I Have a Mansion in the Post-apocalyptic World

Chapter 1573: A Friendly Plunder

After the military parade, Chief Zaria, the United African Tribes representative, declined an invitation to Jiang Chen’s banquet. He rushed back to Mombasa by ship overnight and immediately headed to the palace to meet the War Chief.

When he arrived, the palace was also hosting a banquet.

But this banquet was not to celebrate the New Year, but to celebrate the harvest in the Victoria Lake Development Zone, and to celebrate the almost overfilled granary in Mombasa.

During the banquet, the nobles in the Steel Teeth Tribe ate so much they looked bloated. Compared with the time when the banquet was held last year, they were bulkier. From the amount of fat on their bodies, it was not difficult to see that they have lived quite well in the past three years.

“Why did you come back so quickly? Is the monkey’s food not good? Or they didn’t treat you well?” After War Chief Duaman took a bite of roasted venison, he put his arm around the blonde and blue-eyed beauty, looked at Zaria who knelt on one knee at the gate, then smiled cheerfully and said, “Come on, Turmen, squeeze your fat a bit, and give Chief Zaria a place to sit. The banquet has just begun, try this new bottle of wine… Damn, these Asians know how to enjoy themselves. I wonder what method they used, but this new wine has no astringency at all.”

“No, neither, War Chief, they treat me politely, but I had to come back early and report to you what I saw…” Chief Zaria knelt on one knee in front of War Chief Duaman and explained everything he saw at the NAC celebration and the military parade that day.

Chief Zaria felt a trace of fear from the prosperity of NAC.

NAC and Steel Teeth Tribe was in a honeymoon period because the things NAC gained from Steel Teeth Tribe was enough to support the prosperity of NAC. But what about in ten years? What about after twenty years?

From looting food and industrial raw materials from Africa, and then dumping industrial products in Africa, NAC’s industry expanded at an incredible speed, and completely liberated labor from mutant fruit farms and nutrient supplies factories.

One day, NAC’s appetite would swell to the point where Steel Teeth Tribe or even the entire United African Tribes would not be able to satisfy it.

Zaria was even a little regretful now.

Perhaps the agreement he signed with NAC was the wrong choice from the beginning.

“…Their soldiers add up to less than half of Mombasa’s, let alone our great alliance. But all the soldiers are armed with kinetic skeletons to their teeth, and the way they marched seemed like they were carved out of a mold. Compared to the sleepy slackers in my tribe, they are not as strong as us, nor as fierce as we are, but I have no confidence at all if faced with that kind of army…”

As soon as Zaria explained, he lowered his head and stopped speaking.

Of course, he did not dare to compare the elites of War Chief Duaman to those soldiers but only compared the soldiers to those in his own tribe. With the cleverness of War Chief Duaman, he would be able to comprehend the meaning behind his message.

“I see. You should be tired after traveling for so long. Come here and sit down first.”

Zaria raised his head and looked at the War Chief in disappointment, he then lowered his head again and said in a heavy tone.

“Yes.”

The banquet continued, and the atmosphere did not become heavy because of Chief Zaria’s words.

On the contrary, War Chief Duaman’s eyes were mixed with a little more absent-mindedness when he touched the gold goblet.

Compared to those nobles in the tribe who only ate, drank, and enjoyed themselves, as well as those “warriors” corrupted by the wine and meat, he certainly was more far-sighted in terms of considerations.

Over the years, with the expansion of NAC in the Lake Victoria Development Zone, the farms had expanded from the initial 1 million mu to 5 million mu. The annual grain payment also increased from 400,000 tons to more than 2 million tons, and the granary of the Steel Teeth Tribe was almost overfilled.

Food prices were getting cheaper and cheaper, but the number of arms exchanged was decreasing day by day. Just like the leaders of African countries before the war, War Chief Duaman gradually began to realize the unequal trade between non-industrial and industrial countries.

The agreement that was signed at the time seemed to be very favorable to trade food for power armor. However, with the dumping of industrial products, the flood of arms started to escalate the internal conflicts within United African Tribes, and the South African Alliance seemed to be eager to move in. The price of arms increased instead. Originally, five containers of food could be exchanged for a power armor, now fifty containers of food were not enough to trade for one leg of a power armor.

It seemed that the other party maintained a friendly attitude and worked with them politely. However, War Chief Duaman had the illusion that his home was being robbed by bandits.

No, it was no longer an illusion.

The feeling was real.

Not only that but recently, several large United African Tribes near the Steel Teeth Tribe became more and more restless, and they started to treat him less and less seriously. They even disregarded and violated his orders.

War Chief Duaman knew who gave them the courage.

Those Asians were not only doing business with him but also doing business with other tribes.

Some time ago, the Mammoth Tribe in the north also contracted the entire port to Future Development. Since they did not have cargo ships and could not trade with Wanghai, they could only invite those Asians over.

“It can’t go on like this.” After the banquet, the drunk War Chief Duaman found his Minister of Commerce Turmen, who was the fat man who had moved for Chief Zaria, “We can’t let the NAC continue to export arms to the United African Tribes… burp…”

“War Chief, you drank too much, I will help you go back.” When Turmen saw Duaman was about to fall, he hurriedly walked up and supported him.

“I’m not drunk.”

War Chief Duaman waved his hand and pushed Turmen away, he gave the fat man a fierce look, and then after he saw the latter shrink his neck in fear, he cleared his throat.

“Next week, we will hold a meeting of chiefs. You have to give me a contract. The effect is that NAC arms cannot be sold to African ports at will. They can only be unloaded at the port of Mombasa. Otherwise, it will be regarded as smuggling…”

“Will this cause backlash from other chiefs…” Turmen quickly stopped talking when he saw Duaman’s gaze started to become unfriendly. He lowered his head and nervously said, “Yes, yes, I will get on it. ”

“Hmph,” Duaman snorted and waved his hand, annoyed, “Go now.”

“Yes Yes!”

When Turmen returned home, the drunkenness on his face quickly disappeared. He grabbed some medicine and poured it into his mouth. He swallowed it with a sip of water and rushed into the bedroom. He grabbed the phone hidden under the pillow, dialed the number as his fingers trembled, and then held the phone to his ear.

This call was given to him by a man, and it could only dial the only number.

The phone rang three times.

The phone connected.

There was no nonsense. Turmen had a flattering smile on his face and repeated the words that War Chief Duaman had ordered him just now.

After the phone call ended, Turmen fell asleep.

However, even he did not expect that at dawn the next day, the fire of a civil war would burn all over the east coast of the United African Tribes…