't give everyone a break, pushing all to start preparing as they entered the 400-meter obstacle training course.

The 400-meter obstacle at the diving training camp consisted of hurdling stakes, trenches, low walls, high jumping platforms, ladders, log bridges, high walls, and low pile nets—a 400-meter round trip.

It seemed easy, but Joe Ga almost got stuck.

A 2-minute 10-second standard was pretty low, but after a 50-kilogram load-bearing cross-country run and a 20-kilogram load-bearing slow run, few still had the strength and burst to complete the 400-meter obstacle course.

It was only because the mischievous instructors didn't water the trenches or craters or disturb him with water jets when Joe Ga was running. Otherwise, Joe Ga, dressed in a tactical vest and carrying a rifle, wouldn't have been able to pass smoothly.

Those who had persevered to this point were already considered skilled, but still, eight were eliminated.

The Frenchman was eliminated in this stage; he failed to react in time to the water jets coming from the left due to his blindness in his left eye and twisted his ankle from the impact, stopping in front of the high wall

The woman who he had dragged to reach the endpoint of the load-bearing race saw the Frenchman eliminated and chose to give up. Cheerfully, the two collected $1000 and left the training camp.

With just two stages, twenty people had been eliminated, forcing Joe Ga to lower the difficulty of the final shooting phase, otherwise the selection on the following days might not even gather forty participants.

The originally planned 15-meter pistol targets and 150-meter rifle targets were changed to 10 meters and 100 meters, respectively.

With ten pistol rounds and twenty rifle rounds, instead of requiring a score, now hitting 60% of the targets would be considered passing.