Chapter 55: Caring for the Lonely and Widowed Elderly
After becoming a member of the Secret Party Presbyterian Church, Ender was pulled by Angers and returned to the United States without stopping.
It was still some time before Beowulf's child was born, and Ender decided to solve another unstable factor.
"Did you deliver what you were asked to deliver?"
Ender asked Angers on a plane flying across the Atlantic Ocean.
"Penicillin strains, pharmaceutical production lines, industrial lathes... you still want a lot. I asked my British friends to send them to China via Hong Kong Island."
Ender nodded with satisfaction, joining the secret party was not without its benefits.
"I thought you would give China more help?"
Angers seemed a little strange about Ender's behavior. With his ability, not to mention a few machines, it would be no problem to kill the Five-Star Emperor.
Ender shook his head.
"You underestimate China too much, Angers. Don't treat them as lowly beggars giving alms."
"They are a group of human beings with ideals. Just watch. Even without me, China will still win this war."
Angers closed his eyes and ignored Ender who was chattering beside him. Although he joined the US military, it was just in name. He didn't care who won or lost the war in the Northern Dynasties.
"By the way, remember to keep an eye on the islanders. I'm worried that those people will be restless."
"There are only a few half-year-old children left in the Sheqi family. I guarantee that they will not appear in the Northern Dynasties."
In this life, Anger did not have a tattoo on his back, mainly because he was worried that the transformation technique would be invalid during the tattoo, but his powerful strength still conquered the eight families of Sheqi, just like the famous Tongliao Khan said:
A mushroom cloud in Hiroshima brought dad to the eight Sheqi families.
"Instead of worrying about island countries, it's better to worry about North American hybrids."
The United States is a magical land. Tens of thousands of years ago, bison once ran here without restraint, and the wind of freedom blew in this land.
After the colonists arrived with bacteria and guns, their already barren minds were filled with the wind of freedom.
The sparsely populated environment here is naturally a breeding ground for anarchists, especially for those of mixed race.
North American mixed breeds rarely make their home on the east coast. They prefer the unfettered central and southern areas. Here they are large landowners with thousands of acres of fertile land and can play the game of being emperor on their farms.
The leader of these mixed races was the famous Texas Sheriff at that time: Sir Henkel.
You must know that people in Texas have some brain problems, which are more obvious in these mixed-races. Therefore, for a long time in the beginning, the main job of Sheriff Henkel, nicknamed Quick Hand Henkel, was to mediate those mixed-races.
kind of contradiction.
Until one day, a group of high-risk hybrids attacked Henkel's small town. At that time, he had just gotten off work and was getting drunk in the bar.
Hearing the cry for help, Henkel emptied his revolver without looking up, and then asked the bartender for a glass of whiskey.
Those flying bullets passed through the windows of the bar and pierced the brains of those hybrids. They didn't even have time to kill a human being and died under Henkel's alchemy revolver "Texas Dawn".
Henkel's strong strength made him famous in one battle, and he was elected as the local mulatto leader by the rugged mulatto cowboys.
"The reason we go this time is to convince Henkel."
Angers introduced the story of Henkel to Ander. If he wanted to make the North American hybrids obedient, he could only get rid of Henkel first.
"I'm good at persuading others."
Ender patted his chest confidently. For Ender, solving the problem with his tongue was nothing.
A few days later, Sir Henkel's home in Texas, USA.
Although he was called Sir Henkel, Henkel did not hold a title in a certain kingdom, it was just a nickname.
Sir Henkel doesn't live in the castle either. He has a beautiful house in a small town. The residents of the town all know that Henkel is an old sheriff with accurate marksmanship. He always does things with a bit of the western cowboy flavor.
.
Old Han Gao lived alone. Every day he would ride his horse to patrol the land, chat with the mixed-race family in the east, or go to the bar for a drink after completing the patrol. His life was simple and monotonous.
After completing the day's work, Mr. Henkel returned home a little drunk. He washed up a few times, put on a loose nightgown and lay down on the bed.
His wife had passed away long ago, and his son had run away. The poor old man lived alone with his horse, and the spacious house seemed a little deserted.
Caring for the lonely elderly.
Henkel closed his eyes. He was already over seventy years old now, and even a mixed race's body functions would decline at this time. He did not notice that some yellow gas had filled the entire room at this time.
"Did you drink too much today?"
Henkel fell into a drunken sleep. He vaguely heard something moving, but he was so tired that he didn't even want to move his fingers.
"Maybe it's a rat."
Henkel had a dream in which he was fighting a giant dragon. The dragon had golden scales and looked so elegant.
Henkel's chest tightened suddenly. He turned around and found Angers standing behind him, holding his favorite gun in his hand. He hit him in the back mercilessly, just like he had done to Angers.
Made like that.
Henkel woke up gasping for breath and found that he was buried in the soil with his head exposed. The soil seemed to be controlled by some kind of force, leaving a gap in his chest to prevent him from suffocating.
There were two people standing in front of him, one of whom appeared in his dream, his former friend: Hilbert Jean Angers.
"Ange, you%&%%￥#@#*%..."
Years of living in Texas have allowed Sir Henkel to accumulate a wealth of curse words. Words starting with F jumped out of his mouth like machine guns, sweeping away eighteen generations of his ancestors and female relatives, centered on Angers.
"Calm down Henkel, we have a guest."
There was a joking smile on Ange's face. When Ander planned to have some physical exchanges with Henkel, Ange knew that it was time for a good show. Although he would not use this method to deal with Henkel, but looking at it
It's still very interesting to think that someone who stabbed himself in the back is deflated.
So Angers watched Ander stun Henkel with dragon's breath and use magic to bury him in the soil next to the house.
This gave Angers the pleasure of a successful prank. Perhaps this was childlike innocence, after all, men will always be young until they die.
Ender adjusted his clothes, walked out slowly, and said very politely to Henkel who was buried in the ground:
"Sir Henkel, I'm here to negotiate terms."
"Do I have a choice?"
"Of course, I am very democratic. Do you want to choose the revolver or the axe?"
"Can I choose the third one?"
"Sorry Sir Henkel, that's how American democracy is. You can only choose the less watery piece of shit to swallow."