King Of War: Starting with Arms Dealer

Chapter 145 What Talents!!

Joe Ga saw everything Africa and the others did, and although he didn't understand the relationship among them, he definitely felt the camaraderie.

Such scenes, which one would expect only in movies, seemed very silly in reality, but they were also incredibly touching.

At that moment, Joe Ga began to realize that perhaps it was only silly sincerity that was touching and that only equally silly people could empathize with each other and then become close friends.

Then, most of those who couldn't do it themselves but aspired to it inwardly would exclaim how moved they were.

And then there were those who couldn't do it themselves and didn't want others to manage it either; they would verbally attack those who did, as if they were afraid that this "silliness" would contaminate their spiritual world and hinder them from broadcasting their own spirit.

Joe Ga had never expected to encounter such a scene during the mercenary selection process.

What surprised him even more was that, as Sanderson shouted the slogan, someone actually turned around and ran back, catching the comrade they had just abandoned with a towing rope.

As they passed by Sanderson, that guy shouted the GIGN (France's National Gendarmerie Intervention Group) slogane "Servitas Vitae~" and winked at 'Hemostatic Forceps'.

If the guy hadn't been French, if the 'comrade' he saved hadn't been one of the female soldiers, if Joe Ga hadn't been sure no one from the GIGN would be participating in a mercenary selection, if he hadn't kept trying to shove his hand towards that girl's butt, he might have actually been moved by that French bastard.

As he watched the Frenchman drag the girl past him, not forgetting to make faces at him, Joe Ga cursed with a laugh and then started to push hard.

Already a dozen people had fallen behind; he figured he should make an effort to get that annoying Frenchman eliminated—he was too damn irritating.

Unfortunately, Joe Ga overestimated his physical endurance and underestimated the power of hormones.

The girl who was being dragged along actually gritted her teeth and endured to the last stage, finishing the sprint with the Frenchman and then kissing him passionately, which drew a chorus of hisses from the instructors.

As Joe Ga saw the annoying Frenchman cross the finish line, a bit of his pent-up frustration deflated, and faced with the finish line 100 meters away, he subconsciously slowed his pace.

But it didn't take long for Joe Ga to hear heavy breathing from behind, and then he felt someone bump into his left arm.

Carrying a 50 kilogram load on his back, being bumped while exhausted caused Joe Ga to lose balance almost instantly, nearly causing him to fall to the ground.

Struggling to steady himself, Joe Ga watched Africa, who looked like a moving tent, dragging a tall and hefty young man and saying "Sorry" over his shoulder with a strong accent without turning back.

Joe Ga shook his head with a wry smile and then marshaled his remaining strength to pick up the pace.

He guessed Africa did it on purpose, but surprisingly, he was not put off by it.

Eagerly catching up with the group of four, Joe Ga grinned, intending to jokingly threaten them, when he unfortunately controlled his breath poorly and got a stitch.

Instinctively reaching forward to steady himself, he accidentally caused Tony, who was already at the end of his strength, to howl with pain. Stumbling forward with flailing arms for a few steps, his legs gave out, and he ended up pushing all three comrades who were hauling him over the finish line.

Watching Africa, who had been up to mischief, get squashed like a dead toad kicking its legs in the air, Joe Ga passed the finish line clutching his side in pain, then slowly walked to ease the discomfort while saying to Karman who had stayed by his side the whole time, "I like that guy."

As he said this, Joe Ga looked at the Frenchman who hadn't forgotten to flirt during the training and said annoyed, "I don't like this guy."

Karman showed a rare smile and said, "That Frenchman is quite capable, but I bet he won't make it to the end."

"Why?"

"Because his left eye is fake; with such a handicap, his vision is compromised, which could be dangerous in the jungle."

With that, Karman glanced at Sanderson and added, "This guy's not bad, he has a leg injury, but it only became apparent halfway through the run.

He's very determined, definitely a good hand!"

Upon hearing this, Joe Ga took a closer look at Sanderson as he was getting up from the ground.

The guy had an irreverent aura about him that made him seem nonchalant, as if he didn't care about anything. But if Karman said he was good, then he really must be.

Joe Ga tried hard to find some merit in him—well, he looked okay, not quite as good as himself, but he had a bit of that movie cowboy vibe.

However, Joe Ga's attention wasn't on Sanderson. Pointing at Africa, who was now sitting on the ground cursing at the farm boy's head, he asked, "What do you think about this guy?"

Karman glanced at Africa, then said with a frown, "What's there to hesitate about? This guy carried an 80-kilogram load, dragging a 1.9-meter-tall kid for two kilometers. As long as he knows how to pull a trigger, keep him."

Joe Ga nodded, smiling, "That's what I thought too. This guy has a thick neck and a big head, according to where I come from, that either means you're a driver or a cook.

If he turns out to be a legendary mess officer, it'll save me a whole lot of trouble."

Karman didn't understand the prowess of a "cook," and he frowned as he said, "What you need are elite fighters, being able to cook won't scare drug traffickers."

Joe Ga shook his head noncommittally and said, "Let's just take a look anyway."

