The cook pointed at the AKM and said, "Get him an AKM produced by Cargill Weapons Company!"
The history of Cargill Company can be traced back to the late 18th century; it is a well-established Romanian weapons manufacturer with guaranteed quality.
The cook was an expert, and there was certainly a reason he specified this gun.
"Alright..." Harvey's face darkened; he turned around, pulled out an AKM from the box, placed it on the counter, and said with a tone of thwarted trickery, "400 US dollars each, no credit, cash transaction!"
Unexpectedly, the cook began to curse loudly, "Last month when we came here, this gun was only 350 US dollars, how come the price went up?! Harvey, you profiteer!"
Harvey spread his hands, his expression saying you can't do anything about it, "Last month was last month, this month is this month. Look at how many people like you are coming to Illiguo to strike it rich? If you don't buy it, I won't force you, but the price will go up again in half a month."
"Let me check out the gun first."
Although Song Heping was reluctant to spend the money, the key issue now wasn't money, it was the quality of the gun.
If the gun is good, an extra 50 US dollars is worth it!
If the gun is bad, even a 50 US dollar discount wouldn't be worth it.
Just like the AK-47 for 100 US dollars just now, who knows which small workshop handcrafted it; firing it, you wouldn't know when it might explode, or when it might misfire if held in your hands. Even if given for free, it wasn't wanted.
Anyone in the military knows how crucial a gun is; once on the battlefield, a gun is your life.
Holding the AKM, Song Heping first unfolded the folding stock, shouldered it to feel how it handled.
Not bad, similar to the 81-1 he had used before, just more compact.
Then, he inspected the gun's body and started to dismantle it with a flurry.
Before long, the gun was completely disassembled.
Harvey's face turned green and he said, "Kid! You haven't paid yet!"
Song Heping didn't even look at him, continuing to inspect the parts and said, "How can I pay without inspecting the goods?"
The cook couldn't help but crack a smile on the side.
Song Heping spoke little, but he was absolutely clever and indeed suited his taste.
After inspecting everything from the firing mechanism, firing pin, barrel rifling, to the sights and accessories, Song Heping decided to take the gun.
The AKMs produced by Cargill Company, in terms of quality, are comparable to the original Soviet-made AKMs.
After buying the gun, it was time to purchase bullets.
Bullets also required some consideration; there were those from large factories and those from workshops.
Song Heping chose 7.62 caliber bullets from a large factory in Eastern Europe, purchasing two lots and spending several hundred US dollars.
The cook could not help but continue cursing.
Because last month, when he bought them, they were a third cheaper.
After all that fuss, Song Heping bought a complete individual combat kit, but his pockets quickly deflated, reduced by more than two thousand eight hundred US dollars.
He was broke again.
He wondered whether the cook's team included meals; if not, he might have to go hungry for the next few days.
Upon leaving the gun store, the group got in the car and headed to Task Center No. 2.
Task Center No. 2 was located in a military zone and was owned by Blackwater International.
Unlike the official employees of Blackwater International, small teams like the cook's generally picked up their tasks at the task center.
It functioned as a task posting center where every day, some tasks that companies were too busy to handle were posted here.
Big companies like Blackwater International undertook mostly cushy jobs, like training Illiguo's Civil Defense Force (ICDC) or assisting Langley (CIA) in tracking some high-ranking officials from the former Sadam government, or even letting Langley outsource some dirty work of interrogation to them.
The rewards for these tasks were quite high; after all, a large portion of the 87 billion yuan reconstruction project funds was allocated to Illiguo Temporary Management Committee for the rebuilding of security forces. This kind of safe and lucrative work was not something Blackwater International would let go of.
The more dangerous tasks were mostly subcontracted to private teams like the cook's.
By nine in the morning, Task Center No. 2 was already bustling with people.
Following the cook into the hall, Song Heping could feel a unique atmosphere in the air.
It felt very familiar...
That smell...
It was the raw, survival-of-the-fittest scent of the wild, akin to walking into a pack of wolves.
In the world of wolves, the strong reign supreme.
Song Heping could feel that oppressive sensation.
Everyone here was not young, rarely as young as himself; most were over thirty, unkempt, with beards and eagle-like eyes.
