Chapter 82

Asamoah strolled out of the city hall with a joyful expression on his face. He felt like he was blessed by God today.

There was news from the Ministry of Energy indicating that he might soon assume a leadership position, and this news had put a spring in his step.

Unbeknownst to him, a window on the second floor slightly cracked open, revealing a pair of eyes fixated on him. The voice behind the curtains muttered, "You think you've got this in the bag and want me to back down? Screw you!"

With those words, the curtain was drawn closed.

Asamoah, blissfully unaware of this hidden observer, continued on his way. He didn't own a fancy car like most of the city's inhabitants. Instead, he drove a second-hand Volkswagen van, purchased from a German businessman for $170. In a city with very few car owners, especially among the locals, he stood out with his modest vehicle.

As he approached his van, he heard the sound of a horn honking behind him. Asamoah turned to see an SUV parked behind his van, and a well-dressed white man emerged. He adjusted his suit, approached Asamoah, and asked, "Mr. Asamoah?"

"That's me. Who are you?" Asamoah inquired.

"I'm here to give you a gift." The white man produced a small gift box from his pocket and handed it to Asamoah with both hands. Asamoah, somewhat puzzled, accepted the gift. However, before he could ask any questions, the white man simply turned and left.

Perplexed, Asamoah cautiously opened the gift box. Inside, he found a diamond the size of a pinky finger. Astounded, he quickly closed the box, looked around, and decided to open it again. Though the diamond was sizable, Asamoah had a 17-carat diamond stored in an overseas bank, so he considered this new gift somewhat modest. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but wonder who had given him this unexpected present.

Could it be the French? They tended to use money to get what they wanted, and this secretive approach seemed unusual for them. Frowning, Asamoah decided to set the matter aside and continued to gaze at the diamond, musing over its potential worth.

The diamond might not be that significant in his eyes, but he knew all too well how some men would pay extravagant sums to please women. He chuckled to himself, "Because there are always foolish men willing to pay for them. Just like now, there are idiots willing to pay tens of millions for a certificate."

Asamoah was feeling pretty pleased with himself, but he also knew that he couldn't get too complacent. He considered the gift carefully and made a mental note to find out who had sent it.

...

Tang Dao stood in front of a mirror, adjusting his hairstyle. He liked to sweep his bangs to the side, which made him appear somewhat youthful. A quick blow and his bangs naturally fell into place. He grinned and turned to Robert, asking, "How do I look in this outfit?"

"For Somalia, you look pretty good," Robert replied with a nod.

Tang Dao smiled, but then he paused, realizing he was inadvertently comparing himself to the local gangsters. He shot Robert a sharp look, as if challenging his remark. Just then, Jin Dun entered the room.

"Boss, the car is ready," Jin Dun informed him.

"Great," Tang Dao responded. He glanced at Robert, noting the scooter they were about to ride on. It was in poor shape, with a barely recognizable logo. In Somalia, cars were scarce, and even if one had the money, finding a decent vehicle was a challenge. The scooter had been dug up from a market known as the "car graveyard," where some abandoned vehicles from Italian or French colonists were left behind.

Tang Dao couldn't help but grumble, "Damn it! I think we need to buy a batch of cars."

Purchasing cars had never been high on his priority list, but now he realized it was necessary. Sitting on the hard seat of the scooter was quite uncomfortable, and he felt a sudden twinge of pain. He decided to procure a fleet of cars suitable for Somalia's muddy terrain, making transportation more efficient. This would come in handy for picking up and dropping off guests.

"This scooter reminds me of hard times," Tang Dao said, rubbing his thighs and glancing at Robert. He couldn't see any socks in Robert's trousers, confirming that they both dressed modestly. Robert nodded in agreement, understanding Tang Dao's sentiments. The scooter had bullet holes when they purchased it, and they couldn't be certain how the previous owner had met his end.

In Somalia, having bulletproof cars with stable performance and the capability to mount weapons was preferable. Brands like the American Hummer, the British Land Rover, the German Mercedes-Benz G, and the Israeli RAM light armored combat vehicle family were all good choices. However, Tang Dao was aware that these vehicles were relatively expensive.