Chapter 141: Chapter 141: Gathering of Experts

At the pier of Sardinia, many unusual characters emerged early in the morning.It wasn't that their appearances or behaviors were strange, but rather their aura was quite out of place in this locality famous for vacations. Three dark-skinned, lean-bodied South Asians seemed somewhat out of place among the locals as they disembarked from the ferry and stepped onto the pier as soon as it docked. Sёarᴄh the Novelƒire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. The cook named New Manchui from the fast food restaurant yesterday had somehow become chummy with Sanderson and Tony. This guy was an extrovert and, having spent time in the army's cooking squad, he had a particular fondness for young people who were honest and straightforward. In just a matter of hours, the naive Tony had already started calling the older New Manchui 'brother' under his firm grip. Although Tony was a bit dense, he could feel the goodwill New Manchui had for him. Compared to the always exhausted-looking Sanderson, the enthusiastic New Manchui gave Tony a sense of finding a relative. Seeing the three South Asians disembarking first, New Manchui nudged Sanderson with his elbow and then said in broken English, "What do you reckon about those guys, they here for the PMC interviews, too? Boy, they've got a heavy killing aura; which unit do you think they're from?" Sanderson wasn't sure if meeting New Manchui was good or bad luck. They had shared a bus ride from Rome to the pier, and en route, Tony unwittingly spilled the beans about both of them to the enthusiastic New Manchui. Sanderson was a master sergeant in 'Rangers', but during a mission in Aqionghan, due to faulty intelligence, his squad walked into an ambush, got decimated, and out of eight men, only three survived; Tony's father took a bullet to the chest and died on the spot. By the time Sanderson woke up, he found himself in a hospital, and once he realized everything stemmed from a CIA "misunderstanding," he angrily stormed to headquarters where he gouged out the eyes of the stationed CIA agent. Then he was discharged dishonorably, lost his pension, and was left with a significant blemish on his record. Were it not for the help of his superior, he might have spent years behind bars, which had made joining a proper military contracting company problematic. A soldier's duty is to obey orders; nobody wants the guy who goes to his superior and fights with them when there's trouble. Compared to the military, private military companies are more practical and shrewd; in those companies, you won't find situations where an entire team is sacrificed for one person. Tony was Sanderson's protégé; Sanderson always felt somewhat responsible for the death of Tony's father. So when he found out Tony's mother suffered a stroke and was hospitalized after receiving the bad news, he took it upon himself to take care of Tony. However, medical expenses exhausted all of his savings, and the subsequent drought and drop in livestock prices threatened Tony's already debt-ridden farm with foreclosure by the bank. Tony's mother required long-term rehabilitation for her hemiplegic stroke, and the farm needed money to continue operating, so Sanderson showed up and stubbornly brought Tony with him. They thought it was just about getting a job at a PMC, but who would have expected that an interview would take place at a diving training center? 'Rangers' are an elite unit of the American Army Special Forces; Sanderson was one of its most elite recon squad members, and part of those who had gone through Combat Diving Training. He knew what it entailed and was aware that Tony wouldn't make it through. Along the way, Sanderson kept trying to convince Tony to go home, but Tony always refused. And that's when they ran into New Manchui. New Manchui, aged 35, had a bald head and a broad forehead, stood at 1.8 meters tall, and weighed 180 pounds. He spoke like thunder and walked as if bringing a breeze, with bulging muscles on his arms, looking fierce and formidable. He came from a rural background, and upon his discharge, had been assigned to a cafeteria in a township organization, but his explosive temper soon cost him the job, almost landing him in jail. Left with no options, he was forcefully sent by his parents to Italy to seek refuge with his elder sister. He had also been a squad leader in the army and took a liking to country boys like Tony, who were honest and simple. According to him, honest people were lucky and obedient. Dealing with them didn't require much thought. The magnanimous New Manchui had no patience for someone like Sanderson who dampened his own spirits and those of the young people. Leveraging his intermediate English listening skills and subpar speaking ability, he struck up conversations with the duo during the journey, then began to ardently inspire Tony with grand gestures. Although he didn't resolve Tony's issues, New Manchui did give Sanderson some relief because after his arrival, Tony stopped pestering him. Explore more adventures at M-V-L Indeed, enthusiasm is contagious. Having spent 12 years in the cooking squad, New Manchui knew just how to comfort and inspire people, one set of grassroots phrases at a time. And there you had it, within just a few hours Sanderson, who normally had a bleak outlook on life, was noticeably in better spirits. Faced with New Manchui's question, Sanderson watched as most of the fellow passengers disembarked. He glanced at New Manchui and said, "See