"I thought you would take advantage of the situation and pretend to be that saint," Zhao Yun laughed. "Don't underestimate the Fire Worshiping Sect just because it's small; it has deep roots. Over a thousand years ago, it was the state religion of the Persian Empire, even more prestigious than Christianity. Now, there aren't many in the Middle East who follow the Fire Worshiping Sect, but after so many years, those who still keep the faith are extrely devout believers."
"No way, I don't want to deal with foreign religions," Su Ming shrugged his shoulders. Dostic religions and foreign ones, especially those in the Middle East, are vastly different. The dostic religions are rely attached to the regi, existing as a product to 'maintain social stability' and lack their own substance. In contrast, religions in the Middle East still loom over the governnt to so extent. Many are ********, holding guns in their hands, with doctrines above the law.
It's better to offend local governnts or even warlords than to offend religious groups.
Moreover, my ability to resist flas is due to the energy storage ball and has nothing to do with their saint.
Impersonating might feel good for a mont, but there would be a day when the truth would be uncovered. By then, I'd have to wait to be hunted down by thousands of devout believers like Basel who dare to immolate themselves.
Standing at the airport entrance and looking around, the periter of Baghdad International Airport was surrounded by layers of barbed wire. On the grassy fields around the airport, pairs of ard soldiers were visible everywhere ... oh no, that's not right, it was squads of ard soldiers patrolling, and aside from the ground of the airplane runway, which was still sowhat flat, the nearby grounds and grassy areas were pockmarked with large and small holes.
During the years when the Aricans dominated Iraq, Baghdad Airport, due to the transit of military troops and supplies, was not only the most defensively fortified place but also the most attacked. Reportedly, at the height of conflict, there were as many as eighteen rockets fired at the airport in a single day.
This also shows how poor Iraq's economy is now; after all these years, they still can't afford to repair the holes blasted into the airport grounds.
"Will that guy be sentenced?" asked Su Ming as he left the plane, pointing at Basel being escorted away by soldiers. Basel might be a bit crazy, but compared to that short guy who only spouted nonsense, he seed more like a man. Of course, Su Ming didn't want to interact with Basel again; the man was too dangerously unpredictable!
"Probably not. Most followers of Islam don't really have an aversion to the Fire Worshiping Sect. So even believe Mazda is one of the incarnations of their god. People like that guy with the mustache who are extrely extre are quite rare. Every family has its own troubles, and the Iraqi Governnt has always tried to attract and protect such small sects with long histories. Thankfully, no one died, so they probably won't even have to compensate; they'll just give them a lesson and have their Clan Leader take them back," said Zhao Yun.
After getting off the plane, they went to the airport exchange and got 1.6 million Dinars. The local currency was severely devalued, with the official rate being 1:166 against the Huaxia currency. 1.6 million Dinar equaled about 10,000 Huaxia currency, but the airport staff only charged them 6,000 for the exchange. The highest denomination was 25,000 per note. In Iraq, this hardly amounted to pocket money; hotels and other expenses still needed to be settled with US Dollars or Huaxia currency.
After leaving the airport, the three of them caught a yellow taxi straight to the local tourism managent departnt, where official personnel specialized in liaising with them were waiting to serve as guides for the following days and to handle the procedures for purchasing animals.
The taxi drove into the city, this once glorious ancient city littered with the remnants of war. The soldiers ard to the teeth were the most common sight on the streets, so of whom were obviously still children, not yet fully developed, with a hint of youthful innocence, appearing even younger than Nangong Huang.
Taxi drivers all over the world tend to be talkative, and Baghdad's own were no exception. Driving the car swiftly, dodging the potholes left by bombs with jerky maneuvers, the driver chatted away incessantly with Zhao Yun.
Learning that the three passengers were from Huaxia in the East, the driver imdiately showed great envy. In Iraq, Huaxia people might not have the best living conditions, but they were definitely the safest. Baghdad experiences explosions daily in certain unpredictable areas, with various factions, governnt forces, insurgents, the coalition ****, and IS Country to the north, all fighting fiercely. Sightings inevitably lead to clashes, but thanks to the Huaxia Governnt's foreign policy stance, no one provokes them, so no faction deliberately attacks Huaxia people. As long as they avoid crowded places, religious sacred sites, and Shiite-majority areas, Huaxia people are relatively safe.
"He said he really wants to live in Huaxia, where he's heard that there are no constant wars, not even guns, and everyone believes in Marx. Dozens of ethnic groups live together in peace," Zhao Yun translated.
"I see. My dad sent here to receive a patriotic education,"
What Nangong Huang said wasn't a joke. Back ho, it always seed like there was sothing wrong with the country, and life was full of dissatisfactions. But having seen Iraq, where twelve and thirteen-year-olds have to take up arms and could be obliterated by bombs at any mont, Nangong Huang realized that life back ho was absolutely heavenly.
Suming didn't speak, thinking that he definitely couldn't take him along the next ti he went to Europe for fun.
The car sped along the road and soon arrived in front of a three-story building in the eastern part of Baghdad City Area.
It looked like a small motel from the outside, with an Iraqi flag hanging at the entrance, riddled with several holes which were probably bullet holes.
This rundown place was the Ministry of Tourism—a provincial-level departnt of a country that looked no different than the town governnt office of Sun Town. The biggest difference was that there was no security guard at the entrance of the Sun Town governnt office, while two ard soldiers stood guard on either side of the Ministry's door.
Seeing three East Asians with suitcases stepping out of a taxi and heading towards the Ministry of Tourism, the two soldiers didn't think twice before blocking the entrance, looking up and remaining silent.
Suming slipped a Dinar note to each soldier. They glanced at the 10,000 denomination and then, like robots, swiftly moved aside without even asking what they were there for, just letting them through.
The Ministry official who received Suming and the others had an office with an electric fan. After a brief conversation, the official made a call, chattering away for a few monts.
"He's arranged for an official from the tourism bureau to accompany us. The official is more or less equivalent to a 'deputy division-level clerk' back ho. They will lead us in buying animals over the next few days. However, we are responsible for the guide's food, accommodation, and transportation expenses, as the bureau doesn't have the budget for it," Zhao Yun explained.
Before long, the door was pushed open, and a small, dark, and skinny figure walked in. Upon entering, he didn't even glance at Suming and the others, but gave a very respectful bow to the 'leader.'
"It's him... Is it really him?" Zhao Yun's voice suddenly changed.
The junior clerk had already turned around, and their faces t Suming and the others'.
It was the sa guy who had argued with Nangong on the plane.
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