NOVEL WEB Chapter 879: Restrictions
Joe Ga heard he was about to be in trouble. Instead of heading to Monica's luxurious apartment, he called everyone to the New Jersey Farm.
This was the safest place!
Due to some peculiar circumstances recently, the New Jersey Farm had endured at least half of America's terrorist attacks.
Those new-age terrorists recruited through the internet attacked the farm as if chasing KPIs. One day it was Zhang San taking a shot, the next day it was Li Si crashing his car into it. The attacks didn't stop until ISIS had been smashed into oblivion.
But online terrorists just couldn't do this kind of work. Like keyboard warriors facing reality, everything they encountered rendered them incompetent.
They didn't even dare wear explosive vests—what kind of terrorists are those?
Not only did they fail their mission, but they also ended up beaten into pigs by a group of Russian bruisers.
They were then locked up in the barn at the farm, subjected to hardcore methods to cure their 'terrorist internet addiction' and their inflated egos combined with low capabilities.
By the time Homeland Security came to pick them up every two weeks, these people had turned into mild-mannered, model citizens.
Joe Ga's group arrived at the farm close to 10 p.m., only to find a few young men still scrubbing the exterior walls of the farm store and Walmart with a cup and a toothbrush.
The towering 'Bone Crusher,' who stood over two meters tall, was bare-chested in the freezing weather, lounging on a beach chair surrounded by beer and a cloth sack.
To end up in prison, you've got to be a little bit twisted at minimum.
This seasoned inmate didn't beat or berate slackers when he spotted one. Instead, he grabbed his sack, walked over, and ate the lazy guy's breakfast designated for the next morning—right in front of him.
If you wanted to keep slacking off, fine. 'Bone Crusher's' intimidating bulk ensured he'd gladly eat your lunch and dinner too.
Judging by the agonizing cries of the unlucky young man, the New Jersey Farm seemed scarier than Guantanamo.
The convoy paused briefly at the farm gate. Thompson rolled down his window and shouted to 'Bone Crusher,' "Hey, stop messing with them. Go change your clothes and come to the meeting. The boss is back."
'Bone Crusher' rushed over to the car, leaned his head in, and grinned at Joe Ga. "Boss, do we have work?
Lately, dealing with these chicks has become a bore..."
'Bone Crusher's' radiating twisted energy made Steven and Eric instinctively lean backward.
Joe Ga didn't mind 'Bone Crusher's' bizarre vibe. This psycho had a natural talent for dirty work, and what's rare about his methods of handling captives was the warped sense of humor he displayed.
So, Joe Ga waved his hand and chuckled, "If you're so eager to work, then get moving now..."
'Bone Crusher,' the classic steroid-fueled raging brute, was thrilled and grabbed the car window for a vigorous shake. The extended armored Lincoln's door emitted a loud 'crack,' followed by the car itself rocking slightly.
Watching Thompson's disdainful look, 'Bone Crusher' slapped his shiny bald head, backed away, and apologized earnestly, "Sorry, my bad, I'll get right to it..."
Joe Ga couldn't help but laugh at the clownish brute. He turned to Thompson and asked, "How's this guy been lately? Why do I feel he's just a walking disaster?"
Thompson, the weary corporate drone, replied helplessly, "I've got to thank Jack Heinz, his incredible partner, for spotting 'Bone Crusher's' talent for leadership within the prison system.
Without Jack, this guy would spend five days a week at the police station, and the other two days off only because the cops need some rest."
Joe Ga laughed heartily, "I love this guy, but I definitely don't want him as a neighbor."
Thompson seemed to recall something and nodded with a smirk, "That's not necessarily true. Olivia, your handpicked operator, likes this guy. She feels restless if she doesn't beat him up at least once a day.
Boss, Olivia is a character. Ever since she became our customer service rep, complaints have practically vanished."
Joe Ga took pride in his knack for spotting talent; that family was a goldmine...
Mom Olivia had an impressive repertoire of curses and unmatched brawling skills at the top tier of street-fighter moms.
Son Foreman, a teenage boxing prodigy, looked thirty despite being just fifteen.
Uncle Ronnie was even more outstanding—a 'Tracker,' qualified to join Delta selections, capable of holding his own against Joe Ga, Dorian, and Ayu in a one-on-three fight.
Joe Ga could honestly say that if Ayu weren't involved, he and Dorian combined still wouldn't be a match for Ronnie in unarmed combat.
This sort of fortune was absurd—they only cost him $3,000 a month collectively.
Olivia was the only one with a salary; Foreman freeloaded gear and food while occasionally earning pocket money from odd jobs. Ronnie was in an even worse spot, still owing $600,000 in medical fees...
For some reason, thinking of this always perked up Joe Ga's mood...