With difficulty, Joe Ga straightened up and turned to Dorian, who had come over, and asked, "Elephant, how did you do?"

Dorian's expression was as if he'd eaten shit. He glanced in the direction of the three South Asians and then said helplessly, "Fourth place, those three South Asians are really strong.

The Sri Lanka Reconnaissance Assault Team, fuck, I've never even heard of that country."

As he spoke, Dorian flipped off the group of instructors, who were his cousins, and gestured with his eyes towards the three big-bearded men standing on the edge of the field. He whispered, "Those three guys are also pretty tough. I just went over to say hello; they're retired soldiers from the Albanian BOS Special Forces, and they've only just retired."

Joe Ga really had never heard of this so-called 'BOS Special Forces', but he knew that any special forces with a code name had to be good at something. Moreover, he had confirmed what Dorian had told him earlier simply through the running test.

Soldiers from special forces were definitely elite in both physique and willpower.

The differences between them were mainly reflected in their equipment, training disparities, educational levels, and most importantly, actual combat experience.

The most renowned special forces in the world are currently the SAS and SEALs, not because their personnel quality is actually top of the world, but because they are constantly engaged in real combat, constantly testing and correcting themselves, and their equipment and logistics are continuously updated.

Even among special forces, selected from tens of thousands, if their training level is not up to par, their equipment outdated, and combat opportunities scarce, their fighting power will be significantly discounted no matter what.

A total of 52 people passed the first test. Just a weighted run eliminated 12 people.

According to Dorian's statement, only about a dozen of those present had backgrounds in small country special forces; the others could only be considered elite soldiers. Joe Ga couldn't help but raise his estimate of the capabilities of the major special forces by several notches.

In terms of physical strength, at least, Joe Ga admitted he was no match!

After resting in place for about five minutes, Joe Ga watched as the others gradually caught up. He said to Karman, "Have them leave behind the weapons and equipment borrowed from the training camp. The rest can be a gift for them. Give them travel expenses and let them go home."

As he spoke, Joe Ga nodded to the training camp's instructors to indicate that the second stage could begin.

Instructor Vito seemed to have won a bet earlier. He came out with a smile on his face and called out loudly, "Put the backpacks in the vehicles, and jog back to the camp.

There's a 400-meter obstacle course waiting for you there, 2 minutes and 10 seconds is considered passing. Anyone who doesn't meet that is eliminated."

Upon hearing the instructor's words, two individuals who had just finished the weighted run and were barely holding together seemed unable to sustain it.

When they heard they had to run nearly 2 kilometers back to camp wearing close to 20 kilograms in their Tactical Vests, and then participate in a 400-meter obstacle course, followed by another shooting test, they voluntarily raised their hands and gave up.

No one thought the conditions set by Joe Ga were harsh. If you want to earn big money, you have to have the strength to match it. Not being able to endure isn't shameful, but blaming a generous boss would be.

Being prepared to make a living with a gun, they certainly knew how much their military uniform vests and other items were worth.

Being eliminated with 4000 worth of gear and 1000 in travel expenses, he was definitely a conscientious boss!

With just the 20-kilogram vest left after removing the backpack, Joe Ga felt much better, and the return trip started to feel easier as it was downhill.

Truth be told, a 2-minute and 10-second 400-meter obstacle course was just entry-level requirements. It didn't include movie-style obstacles like rope ladders, high walls, or A-frame log ladders, but a regular obstacle course that every basic level unit had, testing the standard proficiency of tactical movements. Anyone who had been a soldier could easily complete it.

Those who remained were elites. As long as they relaxed their bodies during the jog, passing was definitely no problem.

Joe Ga took a sip of water and followed the main group as they started the return journey. Seeing Tony, who was running painfully empty-handed up ahead, he was curious and went over to take a look at the two Tactical Vests on the old bull's body and said in Mandarin, "What are you trying to achieve with this? You think you're helping him, but you might actually be harming him."

The old bull glanced at Joe Ga and said, "I just like the honest look of this kid. He's had no training, but he's willing to risk his life for his sick mother. How could I not help?"

As he spoke, the old bull gave Tony a hard slap on the back, urging the young man to pick up the pace, then while jogging slowly, he said to Joe Ga, "It's fate. Who made me run into him on the road, and who made us hit it off?

Boss, this kid's a bit dull. He couldn't find a job back home, so he wanted to earn some money for his mother's medical treatment.

When it comes to fighting with a gun, he's definitely cannon fodder, but he has the physique for handling logistics or whatever, and raw talent can be trained, right?"

Having heard this, Joe Ga shook his head and said, "I pay for people to fight, not to fly to Africa and take advantage of me."

Upon hearing this, the old bull quickly said, "'Potato' isn't asking much, two thousand a month will do. I'm a professional cook, I might not be able to protect him in battle, but I always need a helper with digging stoves and cooking.

Seeing Joe Ga's surprised face, the old bull smacked his lips and said, "We're all soldiers here, we can't skip meals even when going into battle, right?

Boss, if it really won't do, I'll take 500 less. 'Potato's' two thousand really can't go any lower.

American rehab therapy is fucking expensive!"