They were quietly discussing some very unique topics: about remuneration, post-mortem compensation amounts, what exactly today's tasks might entail, and how much the payments might be.
Song Heping had heard about the mercenary circle before.
High pay, high risk.
The bigger the storm, the more expensive the fish.
During these days in the Green Zone, there were mercenaries being unloaded from helicopters nearly every other day, some still breathing, while others returned as dead as salted fish.
Song Heping had also inquired about the mercenaries' compensation.
It was said to be high, as much as two thousand US dollars a day, although there were lower rates, similar to his current situation, a hundred or even several hundred.
Every industry is a pyramid, the top eats the meat, and those below offer up their bones.
The world is just that cruel and realistic.
The cook ran into an acquaintance.
"Cook, I heard the other day that three of your 'Musician's' guys died, I thought you had gone back to Russia to recover,"
The newcomer was a Big Beard.
Like Thomas, his attire was similar, and his accent carried a thick English flavor, though his tone seemed unfriendly.
Song Heping turned his gaze toward the cook.
The cook's personality was somewhat quirky.
Quiet as a philosopher at times, but when he cursed, he was like a bandit gangster.
A person's drastic personality shift could only be that they were either a genius or a madman.
True to form, the cook was unapologetically blunt, "Lars, you scum haven't died yet, how could I bear to leave this place?"
Song Heping asked Grey Wolf standing beside him, "Who is this guy? Does he have a history with you guys?"
Grey Wolf chuckled softly, "British and our Russians always have disputes. This guy is a captain from Duke Wellington's Regiment, retired three years ago."
Duke Wellington's Regiment?
Song Heping seemed to remember the name.
But he couldn't recall where he had seen it at the moment.
"What?" Lars's gaze moved past the cook, landing on Song Heping nearby, "So that's your newbie? A Chinese? You're recruiting Chinese now? They haven't fought any wars for decades, are you sure he won't piss his pants during a firefight? I didn't know you had a fetish for being a kindergarten teacher!"
If Lars had just had a verbal spar with the cook, Song Heping might have let it go, but now it had become personal, and he couldn't stand it.
Especially from a Brit.
He suddenly remembered something about Duke Wellington's Regiment.
"Whether I piss my pants or not is uncertain, but when your Duke Wellington's Regiment encountered our 20th Army by Cao County at Linjin River, they certainly pissed themselves. Didn't your grandfathers tell you about that? Or is it that your regiment's history museum doesn't dare display such shameful war records?"
Song Heping stared straight at Lars in front of him, not avoiding the other's gaze at all, as if he was charging with a bayonet.
Lars was momentarily stunned.
He felt insulted.
Duke Wellington's Regiment was among the elite in the British Army, though not as renowned as the Special Air Service (SAS) or Special Boat Service (SBS). When it came to history and honor, it was undoubtedly superior.
As the name suggests, the regiment was named after the British War God, Duke Wellington, the notable figure who defeated Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo. This unit had a long history and participated in numerous famous battles, such as the Dunkirk evacuation and the Normandy landings.
In the sequence of the British Army, it was the elite of the elites.
"Boy, be careful with your words!"
Lars suddenly didn't know how to refute Song Heping.
After all, the truth is not afraid of rebuttal.
Song Heping looked at Lars coldly, the look in his eyes told the tall Big Beard in front of him that he simply didn't regard him as important.
"I am always careful with my words."
Song Heping responded calmly.
Just when Lars thought he had intimidated the Chinese in front of him, Song Heping very timely added another line, "But I'm only careful with humans."
No sooner had his words fallen than some mercenaries around burst into sudden laughter.
Lars's face turned beet red.
He thought about attacking, but seeing White Bear Andre standing beside Song Heping and the vigilant cook nearby, he didn't have the courage to act.
These Russians were not to be trifled with; one could attempt to gain an upper hand verbally, but Lars knew better than to engage physically.
"We'll see!"
In the end, he could only spit out a harsh retort and walked away.
"Sadam, I didn't expect you to be such a tough guy!"
Andre laughed, his jaw suddenly not hurting anymore.
"Loli is here!"
Someone in the hall shouted, and everyone rushed over.