Chapter 3: 3 Big Business

As soon as Joe Ga heard the other party reporting his nickname right off the bat, yet failing to mention his own identity, he furrowed his brows and hung up the phone.

No sooner had he hung up than the other party called again.

This time, the person speaking was a bit more polite, saying, "Don't hang up the phone this time, Boss Huang referred me to you. He mentioned you've got some good stuff over there."

The moment Joe Ga heard that, he realized that the person on the other end of the line was probably a second-generation African investor with some money, looking to swing a few guns in lawless Africa.

This was quite common. Generally, in Africa, where it was legal to hold a gun, it was very common for Chinese to buy and play with guns.

Unfortunately, it was a bit troublesome to get a gun permit here in Sudan, although South Sudan didn't care much. Unfortunately, arms trade with them was banned by the UN, and while there were plenty of guns there, they were so old that they were practically unusable.

Moreover, security services were a major source of income for the Sudanese military. Unfortunately, those guards who took money to handle affairs were not very reliable, so Joe Ga's business had always been doing quite well.

Those domestic and foreign mine bosses or daring tycoons investing in factories usually bought guns to play around with at the construction site, and occasionally went out to shoot animals for fun. As long as they weren't hunting endangered species, nobody would bother them.

If it were within the country or any other place with sound legal systems, anyone who recklessly made a call to buy guns would be immediately blocked by Joe Ga, and he would decisively change his number.

But in Africa, Joe Ga was not really worried.

The person on the other end was speaking Chinese. After all, the domestic police couldn't possibly come to Africa to trouble him.

And since he had directly reported the name of an old client, the matter could be easily verified and proved to be true.

With the phone in hand, he remained silent for half a minute until the person on the other line became somewhat anxious. Then Joe Ga finally spoke, "Hold on a moment."

After saying this, Joe Ga hung up the phone, then sent a message to "Boss Huang."

A few minutes later, a message came back confirming the caller's reliable identity.

Once confirmed, Joe Ga stepped into his now cool house, poured himself a large glass of ice water, rested for a few minutes, and then called the other person back.

The person on the line, excited upon receiving Joe Ga's call, said, "Hu Lang, no, Wolf Bro, I heard from Boss Huang that I can buy guns from you. My family has a gold mine in South Sudan, and they've sent me to check on the mine. The security situation there is really bad, I need to buy some guns for protection."

Hearing what was said on the other end, Joe Ga nodded slightly and responded, "Just to make it clear up front, my guns aren't cheap, and I take no responsibility if something goes wrong."

"No problem, I know the rules. As long as the stuff is good, money is not an issue, and any trouble will be my own.

After all, we're compatriots. We don't cheat our own people!"

Listening to the humor from the other side, Joe Ga shook his head and chuckled, "Going to that cursed place, South Sudan, it's right to carry a gun for protection.

There's nothing about cheating or not cheating, if something really happens, Sudanese militia and police probably won't care where your gun came from.

So, what kind of gun do you want?"

"What guns do you have?"

"What do you want?"

Joe Ga's tone made the person on the other end pause, and then he provocatively said, "Do you have an M4? How about an M110A1 sniper rifle? If not, even an AR-15 will do."

Joe Ga laughed at the response; the guy on the other end just straight up asked for the rifles currently in service with the United States Army—quite bold indeed.

He could indeed make them, and even craft better quality than the big factories, but such distinctive weapons, clearly different from the local arms, were too attention-grabbing, and many bosses dared not use them openly.

How good Soviet-made weapons are. An AKM could be taken anywhere without attracting undue attention, and anyone could use the AK74.

However, based on Joe Ga's experience over the past few years, American-style rifles are the most profitable. Getting an AR-15, many would treat it like a treasure; with various accessories roughly assembled, including about a thousand bullets, he could quote thirty to fifty thousand US dollars, and they wouldn't even bargain.

Considering the purchasing power of the young master on the other end, he smiled and said, "Would you like something even better, like the FN-SCAR or HK-417? Any model you want, just that the price is quite high."

No sooner had Joe Ga finished speaking than the guy on the other end exclaimed in surprise, "Are you joking? I couldn't even buy a semi-automatic SCAR-PDW in the United States."

Joe Ga indifferently said, "Whether you believe me or not, I don't care. If you want it, just bring 50,000 US dollars in cash, and I can let you test the gun."

Upon hearing this, the person on the phone paused for a moment, then said, "Let's give it a try, but Brother Wolf, it's not just about one gun. Could you take responsibility for delivering the gun to South SD for me?

I really can't bring it with me when I travel by plane from Kamu."

Upon hearing this, Joe Ga frowned and said, "Delivery will cost extra. At this time of the year, the transport routes from Kamu to South SD are completely blocked. The only way to get there is by renting a small plane, and it's not cheap."

"Can you still rent planes?"

The transportation between SD and South SD is only passable during the dry season.

In fact, in the central part of Africa, only Uganda has developed transportation with regular road travel to South SD, while the transport conditions in surrounding areas, including Ethiopia to the east and Central Africa to the west, are terrible, making South SD look like an isolated island.

To get to South SD, one must either fly directly from Kamu or first fly to Uganda and then drive there.

Driving isn't impossible, but one has to wait until the dry season and be familiar with the local terrain, which allows one to drive directly across the savannah. Who would bother if there are planes available?

Hearing the layman's talk on the other end, Joe Ga said with a laugh, "You could consult someone about this. There's a small town south of SD called Ad-Damazin, where you can rent private small aircraft to fly directly into South SD.

As long as your mine has basic road access, the plane can land directly there."

After listening to Joe Ga's explanation and wrestling with the decision for a few minutes, the person on the other end said, "Let's first take a look at the goods. Brother Wolf, where shall we meet? Should we find a convenient location for testing the guns?"

Joe Ga glanced at the time and nodded, saying, "Let's make it 4 p.m. Drive along the west highway from Kamu, and I'll be waiting for you on the road."

After finishing, Joe Ga wasn't in the mood for further small talk; he hung up the phone and walked into the basement of the house, which served as his storage and workshop.

In the 40-square-meter basement, at the center was a large original wood table, 4 meters long and 2 meters wide, covered with various Russian and American light weapons.

Joe Ga considered for a moment and picked up a few gun bags, packed an FN-SCAR, an AK74, and an AK47. Finally, he boxed up two M1911 pistols and ten boxes of bullets of various types.

After finishing, Joe Ga sat at a workbench at the front, and began to adjust and assemble his own gun. Searᴄh the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.