It seemed that he didn't care about the black youth who had been encircled toward him in a ring. The middle-aged man of obvious Eastern European descent rudely grabbed the bottle of wine in front of him and poured himself a glass of tequila again: "Tell Mr. Potova that my patience and my time are extremely limited! If I can't see him within five minutes, then I will immediately make an appointment with another gentleman from Mogadishu-he lives downstairs!"

The black young man who had just cut his arm walked slowly to the middle-aged white man with a cautious look: "At least I have to know who you are and why you want to see Mr. Potova?"

With a surprise laugh, the middle-aged white man acted like a drunken drunk: "Who am I? I am Santa Claus who can bring great benefits to your master! As for why I asked you to meet your master... Could it be that Mr. Potova cannot understand the content of the note I wrote? Or did you not hand the note to your master at all?"

Before the black young man could speak, Potovana's obvious doubtful voice sounded at the door of the bar: "Are you sure you have something written on the sticky note?"

After drinking a glass of tequila again, the middle-aged white man stood up, shaking his very fat body, and owed slightly to Potova who had just walked into the bar: "Wu An, Mr. Potova!"

Without approaching the middle-aged white man, Potova shouted in a gloomy face: "I'm here not to hear you say noon to me - yes, or not?!"

Shrugged slightly, the middle-aged white man sat back on the chair: "This is not what it should be like when discussing business..."

I don’t know what hint Potova made. When the middle-aged white man finished speaking, the black young men who had already surrounded the middle-aged white man, pulled out their own self-defense pistols and pointed the gun at the middle-aged white man!

With Yin Qi's face, Potova's voice clearly had a cold murderous intent: "I'll give you five seconds to answer, otherwise you'll be waiting for your brain to splash on the table in front of you!"

Smiling lazily, the middle-aged white man looked at the burly white young man sitting beside him: "Habby, show them your little toy?"

With a cold face, the white young man slowly put down the champagne glass held in his hand, and gently lifted his clothes with two strong fingers.

Still maintaining a lazy smile, the middle-aged white man looked at Potova with a humble face: "If I remember correctly, Mr. Potova should be very familiar with this little toy?"

Just glanced at the two cylindrical metal cans hanging in the white young man's clothes, Potov suddenly changed his face...

In the frequent genocides in Rwanda, in order to cover up the fact of genocide, many tribal armed forces often pile up all the corpses after concentrating on massacres of civilians from enemy tribes, and then throw an aluminum thermal incendiary bomb on the corpses. With a burn of up to thousands of degrees, the piled corpses were burned into a pile of ashes in a very short time. Even DNA detection was difficult to detect how many innocent lives the ashes contained!

And just before my eyes, two aluminum thermal incendiary bombs with heartbeat detection trigger devices were enough to turn everything in the entire bar into ashes...

After hesitating for a moment, Potov said in a low voice: "It seems you are ready?"

Haha laughed, the middle-aged white man stood up from the chair again and made an invitation gesture to Potoví: "Any time, it is a virtue to be fully prepared! Please sit down, Mr. Potoví! I'm a little in a hurry, we'd better reach a consensus on something as soon as possible!"

Slowly walking to the chair opposite the middle-aged white man, Potov stared at the middle-aged white man's eyes and sat down slowly on the chair: "You do have..."

He reached out and took out a thin envelope from his pocket. The middle-aged white man raised his hand and threw it on the table: "Look!"

With a suspicious look on his face, Potov grabbed the envelope and looked at the thin drawings in the envelope, turned to look at the black young man standing beside him: "Go bring him!"

He nodded quickly, and the black young man turned around and left the bar. But in just a few minutes, an old man with a hunched back had already walked into the bar right behind the black young man.

He raised his hand and handed the drawings in the envelope to the old man with a hunched back. Potov stared coldly at the middle-aged white man with a lazy smile without saying a word. And beside Potov, the old man who had obtained the drawings had already pulled over a chair and sat down on his own, and carefully reviewed the drawings.

In the strange silence, the passage of time seemed unusually slow. Almost everyone's attention was focused on the old man who was reviewing the drawings. I don't know how long it had passed. The old man who was reviewing the drawings carefully slowly raised his head and said to Potova who was watching him: "This is indeed the drawing of the individual air defense missile guidance chip. There are indeed some improvements, but the drawings are only half, and the core technical content is not reflected in it!"

Smiling lazily, the middle-aged white man waved his hand at Potova: "Believe it now?"

Slowly shook his head, the silly expression on Potova's face became stronger and stronger: "You also heard that this is just half of the drawings, and what I want is the real thing! There is no way to deal before I can see what I want!"

He raised his hand and pointed to the empty bar, the middle-aged white man responded with a smile: "Do you think this is a place for trading? What are you going to use to detect what you want? The pistol your hyena carries? Or the satellite phone you kicked in your pocket?"

Staring in the middle-aged white man's eyes, Potov responded in a low voice: "Where do you think is the right one?"

After stretching hard, the middle-aged white man slowly stood up: "After dinner, someone will come to you, and we will wait for you in a suitable place - bring your testing instruments and money, especially money, don't forget!"

Staring at the middle-aged white man who was pretending to leave, Potova slowly stood up and stretched out his right hand to the middle-aged white man: "At least... I have to know who I am dealing with?"

Shaking his head indifferently, the middle-aged white man completely ignored Potova's outstretched slap and led the burly middle-aged white man towards the bar door: "It doesn't matter who I am, what matters is that you get the goods you want, and I get the money I want!"

"But you didn't even say the transaction price?"

Suddenly, the middle-aged white man squeezed his eyes at Potoví: "Price? My respected Mr. Potoví, after seeing the goods, I think you will be happy to give a price you can bear and I am very satisfied with. Now... Wu'an, gentlemen, I have to meet the next potential customer!"
Chapter completed!