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The three border inspectors were familiar with the road and "checked" the two trucks behind, while the young men and women, who were frightened by the gunshots, were still grinding and chirping on the ground to pick up their luggage.

Leave them alone, a bunch of frightened foreigners.

The border inspector who took the lead waved his hand and asked his men to pick up the goshawk and add food.

The place where the goshawk fell was only twenty or thirty meters away, but when the border inspector trotted over and dragged the goshawk back.

The expression on the face of the guy who picked up the goshawk was as strange as if he had picked up a dinosaur.

Brenda, the border inspector who took the lead, just wanted to reprimand a few words, but when he saw the goshawk dragged by his subordinates, he was also stunned.

It's no ordinary goshawk.

Because it was shot in the abdomen, where there was a fist-sized hole, and there was no blood coming out, but black smoke curling and a burnt smell that only a short circuit in an electronic device could have.

Falling from a height of two hundred meters, the force of the impact snapped its wings, revealing the light skeleton of gray metal within.

"This ...... This...... This ......"

Brenda, the border inspector who took the lead, pointed at the goshawk full of strange colors, and his mouth sounded like a transmitter with no channel.

He was terrified, what the hell is this?

Not only the three border inspectors, but also the cartoonists who were packing their bags on the side also witnessed the details of the goshawk's body.

Their minds seemed to fly into the sky with those bullets, and their heads were in chaos.

Did they mess into the world line of the Transformers?

If not, then why do you see a mechanical goshawk only in Transformers on this flat and backward African continent?

This does not correspond to reality at all.

One cartoonist muttered to himself, "It's over, it's over, there won't be Megatron with his men later......"

"What nonsense, the world line is not messed up. Qin Feizhuo, the boss of the studio, reprimanded in a low voice.

As soon as he finished speaking, the roar of an engine could be heard faintly on the wide dirt road leading to the end of Nigaya.

This is the roar of the surging machinery that can only be found in V12 engines with a displacement of more than 5.0 displacement.

Qin Feizhuo, who loves car culture, immediately heard the power components of the car he had never met.

did not disappoint him, and a few seconds later, a black steel figure dragging arrogant dust appeared in the field of vision of everyone at the border checkpoint.

It's a G65 that will make men's blood boil, and it's a long-wheelbase version with six-wheel drive.

Qin Feizhuo subconsciously rubbed his eyes, as far as he knew, even Basbo, a custom brand known as the "first class" in Mercedes-Benz, had only launched a six-wheel drive half-carriage version. The car in front of me, not only has the appearance details changed slightly, but it is still the kind of full carriage, which looks more wild in steel.

I don't know which master it came from.

People at the border checkpoint thought that they had met a European and American tyrant who came to Africa for a self-driving trip.

Three Land Rover Spot-Four followed a little further behind.

The surging engine sound of the G65 drowned out their movements, and by the time they all appeared in people's field of vision, the wide dirt road in the east direction already had the feeling of thousands of horses galloping and smoke billowing out.

The three border inspectors hurriedly ran forward, waving their hands in some flattery.

Obviously, the owners of these luxury cars did not dare to offend easily, so they planned to go through the motions and let these four cars go.

With a violent roar of exhaust pipes, the G65 stopped in front of the three border inspectors.

Before the doors of the G65 could be opened, three other Land Rovers were killed. The members of these cars seemed to be fierce beasts, and before the car could stop steadily, the doors of several cars opened at the same time, and then more than a dozen fierce men wearing walking boots, deep black cargo pants and black short-sleeved vests jumped out of the car.

The three border inspectors sat on the ground almost frightened, these highly uniformly dressed men, whose exposed muscles in the sun were simply stronger than bison.

They wore sunglasses and a tactical girdle wrapped around their waists.

On the waist cover was a dazzling array of magazines, and the three border inspectors were just about to report their homes when they were pointed at their heads by Qing Yishui's SIG556 assault rifles.

On the African continent, where AK is prevalent, the 556 assault rifle, which is a grade higher than the M416, is no less dazzling than the four luxury cars in front of you. There is no doubt that the team of centaurs in front of them is a group of lions on the grassland.

The cartoonists who had just recovered from the AK guns were once again in the midst of a collective petrification.

It's over, looking at this battle, you must have met the legendary African warlord who kills people without blinking.

They didn't dare to move, because the cartoonists saw this group of lavishly equipped macho men, and they all stared at the goshawk in the hand of one of the border inspectors.

