Dominate South Asia

There are all kinds of birds in a big forest, and there are also mixed fish and dragons among the refugees.

That year, a major earthquake occurred, and the whole country was shocked. People from all over the country donated money and materials, and some people even went to rescue spontaneously. However, some people took advantage of the earthquake to rob property. They dared to rob gold shops, jewelry stores, and even banks, making money from the national disaster. They were complete scum and scum.

There are also lawless people among these refugees. The robber now is not a good bird.

Muhammad happened to pass by. When he saw this phenomenon, the bag snatcher was in front of him. Without hesitation, Muhammad immediately blocked him.

"Get out of the way." The man said while waving the scimitar in his hand that flashed with cold light.

Seeing that Muhammad had no intention of getting out of the way, his knife immediately stabbed towards Muhammad's chest, and this action was not delayed at all.

Muhammad stared at the machete, grabbed the wrist of the man holding the knife with his left hand, raised it, and then raised his right knee and hit the man's chest hard.

"Pah." The machete fell to the ground, and the robber lay on the ground, curled up.

Muhammad's attack was very heavy, which made the man lose his fighting power in an instant. Looking at the guy's bent body, Muhammad couldn't help but kicked him hard on the back.

"Crack." With a clear sound, the ribs on the back of the guy were broken, and he screamed loudly in pain.

Several refugees gathered around, and they were all happy to see this guy being beaten.

"He deserves to be beaten! He bullies people in the refugee camp!"

"Yes, he still steals things in the middle of the night!"

"Beat him!" More and more refugees gathered around, and several people couldn't help but came up to punch and kick this guy again.

Muhammad stepped out of the crowd, holding his bag, and looked at the limping girl who was slowly walking towards him.

This era was when Western liberalism prevailed. Pakistan's original discipline was not strict, and it was common for girls to dress like this.

"Thank you for your help." The girl said to Muhammad with a charming smile on her face.

"You're welcome." Muhammad said, and just after he finished speaking, he saw the smile on the girl's face solidify and become painful: "Ouch."

Her feet hurt again.

"Come, sit down." Muhammad said to the girl. Seeing the girl sitting on the steps on the side of the road, Muhammad bent down, touched her ankle with both hands, rubbed it a few times, and said: "Look over there, that guy was arrested by the police."

The girl turned her head and just saw the two policemen, she felt a sudden pain in her feet.

"Okay." Muhammad said: "The dislocation of the foot bones has been corrected for you, but the swelling on the surface will not disappear until a few days later."

Just now, Muhammad just diverted the girl's attention. With a force of both hands, he helped her restore the original state of the foot bones.

The girl stood up and walked again. It was not as painful as before. She couldn't help but say to Muhammad: "Thank you, sir. What's your name?"

"Mhammad." Muhammad said: "The bus is here. Do you want to get on the bus?"

The girl limped on the bus. Muhammad looked at the girl's back beside the window and left. He continued to walk forward. When he arrived in Peshawar, he would go home and have a good sleep first!

When Muhammad woke up again, it was already night.

Although it was very close to Afghanistan, there was no incident of the Soviet Air Force crossing the border. Peshawar did not carry out air defense control, and there were dim lights on the streets.

The mosque in the distance showed a pointed roof. The wind blew on the roof, making a humming sound.

Mhammad walked out of the guesthouse without receiving the order of the chief of staff. It was very likely that the Americans did not agree. Muhammad walked while thinking about what to do.

Someone has to introduce me, otherwise, the CIA will not take the initiative to contact me, and the chief of staff will not let me meet the Americans directly. What method should I think of?

Muhammad thought while walking, and looked up, and saw that the corner of the street was brightly lit, and there were a few big English words there, shining.

Bar? This bar should be newly opened, right? There are no bars in Peshawar, or in the whole of Pakistan.

Pakistan is a country that prohibits alcohol. The official prohibition of alcohol began in 1977. Only four or five years have passed. Many people miss the days when they had alcohol to drink. However, Muslims are absolutely not allowed to drink.

In Pakistan, there are also non-Muslims, especially now. In Peshawar, there are many foreigners, such as Americans and Europeans, who assist Pakistan in the war in Afghanistan. The arrival of these people has stimulated the development of other industries, such as the bar in front of us, which only entertains foreigners, and is also a good business.