the last few men there?" New Manchui took a look and said, "Eh, what about them? Just some old Russians, right? What's so special?" Sanderson couldn't help but laugh at New Manchui's comment, shook his head, and replied, "They are from the Belarussian 'Diamond' special forces. "The people ahead of us are from the Albanian 'BOS' Special Forces," Old Manchui's English listening skills were average. After listening, he thought for a while and said, "Damn, those must be some tough guys. What the hell is going on here? Recruiting for a PMC is turning into something like special forces selection. "Let me tell you, if I hadn't had the shits during the selection, I could have made it too." As he spoke, Old Manchui looked at Sanderson, who was a bit confused by his broken English, and with a 'hey', he pulled Tony along as they disembarked. Pointing at the South Asian trio who had walked away, he said, "I was asking about them. Those guys have such a strong aura of murder, yet I've never heard of any notable teams from India. If there were, I would definitely have heard of them." Sanderson followed Old Manchui's steps and after thinking for a bit, said, "I seem to remember the language those people spoke, but I can't recall it now..." Just as Old Manchui was about to look down on Sanderson, a Latina woman with two knife scars on her face said from behind them, "They were speaking Sinhala. They must be from the Sri Lankan Army's Reconnaissance Assault Team." Old Manchui asked instinctively, "How do you know that?" The scarred woman looked Old Manchui up and down, assessing his robust appearance, and replied, "Because I've met someone just like them in Peru." Old Manchui nodded and then turned to Sanderson, wearing a somewhat strange expression, and asked, "Are the Sri Lankan Reconnaissance Assault Teams any good?" Looking at Old Manchui, Sanderson hesitated for a second before saying, "It depends on the place. I've heard they're very good in environments teeming with jungles and waterways, but I don't know the specifics. What I do know is that they've been fighting terrorists all along." As he spoke, Sanderson glanced at the tattoo on the scarred woman's arm and tentatively said, "Peruvian Navy?" The scarred woman nodded and said, "Naval Special Warfare Support Team, medic. You can call me 'Hemostatic Forceps'." Upon hearing this, Sanderson's demeanor immediately became one of respect. Special forces units varied widely in capability due to different levels of training, but any country's special support team was surely the elite of the elite. For instance, America's Pararescue teams were not only able to fight, but also provided battlefield first aid, and when necessary, could haul their injured comrades out under fire—handling such emergencies was all in a day's work... Their training goal was to rescue comrades in crisis, a role that inevitably earned them respect from everyone. Seeing the scarred woman looking at the tattoo on her own arm, Sanderson nodded and said, "Rangers, Assault Soldier. You can call me 'Vanguard'. "The Rangers take the lead. Whew~" Old Manchui was amused by Sanderson's habitual slogan and, touching his bald head, said, "I'm a cook, hmm, my comrades all call me 'Iron Shovel'." As he spoke, Old Manchui didn't forget about Tony. Putting his arm around Tony's shoulder, he said, "This is my little brother; you guys just call him, um, 'Potato'. "He's a bit of a simpleton, but where I come from, the saying goes – the uglier the name, the easier they are to raise." 'Hemostatic Forceps' smiled at this and then, looking at 'Vanguard' Sanderson, said while walking, "Do you have any news? "After I was discharged, I wanted to find a job. I just browsed the mercenary site and left some personal information, then I received an email. After replying, I got a plane ticket. "What's the deal with this P·B Defense Company's boss scheduling the interview at a diving training center? Do you know who 'Albatross' is?" Sanderson had no idea about these things. Shaking his head, he said, "I've just recently left the service too. "Just like you, I registered on the mercenary website and then I got an email. "As for why the interview is at a diving training center, well, I'm not sure. Maybe the boss wants to scare off the pretenders." Old Manchui saw 'Hemostat' glancing at him and, feeling annoyed, shouted, "Hey, where are you looking? Don't you see someone like me is the real talent? With your scared looks, what's there to fear about diving training? At worst, we'll drink a little water. What's the big deal?" Sanderson, watching Old Manchui vigorously patting Tony on the shoulder, practically leading the poor guy astray, could only sigh in resignation and said, "Diving training isn't just about swallowing water; it can actually kill you. "You need to take it easy. Tony's a straightforward kid; he won't back down easily and that makes it really dangerous." Old Manchui heard this, became serious, and nodded earnestly, "You don't understand. No matter where you serve or fight, you can't neglect eating and drinking. I have a unique skill in my hands and I'm not afraid of not finding work. "Tony can just stick with me; the kid has the strength to be a good cook. Being a PMC doesn't necessarily mean having to fight; we can join the fray with pots and pans too." Sanderson didn't know much about Chinese cooks, so seeing Tony nod his head like he was bewitched, all he could do was say helplessly, "No matter what the interview involves, make sure to stay close to me..."