That look, I hate to eat people.

The cartoonists noticed the macho men, and they also noticed the cartoonists squatting on the ground.

Two men in sunglasses just wanted to raise the muzzle of their guns, but they were shocked when they met the faces of these cartoonists.

Yellow-skinned and black-eyed, is it a Chinese?

Quickly put down the muzzle, then trotted over to the Mercedes G65 and opened the heavy bulletproof door.

"Report to the general, the outside armament has been disarmed. While the person who opened the door said something, he also snapped into a military posture.

The cartoonists watched the G65 with nervous eyes, waiting for the warlord to get out of the car, and at the same time waiting for the next penalty.

In their opinion, the best fate for a warlord is probably to be arrested and pay a large ransom.

I really just escaped from the tiger's mouth, and I met the wolves again!

It's over, it's over.

A black crocodile leather boot stepped on the pedal of the G65, and with a click, the hearts of the three border inspectors and more than a dozen cartoonists also jumped.

Leather shoes were topped with crisp white trousers and a crisp tuxedo suit with a black bow tie. When the general fully appeared, the cartoonists couldn't help but rub their eyes.

Is this a warlord?

How do you give people a polite and even a bit like a housekeeper?

General Morp had already noticed the cartoonists squatting on the ground, and when he got out of the car, he hurried up to these people and asked in English, "Which country in Asia are you from?"

"Hua... Chinese. The English-speaking few people inside looked up cautiously.

Sure that it was a Chinese, General Mopu trotted back to the Mercedes-Benz G65, and in the eyes of the cartoonists, like a competent housekeeper, he held the door with one hand and helped him in with the other.

A......

A young man about their age was respectfully invited out by the general. Then all the gun-wielding hunks turned their heads and saluted the young man.

The driver's seat and the passenger door also opened automatically, and two Chinese men with cold faces, one left and one right, escorted him in front of him.

Perhaps in the eyes of foreigners, it is difficult for Asians with yellow skin and black hair to distinguish between specific countries. Just like the Chinese look at the Europeans, they are all the same, there is no German, French, Danman, and Sweden.

But!

Chinese people may not be able to look at Japan and South Korea accurately, but when they look at their compatriots, they have a feeling of blood connection.

So as soon as Ye Qing got out of the car, these cartoonists opened their mouths one by one into an O-shape.

This kind of scene is even more shocking than the border inspector dragging a mechanical goshawk back.

Thousands of miles away on the African continent, in the wild grasslands full of gunfire.

A Chinese man who is so young that he can't talk is actually the master of this group of warlords who seem to be amazing?

"Wait~" How did Qin Feizhuo feel that this young man was a little familiar, and where did he seem to have seen his photo?

The fellow saw the fellow with tears in his eyes, let alone under the guns of a group of fierce men. Qin Feizhuo hurriedly mustered up his courage and set up a relationship with this compatriot who might decide their fate, "You...... Are you from Huaxia?"

"Yes!" Ye Qing looked at this group of compatriots in surprise, "You are ......"

Several girls in the cartoonist suddenly burst into tears.

"Woo~"

The voices of several girls were aggrieved, with the surprise of the rest of their lives, "We originally wanted to take the car to Anu Special District, and we have relatives who work in the factory over there. ”

"Who knew that when we got to the border checkpoint, these border inspectors said that we were carrying diamonds. ”

"We ...... We wanted to prove ourselves, and the gang took all our valuables. ”

"Have relatives working in the factory?" Ye Qing was even more surprised, "Is it the factory of Behemoth Industries over there?"

"yes, yes!" the cartoonists nodded in unison.

"Okay, I got it. Ye Qing walked up to them and helped one of the girls up, "Everyone get up first, and I'll handle this matter." ”

After standing up, the cartoonists hugged each other and cried.

They were excited, this young fellow actually had the intention of helping them make the decision.

Ye Qing turned his head to look at Mopu, "General, you can solve this matter." ”

"Okay, Mr. Ye. "General Mup nodded, he had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

In the next second, General Mopu's face changed drastically, the respectful look in his eyes disappeared, and in his place, there was a cold murderous aura.

He stepped forward and looked condescendingly at the three shivering border inspectors, their tone like the cold Siberian wind.

"Who shot down that goshawk?"

"Who stole the luggage of those distinguished guests?"