America: Starting with Daily Intelligence
Chapter 103 Unveiling the True Colors

Chapter 103: Chapter 103 Unveiling the True Colors

"Mr. Jin, give us a way to live! We can’t leave Fifth Street! It’s been so hard for us to settle down here, with a stable life. Leaving this place, we’ll surely end up back on the streets, homeless," Jon immediately began to play the victim.

The other Europeans joined in, wailing in unison and guilt-tripping, "Yeah, the street belongs to everyone, not just one person! You can’t persecute others just to satisfy your own selfish desires! That’s immoral! You have an illegal firearm, we could report you!"

"If you have the guts, just shoot! I want to see if you guys still want to live peacefully on the streets! The police might ignore one death, but not so many! They absolutely cannot turn a blind eye!"

"Mad dog! Don’t you move, just kneel there and let him shoot!!"

Some people just naturally have a harder backbone. From the beginning, they were silent, not affected, until their bottom line was crossed, and they suddenly erupted into an angry tirade like a rebellious young man.

Others began to jeer and smashed the bottles in their hands as a form of protest.

Sieg and the others were also surprised at how they suddenly grew a backbone.

The guy with the Mohawk immediately got angry, standing his ground and cursing back, "Can you shut up! Do you think I’m made of iron? It’s me who’s got the gun pointed at, not you, don’t shoot! For God’s sake, don’t shoot!!"

"I can tell, you’re a gutless guy too, they were never going to let us off! They’ve come to our doorstep, do you think just compensating is enough? We might as well fight! There are so many of us, do you think they’d really dare to shoot?"

"You must be out of your mind! What if they really dare to? Don’t you have a brain? Be my guest, come here and kneel down and see for yourself!" The Mohawked head cursed, dammit, go eat your damn flatbread.

It’s easy to talk without the pain, isn’t it.

Their own ranks began to fight amongst themselves.

"Where is this guy from?" Allen Zhang looked at the distinctly different Jon.

I wondered why he was so fearless, turns out he’s high on herbs! Can’t tell the difference between big and small figures anymore.

"I’m an American!!"

"He’s a Turk!!" cornered, the Mohawked head furiously exposed his shoddy lie, "Do you consider yourself worthy of being an American? What can you do here? Wash dishes? Dig foundations? Or go to the hospital to serve as a lab rat for drug trials? If I hadn’t kindly picked you up back then, given you food to eat, a bed to sleep in, and even money to spend on drug-addicted street women to service you, you would have surely died on the streets by now! You Turks are so ungrateful!!"

"Fxxkyou! You racist bastard!!"

The two immediately started to scrape.

"Enough! Stop fighting!!" Allen Zhang was also confused by their illogical actions, just state your case, what does fighting among yourselves achieve? Do you think this way I won’t ask for compensation anymore?

No! I will just ask for even more.

"This is between us! Don’t meddle!" Jon cursed back.

"Buddy, looks like you’ve been living the good life for too long," Allen Zhang was also annoyed by his brainlessly confrontational style, pushed away two Eastern Wu beauties beside him, walked over, and slapped Jon across the face, leaving him completely dazed.

"So you want to provoke me, huh? Good! I’ll make it happen! I’ll pack you up and send you back to romantic Turkey! Then chop you up and have you transferred to Paris."

Rolling up his sleeves, Allen Zhang grabbed his collar and dealt two more hefty slaps, blood gushing from his nose, his eyes rolling back as he fell in line.

Then he turned to the shivering, battered Mohawk head, "You hit my people, smashed my car, and you still dare argue! According to street rules, I’m being nice by not harvesting your organs straight away. I should be chopping off hands and feet as compensation! How do you have the nerve to ask me to forgive you?"

"We didn’t do it on purpose," said the Mohawked head, backing down.

"We did it on purpose, what can you do about it? What are you pretending for?" Jon defiantly shouted.

"Go to hell, you idiot."

Allen Zhang, uttering the finest of national curses, kicked Jon in the face, knocking him out cold.

"This guy must be out of his mind," Sieg and the others were speechless as well.

"Why so stubborn? You’re even more of a mad dog.

"Mr. Jin, we can talk about this! There’s no need to reason with a high and crazy lunatic," Jon said, sweating bullets, fearing that he might completely infuriate the other party and cause an all-out brawl where everyone present gets taken down.

To keep the peace, he decided to follow the example of Great Qing and cede territory and pay indemnities.

He immediately rushed back to his living quarters in the sewer system, which, to be accurate, was another world entirely, more like an underground fortress. He pulled out a paper bag from inside, all filled with neatly bundled paper currency, some even stained with red.

"This is the money we’ve recently made; it’s all centrally managed. If anyone uses it, we keep track of the expenses. It totals up to 4680 US Dollars, all here! Additionally, you can pick any street you like in our territory! I guarantee they are high-quality streets!"

The expressions of others turned sour—this was the hard-earned money they’d managed to scrape together!

What’s more critical was that they were being forced to cede their turf too! This was an utter disgrace!

"So much?"

Allen Zhang was somewhat surprised by their efficiency in making money, took the bag, casually grabbed a handful of bills to feel them, found the sensation indeed wonderful, and then put it back and tossed the bag to Sieg standing behind him.

"Not enough!!" He said indifferently.

Jon’s face darkened slightly, "Mr. Jin, we have already given all our savings. Don’t bully us too much! We’ve already ceded land and paid indemnities to admit our faults, what more do you want from us? We also have connections with other gangs!"

"Are your ears not working? I told you to get the hell out of Fifth Street. I am taking the territory and the money!"

Allen Zhang looked around and noticed he had incited anger in everyone; the mood got unstable. Things could turn desperate if this continued.

He then spoke up, "Actually, I’m not intentionally bullying or targeting all of you. I do understand everyone’s struggles, after all, we are all people with no place to call home, just trying to make a living. But there’s no choice, who told you to have a do-nothing boss and some pests who always stir trouble? Your reputation on the streets is totally trashed! If I let you go today and you continue to live here, your boss is definitely going to hire a gun to take me down!"

"I swear it won’t happen!!" Jon hurriedly assured.

"Your promise is worthless."

Ignoring him, Allen Zhang spoke to the others, "Do you wish to continue living here? Even go back to the old place to collect cans? Great, the rules are simple. The territory is ours, you just need to follow my rules. Everyone lists out a crime committed by your bosses, send them to jail! Only then can I rest easy!"

"Sieg, tell them about the rules of our team." Allen Zhang turned and sat on the couch, with two Eastern Wu models skillfully starting to massage him, and opened a bottle of beer.

"Our rule is..." Sieg cleared his throat and succinctly briefed everyone.

It’s really nothing much, just that the Beggar Gang has great benefits, high remuneration, low cut, and the General Sect Leader will smooth things over for you in a crisis, like this one.

Unfortunately, you’ve found yourself on the Beggar Gang’s opposing side and have become fodder for sacrifice.

But as long as you make the right decision, next time you’ll be the one standing here, watching others kneel.

The crowd was incredulous after hearing it, "What? Just a 20% cut? Are you sure you’re not joking?"

"Jon takes 60% from us! That includes extra fees for food, tax, shopping tax, and central management of the money."

"And no dividends from other valuable goods!"

Everyone began to discuss the matter matter-of-factly.

Jon was sweating profusely, instantly realizing these guys were exposing his dirty laundry!!

He glared hatefully at Allen Zhang. Are you even human? Just 20%? Are you running a charity?!

Doesn’t keeping young models cost money? Doesn’t buying property and assets for yourself cost money? As a boss, you can’t expect to stay in these crappy sewers forever, can you?!

If I don’t take more, how am I going to make a name for myself!