America: Starting with Daily Intelligence
Chapter 108: Dirty Business War

Chapter 108: Chapter 108: Dirty Business War

Allen Zhang stayed in the apartment until about ten o’clock in the morning, then said goodbye to the two sisters from Eastern Wu.

Their performance was truly astounding. Paulina claimed she could do a backflip.

The General Sect Leader went to review it with a scrutinizing mindset, but accidentally fell for her scheme.

In a fit of rage, he got angry.

Leaving the apartment complex, Allen Zhang used his phone to call for a Beggar Gang Disciple to pick him up. But after waiting by the roadside for a long time, when someone finally arrived, they brought only a bicycle.

"Where’s the pickup truck? Why only a bicycle?"

Allen Zhang looked at the one-armed veteran who delivered the bicycle. He was somewhat surprised; his impression of the tall, skinny man named Richie, who was a Sergeant, was quite memorable.

Among those veterans, he held the highest rank and had a rather robust and outstanding image.

West Coast - Yang Guo.

"Boss, I’m sorry, the pickup truck was taken by a man named Jason. He said he was going to the countryside to check some goods, had arranged it with a farm’s grain merchant," answered the one-armed hero, Richie.

"That means he must have gone to buy sorghum seeds." Allen Zhang mulled it over but did not dwell on it.

No car to drive was fine; riding a bicycle was also good, exercising the body and reducing carbon emissions. If there’s information about a good deal later on, he could consider getting another vehicle.

"You’ve worked hard, Richie. How will you get back?" Allen Zhang asked.

"Don’t worry about me, boss. I’ll just walk back, it’s not far. It’s actually on the way to our workplace. Sieg told me to manage those disabled people; there seem to be some newcomers joining us at the abandoned work site," Richie brought more good news.

"They went to check the can recycling machines early this morning. Our saved up cans can now be exchanged for cash in small batches."

He then handed over a black briefcase to Allen Zhang, "This is from Sieg, for you."

Allen Zhang opened it and saw the cash from yesterday.

"Well done! I’ll come check the site after I handle my current tasks. You can go back first."

Allen felt Sieg’s arrangements were reasonable. After bidding Richie goodbye, he rode the bicycle to Eito Street.

He was planning to meet Old Karl and collect his reward of 1500 US Dollars.

A few minutes later, he arrived at the scrap collection station on Eito Street, parked the bicycle roadside, and noticed that the yard’s iron fence had been cut through, leaving a large hole.

Even the old pickup truck parked in the yard was cracked; its windows and rearview mirrors had been smashed, and the tires had been punctured.

Old Karl was furiously ranting, negotiating with several Black people wearing saggy pants and red bandanas, dressed in black leather jackets.

"2000 US Dollars! We can consider helping you get your revenge, find those troublemakers, and teach them a harsh lesson! Whoever dares to make the first move must be substantial; they’re not easy to mess with."

The leading Black man babbled, "It might just be some small gang formed by the local youths."

"Bullshit! Have you ever seen any gang member who’s so free they come to steal my junk? It’s definitely done by some Scavenger team from the streets!"

Old Karl immediately retorted, "It might just be those stinking rats living in the sewers, or those Mexican short-tailed dogs—they’re the ones who enjoy doing such senseless things!"

"Regardless of who among them did it, 1500 US Dollars isn’t enough to get us to do the job. There are at least a dozen of them; I need to get some handy weapons ready before going over. Do you really expect me and my guys to go there and get beaten up without any weapons? Shit! I don’t want to fight bare-handed with those hobos; they’re professional at it."

Black thought about it and felt it was unreliable; they still needed to pull out guns.

"If you guys don’t do it, there are others who will! I came to you because I had a past connection with your old man; otherwise, I could easily call the police or find some White folks on the streets. Why would I bother to cross districts to find you Black people to do the job?"

Old Karl cursed discontentedly, "Letting the word out would make others think Old Karl is getting lousier, with no connections, unable to find anyone to help him!"

"Bullshit! Those cops won’t give a damn about your lost pile of trash. They’re too lazy to even handle Zero-Dollar Purchases. Unless it’s happening right under their noses, or it benefits their promotion or salary increase, they won’t bother with you!"

"Also, don’t mention my old man; he’s been dead for so many years now. I’m the boss now, the top guy at Moschino! If you really had connections, you wouldn’t need to post a job listing on the Los Angeles work app."

Black mercilessly mocked Old Karl, "The era that belonged to your generation is long gone. It’s a new era now. Do you still think you can just take ten bucks to the next bar, find a destitute junkie, and get them to risk their lives for you? Watched too many old movies? You have to offer enough money for people to work for you! Otherwise, no deal!"

"Come back when you’ve got 2000 US Dollars. That’s the bottom line, goodbye!"

Several Black men with red bandanas arrogantly walked out of the yard.

"Out of the way! Kid!!" Glancing at Allen Zhang, they started up their Harleys, revved the engines with a blast of nitrous flames, and buzzed off.

Allen Zhang watched as the red bandanas disappeared, feeling baffled yet recognizing these Black men weren’t ordinary; they were indeed gang members.

He walked into the yard to greet Old Karl.

Old Karl, somewhat disheartened, sat on a disassembled wheel hub. Seeing Allen Zhang coming, he wasn’t very welcoming, just waved his hand dismissively.

"You see, I’ve run into some trouble, so no business today."

"You can tell—the cans and junk have been carried away. You must have offended someone," Allen Zhang said with a light smile.

"Just a dirty and despicable street business battle. I’ve seen too many of these schemes. It’s just another unlucky time getting dragged in. And those damn cops don’t care, just leaching off the citizens."

Old Karl spat nastily and lit a cigarette, taking a deep breath, "Sometimes, I wonder if that guy was right, though it’s unpleasant to hear—I’m indeed not suited for the street life anymore. I’m getting old; it’s time to retire, time to go back to the countryside farm and old house, raise some cows, a flock of chickens, and live a leisurely life every day."

"You’d better be talking about chickens," Allen Zhang teased, knowing his personality and preferences.

"Ha-ha-ha, if I want to die faster, indeed, I could foster some young, pretty poor street girls."

Old Karl laughed heartily.