It wasn't until he entered the meeting room that Joe Ga briefly condemned his inner capitalist instincts.
The C-team was already seated inside. Xiao Luo, beaming his toothy grin, stepped forward and hugged the boss, saying, "Boss, America really is a wonderful place..."
Then, Xiao Luo winked and added, "Boss, I want to chase Estelle, but she keeps rejecting me. Do you think I've got a shot?"
Joe Ga smacked his lips, saying, "Haven't you shown her your paycheck yet?
Trust me, take some lessons from 'Iron Shovel.' If you earn over $100,000 a year and are willing to stake your life, it's rare to fail at winning over a woman.
Look at 'Iron Shovel's' wife Carmen; what's Estelle's ironing board compared to her?"
Xiao Luo stared wide-eyed at his boss and exclaimed, "Falling in love doesn't require betting your life, right..."
Joe Ga cringed and remarked, "How can you succeed in romance just by being a rascal?
If you don't muster the courage to marry her, it's no wonder she looks down on you.
You, a Bolivian farm boy, marrying an American public official—is that really such a loss?"
Xiao Luo gawked at Joe Ga in disbelief and asked, "Boss, are you serious?"
Joe Ga nodded, "Of course. How can P.B. staff let some girl humiliate them? Win her over, for sure. Win her, and I'll give you a vacation.
The resort in Brazil Manaus is nearly finished. Take her there for a break—I'll cover the costs!"
Xiao Luo, touched yet hesitant, checked his wallet and hesitated further, saying, "That's such a big gamble. Maybe I should reconsider; I still want to buy a house for my mom and sister in Sangha Town..."
Joe Ga dismissed the idea, waving a hand, "Why buy a house?
P.B.'s staff should pool their resources and build their own. I'll arrange for a big community, and I'll get some bored old folks to design the houses for you. You guys just pay for the construction, and I'll handle the rest.
America has SEAL communities, so ours can't be any weaker. Our lawns should at least be twice the size of theirs.
You guys work hard, and at year-end, I, the boss, will buy yachts and sports cars..."
Fired up by his boss's enticing promises, Xiao Luo's eyes sparkled as he fervently declared, "Boss, I'll work hard!"
Seeing Xiao Luo caught up in the same trap as once himself, Dorian pushed aside the overly spirited Xiao Luo and sneered, "Work hard. When the boss drives his Ferrari, we can take turns being his chauffeur..."
Xiao Luo froze, then scornfully retorted to the sycophantic Dorian, "Don't mess with me; Ferraris only seat two people. Two men in them look ridiculous!"
The room erupted with laughter. Joe Ga shook his head, smirking, "This is your way of hinting I should hand out benefits, huh...
Fine. Ferrari stocks might be limited, so I'll gift each of you the pride of China—the 'Wuling Hongguang.'
That beast is the real top-tier ride—it conquers plateaus, handles valleys, hauls cargo, ferries people, climbs rough terrains without breaking a sweat; and it's fuel-efficient, eco-friendly, spacious, and practical..."
Without giving Dorian room for argument, Joe Ga walked to the head of the room, glancing at Jack Heinz in the corner, saying, "This one's my own trouble. If you don't want in, no hard feelings."
Jack Heinz paused, then slightly shook his head and replied, "No, I'm rather interested in going after powerful figures.
If there's a follow-up, like taking out Carter or something, I'm game—all by myself, if needed..."
Joe Ga shrugged indifferently, "You'll definitely get your chance later!
I like your current spirit. It's much better now—you agree, right? A person with a 'target' makes life feel different?"
Jack shook his head silently. After extensive experiences and re-education, he no longer bore resentment against the boss.
Comparing the 'Homeland's' actions against him and his team, P.B. seemed downright saintly.
Aside from their intense methods, Jack couldn't think of a single instance where P.B. had acted against their conscience.
Life was calmer here than it ever had been during his SEAL Team 6 days!
Joe Ga noticed Jack's newfound composure and took out his phone, forwarding a file Aaron had sent him to Thompson. "These are the profiles of people planning to attack me. It's not exhaustive since there're certainly locals guiding them here across America..."
Thompson opened his phone, scanned the file briefly, stood up, and said, "I'll head to the office to check. Give me 30 minutes."
As Thompson hesitated at the door, he turned back to his boss and said, "Boss, this time you can't go too big. Without legal backing, making too big of a scene could be hard to manage.
We're at a critical juncture. 'Legitimacy' is key—you at least can't be bringing heavy weapons to Tom Reed Manor."
Joe Ga heard Ayu's dissatisfied snort beside him and chuckled, "Relax. Thermobaric weapons are off, but machine guns are still coming.
There's some old guy in Oregon insisting I be his grandson's dad. He'll have to help clean up my mess, haha..."