King Of War: Starting with Arms Dealer

Joe Ga really liked the Dodge RAM four-wheel-drive pickup truck that Eric had a friend deliver, but of course, he liked what was inside even more…

Besides the Springblade 600, the other vehicle was loaded with a batch of portable precision-guided missiles designed and manufactured by Lexian Corporation called "Spearhead."

Length: 45 cm, diameter: 4 cm, weight: 1.2 kg. It can be launched via a handheld grenade launcher or a specialized backpack system.

The missile range is 2100 meters, with the ability to switch warheads to target both armored and personnel objectives.

This is the kind of upgrade Joe Ga asked Eric to track down after seeing the Talus system's modular missile launcher last night.

The Talus armor-derived weapons weren't all designed and manufactured by Talus Corporation. The so-called portable missiles were modifications based on Lexian Corporation's "Pike" anti-tank missile.

The "Pike" had a length of 63.5 cm, a diameter of 5.7 cm, and a weight of 2.5 kg, with one backpack holding 4 units. Its weight and bulk didn't meet Joe's requirements.

Lexian's new "Spearhead" missile is different, featuring a more advanced intelligent system that allows for direct attack or top-attack modes, and the explosion height and distance can be programmed via computer.

The "Spearhead" equipped launch backpack comes with a data interface, which easily integrates with Talus's Intelligent Assistance System.

This advanced missile, not yet on the market, could only be procured by someone like Eric—a former Pentagon budget advisor with strong connections to departments and corporations thriving on government budgets.

Currently, as president of the Pentagon Brotherhood, Eric could procure nearly anything that wasn't overly outrageous, provided the money was right, and let Joe Ga enjoy it.

As the team departed, Joe Ga chose not to ride in the Cadillac Escalade but instead sat in the back seat of a Dodge RAM, tinkering with a "Spearhead" missile launch backpack.

Joe's hands-on skills were exceptional, though he struggled somewhat with programming software.

The Talus system included a beginner's guide, yet Joe spent quite some effort before successfully connecting the "Spearhead" missile launch backpack to the system.

Once that was sorted, Joe, sitting in the passenger seat, turned around and shoved the 15 kg, six-missile backpack to the back seat. He then looked at Ayu and smiled, saying, "King Kong, you're the only one here who has used both powered exoskeletons and flexible exoskeletons. Which do you think suits you better?"

Ayu flattened the missile backpack, stretched his arms, and replied, "Boss, both are excellent.

The previous one let me carry more equipment but limited the range of movement, making some actions impossible.

This new type is more flexible. I can't pinpoint all the advantages, but I can feel it's kinder on my knees."

Joe nodded with a smile and said, "Exactly. I've always felt it was overkill for you to carry a 1200-round Scorpion Backpack every time you went out. Actually, a backpack with 600 rounds of 7.62mm or 800 rounds of 5.56mm ammo should be enough."

Ayu chuckled warmly and said, "Boss, Karman says having firepower ensures your safety.

The old backpack was fine. It wasn't really that heavy. Even without the older exoskeleton, I can still carry one of these missile backpacks for you.

I'm totally fine with it!"

Joe wasn't sure whether he was supposed to feel touched. He cast a disdainful glance at Dorian, who was driving, and said, "Elephant, why does it feel like you've become particularly useless lately?"

Upon hearing this, Dorian sighed and replied, "Boss, it's unfair to compare like that. How about I carry one for you as well?

Now that we've got flexible exoskeletons, I can carry more gear too."

Joe picked up the helmet on his lap and showcased it, saying, "In the future, I'll get each of you an intelligent helmet. When we head into battle next time, everyone will carry one—18 missiles should give any enemy a serious headache."

Hearing this, Dorian exclaimed joyfully, "We all get one?"

Joe responded matter-of-factly, "Of course. Everyone with a salary grade 18 and above will have one, all custom-fitted.

We'll even tailor the software systems inside, customizing the Intelligent Assistance System features according to each person's role and needs."

Joe sighed softly and said, "We'll likely have to shift toward a support-oriented approach in the future. King Kong's range is definitely adequate; I'm good too. But you should start thinking about it as well.

Portable missiles seem to suit you…"

Dorian, adhering to his wish to avoid being skinned alive by the Dragon Gecko, showed no agreement in his expression to his boss's lamentation about not being able to lead from the front lines.

The man simply chuckled nonchalantly and said, "Boss, it's not that we have to retreat. It's that the intensity of engagements faced by P.B. is escalating, and everyone needs to widen the combat distance.

We're special forces—no spec ops anywhere in the world would charge head-to-head against enemies like we do.