Muhammad watched several Americans coming in and out, and immediately had an idea. He might as well try his luck inside. Maybe he could meet someone from the CIA and contact them directly!

Thinking of this, Muhammad took a big step and walked inside.

"Sorry, you can't go in." Muhammad was stopped by two doormen when he reached the door.

With a big beard, a high nose bridge, and a towel wrapped around his head, Muhammad's Muslim features were too obvious. This bar is an industry on the edge of a knife and strictly abides by Pakistani laws.

Mhammad could only retreat. He wanted to find a place to climb in. Just after he took a few steps back, he heard a burst of hurried footsteps inside.

"James, I can't drink anymore." The woman's voice was loud.

"Ayesha, as long as you drink this cup, I will give you ten dollars." Another voice.

Hearing this voice, the woman stopped, and then heard the sound of beer pouring into her mouth.

"Okay, these tips are all yours, Daniha, if you are willing to spend the night with me, you will get more." James' voice continued to appear in Muhammad's ears.

"No." The woman's voice was trembling, and Muhammad heard the sound of clothes being torn.

Damn it! Muhammad finally couldn't help it, took a big step, and rushed into the bar.

"You can't go in." The waiter at the door wanted to stop him, but Muhammad waved his arm and pushed away the arm blocking him and rushed in.

After a few steps, Muhammad saw four or five Americans surrounding a girl. The girl was covering her chest with her hands. Her suspenders were broken and her breasts were faintly visible.

The girl had drunk a lot and her eyes were a little blurry. When she saw Muhammad, her eyes were full of help.

It was the girl in the daytime. When the girl got on the bus, Muhammad thought she was just an ordinary employee. Who would have thought that she would be a hostess at night.

When he saw Aisha's eyes, Muhammad knew that he had to help her anyway. Accompanying is one thing, and ** is another, not to mention that Aisha was unwilling.

"Hey, brother, this is not America. Pakistani girls will not sleep with foreigners casually." Muhammad said.

Hearing Muhammad's words, the Americans who were surrounding Aisha turned to Muhammad.

"FUCK! How did you get in? Do you know the rules here?" James said, and he picked up the beer bottle.

Aisha's foot was still a little twisted, and too much alcohol made her head a little dizzy. She only knew that Muhammad was here to save her. She ran to Muhammad and hid behind his body.

These Americans looked very tall, but their fighting experience was similar to the way thugs fight. Muhammad looked at James holding a beer bottle and stood there quietly.

Just as James raised the beer bottle and smashed it on Muhammad's head, Muhammad dodged suddenly, grabbed James' arm with both hands, and used the strength of his wrist and waist to exert force.

There was a crisp sound, and James' arm drooped down.

Muhammad did not intend to kill. After all, he needed the help of the Americans. Logically, he should not have a conflict with these Americans. Now that the conflict was inevitable, Muhammad was also trying his best to control the scale of the conflict. He just removed the opponent's arm from the shoulder. If it was on a real battlefield, Muhammad would have broken the opponent's arm, then turned behind the opponent and twisted the opponent's neck.

The beer bottle in his hand fell to the ground. James was subdued in just one move.

Another American rushed towards Muhammad, holding a sharp saber in his hand.

Muhammad kicked the ground with both feet, jumped up, kicked the opponent's wrist with a flying kick, and the saber fell to the ground. Then, Muhammad fell down. When the opponent lowered his head to look at the saber, his arms and waist clamped the opponent's neck, and clamped it hard at the aorta.

In just five seconds, the American's body fell down with a bang, and he had fainted.

Muhammad easily knocked down the two men, and the rest of the Americans dared not come up again. They were all drunk, and they had been away from the United States for too long, so they couldn't hold back the things in their crotches. However, the man in front of them was too good at fighting, so they weighed the pros and cons and decided not to go up.

Aisha looked at Muhammad with admiration in her eyes. She hesitated for a moment, but still took Muhammad's arm and wanted to leave with Muhammad.

"You injured two people here, and you want to leave so easily?" At this moment, a voice sounded from behind.