Chapter 2011: Chapter 1834: Staged Accident? Gold. Silver. In the system. Can be pledged to issue Asia Dollar, therefore, as long as it’s a high-quality silver mine, once discovered, it will be fully mined, while other precious metals, unless needed, will not be hoarded excessively. Below. The estimated value of the silver mine reserves is around three billion Asia Dollar. Not much. But as long as it has enough mining value, it won’t be missed. What is enough? That’s over five billion; below this number, let’s let it stay underground and not disturb it. "Go!" Turn around. Get in the car. Leave the valley along the rugged road, heading south again. ... Ke Mu Town. West Street. "Bang!" A gunshot attracts people’s attention, then they take a glance and slowly walk away. The years of warfare have made weapons here not quite rampant, but almost. Therefore. Street fighting. Little things. As long as nobody goes crazy enough to shoot wildly, that’s fine. If that happens, probably won’t live long; when provoked, out of nowhere a burst of peanuts might end him. Overall. Still not to the point where everyone is in danger. Today. Everyone’s used to it. On the street. A pickup truck drives by. Passenger seat. "I really don’t want to be here." Looking outside the car window, Zhao Qiao is helpless. Running a store in Africa requires courage; a slight mistake might see you following your forefathers. In Sudan. Many Chinese. Tens of thousands. Mainly distributed in big cities, daring and adventurous Chinese also spread through small towns, as long as they can make money. Zhao Qiao’s father is one of them, running a hardware store here. And he. Is here to check in, staying for a week and leaving. Driver seat. Father smiled calmly: "Don’t wander around, just stay in the store." "Okay." Indifferent to Zhao Qiao. Came here. Mainly to see parents and celebrate the Chinese New Year but only closed for New Year’s Eve and the first grade, and opened today; he and father went to pick up goods from a shipping point, business is good. The whole year around. Made nearly hundreds of thousands RMB. Otherwise. Why come to this chaotic place to do business? As one of the world’s least developed countries, even food can’t be self-sufficient, let alone others. Fortunately, there’s oil supporting. Otherwise. Surely poorer. Back in 2005, long-lasting civil war ended; territories lacked materials, infrastructure greatly damaged, post-war reconstruction made his father’s shop earn some money. Not long later. "Squeak!" Pickup truck stops at the store entrance. Get off. Look ahead. A row of shops. Most opened by foreign merchants—Indian, Arab—even prosperous Europe has merchants here; after all, even developed countries have those unafraid of danger. Here. They are all foreigners. Therefore. Relations are good, casually gathering. Zhao Qiao heard from father that a few years ago, this place was ruins and then, together with others, spent very little money to buy decent land. Then. Built structures. In a few years, this became a big market. Their family bought nearly three hundred square meters, divided into two parts, the front as the store, the back residential, avoiding early, night travel risks. Robbery. There’s commonplace. Unloaded goods. Stocked items. Took an hour to fix. "Boom!" Above. Thunder rumbles. "It’s going to rain." Zhao Qiao looks up. Thunderstorm. Came down the day before yesterday, now again today. "Looks like there won’t be much business today; let’s close." Father looked at the sky, said, seeing such large clouds, figured to rain till dark, might as well close early. "Sure." Zhao Qiao steps up, just about to close. Suddenly. A burly arm slams the door open again. "What’s up?" Seeing the newcomers, Zhao Qiao’s heart skipped —two big black figures, tattooed, wearing jackets, bulging waist, gun grip silhouette—that made Zhao Qiao’s calves tremble. He’s only a small clerk, not much of such experience. "Is the boss here?" "Yes." "What do you want?" Zhao Qiao’s father comes forward, quite calm, having lived here so long, possessing such courage; protected by underworld forces, ordinary robbers wouldn’t dare rob stores. Except. Outsiders, hit-and-run. However. Such scenarios rarely happen; local force’s power is formidable, these random culprits mostly face dead ends, hence as long as rational thinking prevails. Don’t worry... "We want to borrow some money." Big black smiles showing white teeth. "..." Instantly. Zhao Qiao’s father is bewildered. Damn. A robbery. It’s really a robbery, indeed can’t be too rational; sometimes need a sentimental touch. The person spoke, lifted his jacket, very obvious meaning: If non-compliant, actions might be taken. "Father." Zhao Qiao swallowed. Sudan. The official language is English, he understood. Borrow money. Robbery. Seems no difference, in consumerist modern times, even in civilized society, often the two terms are interchangeable; during Chinese New Year, so exciting? "I... We aren’t familiar." "Then this... familiar, right?" Big black lifts clothes again. "..." Indeed. It’s a real robbery. "How... how much?" "Ten thousand." "Sudanese pound?" "Dollar." "Impossible." Zhao Qiao’s father shakes head, ten thousand Sudanese pound can be accepted; ten thousand dollars, truly think he runs a bank, luck sure hits today, close door, met a robber. "Really?" Big black sneers. Saying. Pistol drawn from waist amidst shocked looks from Zhao Qiao and father, against his own calf came a shot of peanuts, ’bang!’ leaving just cries at scene. "Ah!" Instantly. Piercing pain from leg. "..." Behind. Companion is stunned. What’s going on? You weren’t threatening was you? Without saying a word, shot self, what’s this? Could it be misfire? Hmm, should be, earlier drawing pistol directed down. Suddenly. He feels a chill somewhere. Gee whiz. Just now pistol tucking at waist, direction was... if misfire upon touching, that scene... couldn’t dare think further, too scary, now run or... run. In a blink. Disappeared from the shop entrance. If not now. Won’t leave. "..." At the entrance. Zhao Qiao father and son are dumbfounded. Con artist? Or proving you’re ruthless to self? Luckily, store has surveillance, can prove, this was accident, gunfire’s noise definitely attracts people. It’s not like other places. Someone protects. However. Urgent need is to escape danger; Zhao Qiao’s father smartly, during the man’s wailing, both hands grips door, forcefully shuts, squatting the big black flies out. After falling. Desperate, big black knows he’s doomed, wanting to pull someone along, raises gun to shoot, suddenly arm sore, lowers muzzle, ’bang!’ hits the other foot. "Ah!!!"