Syria's situation should definitely be avoided in the future. Even 'Bullhorn,' that idiot, almost lost his life."

Then, Dorian glanced back at the missile backpack in the rear seat and grinned, saying, "Now isn't this great? With these gadgets and the protection of the Springblade, we can deal with enemies from a distance.

Boss, if you're looking for excitement, go hunting or take a stroll through the African jungle."

Joe cast a contemptuous glance at Dorian, who was being overly serious, and sighed, saying, "After we clean up America's mess, we'll head back!

You're right—the intensity of battles we're facing has gotten ridiculously high. I'm worried that, at this rate, someone might bomb me with aircraft or artillery."

Dorian cautiously glanced at Joe and said, "Boss, don't forget you once had a fighter jet deployed to hunt poachers.

This isn't entirely implausible…"

Joe reflected on his recent extravagant spending and smacked his lips, saying, "Alright, fine. This time, after dealing with those African hicks, we'll lay low.

Once my child is born, we'll go live in Greece for a while.

My Santorini villa has been sitting idle for over a year now—if we don't go soon, odds are it'll start molding.

Taking a break wouldn't be a bad idea!"

Dorian hesitantly glanced at Joe and said, "Boss, don't worry about the villa. Muto and my sister Martina are managing it now—it's not going to degrade."

Joe blinked in surprise at Dorian and asked curiously, "Why the hell didn't I know this?"

Dorian shrugged and said, "Devil Bird approved it. She also had some people buy a few more villas and a hotel in Santorini under your name.

Muto isn't great at academics, but his tourism and hunting company in Italy is doing well. So, Devil Bird had Muto and my family manage the villas and hotels...

Currently, that location serves as the European hub for tourists heading into Africa via the hunting company..."

Dorian shrugged again and said, "Personally, I always felt Martina was too young to drop out at 17. If you think this arrangement isn't ideal, maybe it's not too late to bring them back to Italy."

Joe shook his head slightly…

Nis had purchased the villas and hotels using her own money.

The lady boss was evidently getting into stride, strengthening cohesion within the team by taking care of Karman's and Dorian's families.

Overall, it was a good thing—Muto, Karman's semi-illiterate son, once claimed he'd study law but spent barely any time in school after two years in Italy. Meanwhile, business at the hunting company soared.

Dorian's sister Martina was a street-smart rebellious girl, grown up in Sicily, and forcing her to study seemed like a punishment.

Yet, young minds tend to adapt quickly, and Martina, paired with Muto, managed to establish a solid framework for the hunting company.

Though the company had been losing money for the past couple of years, Eric found ways to channel money through it, ensuring its books always showed a profit.

Things only began improving slightly this year, with Prince Sayyid's massive investment launching operations at the Ndele Resort, the newly built Congo Virunga Volcano resort, and Uganda's Crocodile Hotel.

Meanwhile, construction continued on Kenya and Tanzania's grassland resorts, while Mozambique's seaside resort had already finalized its location.

With these bases established, the hunting company now had meaningful business operations.

Had it not been for the war in Ad-Damazin, the company might have already turned a profit.

Joe couldn't believe so much had transpired, yet he was the last to know…

Rather than getting upset, he found having a thoughtful woman who managed overlooked matters was quite the blessing.

Even so, being on the receiving end of life's orchestration inevitably brought a sense of helplessness!

Looking at Dorian, who was focused on driving, Joe said with mild resignation, "Is this how it is for all men? Once we have a family, so many things stop being within our control?"

Dorian paused briefly and nodded in agreement, saying, "I've never been married, but I grew up watching my dad transition from a Mafia underboss into a fruit and vegetable vendor.

Every time my sister got bullied, she'd argue with him.

Martina was too young to understand back then. She'd ask my dad why he wasn't in the Mafia, why he wouldn't stand up for her?

Whenever that happened, my dad would always glance at my mom, sigh deeply, and stay silent...

I figure that's what it means to be out of control.

But I think it's a good thing!

Being forced toward stability and happiness surely can't be considered bad."

For once, Joe was impressed by Dorian's philosophical take. He nodded and said, "I'm starting to get it now—why men develop so many unique hobbies.

Men need a passion that's entirely their own, something no woman can meddle in, even if it drives her crazy with frustration...

Like fishing, hunting, or, at the very least, watching someone trim a donkey's hooves…"

Dorian nodded in agreement and said, "Now that you mention it, it does seem that way.

My dad loved fishing. He'd head out to the ocean weekly, with little catch but plenty of joy.

Boss, maybe you should give it a try…"

Just as Joe was about to nod in affirmation, his phone rang...

"Boss, the FBI has tracked your whereabouts. I expect the mercenaries will receive the info very soon!"