Chapter 102: Transaction
Hershel looked at the stern man before him. He knew he had no room to refuse. He nodded.
Morales led Hershel to the lead vehicle, reached out and pulled open the door. "Please!"
Hershel looked inside. In the back seat sat a tall, large-framed Asian with a slight smile on his face.
"Hello."
Caesar extended his hand and shook hands with Hershel.
After Hershel got in the vehicle, Caesar said forward: "Morales, we can go."
The convoy started.
Hershel looked at Caesar a couple times. In the end he couldn't hold back and asked: "I want to know, why did you come to my farm?"
Caesar turned his head to look at Hershel, asking with a smile that wasn't quite a smile: "What do you think people come to a farm for?"
"Food?" Hershel guessed.
Caesar was noncommittal and nodded.
Immediately, Hershel's heart sank to the bottom. His brows also furrowed.
Not surprising. Coming to the farm to seize food—that sounded very normal.
But how much food would they leave him?
What if the food they left wasn't enough to eat, couldn't last until the next harvest? What then?
At that time, would he still have to take his family out to search for food?
The more he thought, the more worried Hershel became. His heart grew heavier and heavier.
Caesar glanced several times at Hershel's expression—black as could be. Caesar secretly lifted the corners of his mouth a few degrees.
The door-in-the-face technique. When someone starts by demanding to remove the roof, then proposes opening a window instead, the window request becomes much easier to succeed than directly proposing to open a window.
Caesar didn't know whether this stubborn little old man would agree to trade with them. First use the threat of seizure to scare him.
The armored vehicle Caesar rode in stopped on the open ground before the house. The several armored vehicles following closely surrounded it and stopped. The pickup trucks behind did the same.
The formation the entire convoy stopped in was circular.
This way, no matter which direction bullets came from, part would be blocked by the vehicle bodies.
Caesar patted Hershel's shoulder, saying softly: "Time to get out, friend."
Hershel returned to his senses in a daze, his forehead full of sweat beads. Only then did he get out.
Perhaps because of his age, plus momentary overthinking, with blood rushing to his head, Hershel's footsteps were somewhat unsteady when getting out.
"Dad!"
Seeing Hershel's unsteady figure, Maggie suddenly ran toward Hershel.
Hershel was standing right beside Caesar. Combat members raised their guns one after another, aiming at Maggie, wanting to stop Maggie's action.
Seeing the dense gun barrels aimed at herself, Maggie stopped right then.
Caesar waved his hand. "Let her come over."
Caesar released his hands supporting Hershel. Maggie immediately stepped forward, supporting Hershel, asking with a face full of concern: "Dad, are you alright?"
Hershel smiled. "Don't worry. I'm fine."
Hershel looked at this robber in human skin beside him, forcing a smile as he invited: "Sir, let's go inside and talk."
Caesar smiled and nodded, but saw Maggie glaring at him from the side.
Maggie could naturally see her father's condition wasn't right. It definitely had something to do with this man before her.
Caesar had no mind to tangle with Maggie. He turned his head and shouted: "Glenn!"
Glenn walked out from the crowd. His clean, neat short hair made him look mature and steady. Becoming captain had quite a large change on his spirit and energy.
Maggie looked at Glenn approaching. Her eyes stayed on him for several seconds.
Glenn was the same, except he concealed it better. During work hours he tried his best not to let personal emotions affect work.
Caesar smiled looking at the two, saying to Glenn: "She's in your hands."
Though Caesar's smile was somewhat strange, Glenn understood—Caesar wanted this girl not to affect this cooperation.
This cooperation was very important to the town.
The burden on his shoulders was heavy, Glenn thought.
Hershel had no opinions about this. He took the lead walking into the house.
Caesar followed. Morales and T-Dog stood beside Caesar. Morales waved his hand. Squad members filed into the house, entering to stand guard over the situation.
Maggie watched Hershel walking away. She froze for a moment, then quickly tried to follow.
Glenn took a quick step, blocking before Maggie. Maggie didn't brake in time and crashed into the bulletproof vest on Glenn's chest.
Crashing headlong into a bulletproof steel plate wasn't so easy.
Maggie's forehead instantly turned red. She covered her forehead, making a "tsss~" sound, stomping her feet in pain.
Glenn instinctively extended his hand, wanting to help massage the injured spot. But thinking this wasn't quite appropriate, he could only stand there at a loss.
After Maggie recovered a bit, she glared angrily at Glenn.
Maggie was very pretty. Her light green pupils were as clear and transparent as emeralds. Glenn watched and watched until he was a bit dazed.
Maggie also noticed Glenn's eyes weren't right. The corners of her mouth lifted. She smiled mischievously and stepped on Glenn's foot.
"Ahhh—"
Glenn, caught off guard, covered his foot. His face flushed bright red. He craned his neck to look at Maggie.
Seeing Glenn's miserable state, Maggie lowered her head and tried to enter the house.
On the small corridor connecting the house entrance, two equally armed warriors stood left and right, coldly watching Maggie.
Maggie's courage was quite large, but her strength was insufficient. Before she'd walked two steps, Glenn wrapped his arms around her.
Hugging her waist, he carried her toward the distance.
The two engaged in play-fighting. Maggie always maintained a good distance from the house.
Daryl chewed on a piece of grass, his mouth full of the bitter grass taste. He frowned watching the two. "In love?"
"They've both caught the same disease."
Inside the house, the guest room.
Hershel sat in the primary position, looking at Caesar on the side sofa.
Hershel's sitting posture was somewhat stiff. The firearms on his body had already been removed. He glanced at the coffee table—on it lay the disassembled parts of his firearms.
That's right. One handgun, one shotgun—both disassembled into parts. Even the bullets in the magazines had been extracted one by one.
Caesar's sitting posture was relaxed, as if this were his territory. "My name is Caesar. We're from Yellowstone."
"Hershel." Hershel nodded, introducing himself. "This is my family's farm passed down through generations. I absolutely will not let the ranch be lost in my hands."
Caesar didn't care about Hershel's veiled threat.
The weak were weak. It wasn't that a loud voice could make you seem less weak.
As long as Caesar wanted, they could easily destroy Greene Farm.
But Caesar didn't need the farm at all. What he needed was Hershel and his family—talents skilled at planting.
"You just said you came for food." Hershel raised his eyes to ask.
Caesar nodded. Morales walked out from the kitchen, carrying a pot of tea. He poured a cup for Caesar, then poured a cup for Hershel.
Caesar picked up the cup and blew on the tea's surface layer. "Yes."
patreon.com/Twilightsky588 - 100 advanced chapters