America: Starting with Daily Intelligence
Chapter 149 - 125: Documents in Hand_2

Chapter 149: Chapter 125: Documents in Hand_2

I can’t beat an armed Asian, and I can’t beat you, a bastard with no mother?

"You’re little Kizz, hanging out with Martin? I saw you last time we did business."

The unusual activity downstairs caught the shop owner’s attention. He was a big and burly Black man with a gold chain around his neck. Coming down from upstairs, he was hugging a Black woman.

He was just doing something he enjoyed with the Black woman upstairs when his underling rushed to tell him someone was causing trouble, and it was an Asian.

He wanted to come down to take a look, but the person left quickly, so he didn’t care much and continued with the Black woman, being sweet together.

From his years of experience on the streets, he knew Asians usually don’t cause trouble. But when they do, you’d better learn how to behave!

If the guy wasn’t crazy, he must at least be a tough street thug. Not caring about skin color, many Black guys got into trouble for messing with the wrong people and died mysterious deaths.

But now someone was looking for trouble again? A Black Devil?

Motherfucker!!

Little Kizz recognized him, knowing he had money, power, and influence, someone he, a street rat, could not afford to offend. He didn’t dare admit to embezzling 5000 US Dollars from the gang and hiding it in a brake pad, or else there’d be hell to pay.

With no other choice he said, "I left something here and need to look for it."

"What’s that? Coco? Cash? Diamonds?" The garage owner sneered at him, "You come to my turf without a heads-up, fine, but you’re thinking of tampering with those brake pads? Is this Martin’s idea? Wasn’t he satisfied with the previous deal’s price?"

"Speak!!"

Little Kizz stayed silent, angering the garage owner who stepped up and gave him a big slap, dazing him.

Cursing, "Fxxk! You damn fool! Even though I deal with your gang, it doesn’t mean you can just show up and mess with me, affecting my work and earnings! I don’t ever want to see you again! Don’t you dare tamper with my client’s vehicles!"

In a rage, he drew a pistol named Truth from his waist.

Little Kizz and his crew took a beating without a word, their faces swollen, and they were chased out the door and left dejectedly on their bikes.

Allen Zhang witnessed this scene and couldn’t help but admire the order in the West Coast.

Even the veteran gang members didn’t dare to mess with this custom shop. They really were somebody, and so he realized it wouldn’t be easy to get the money from them.

He left, flattening his drink can and stashing it in his pocket.

Two blocks away, he saw a few Black people sitting by the road, smoking weed, motorcycles parked aside, looking glum.

"Fxxk! Little Kizz, why did you hide the money in the brake pad and not tell us earlier?" The Black guys accused him of going behind their backs, and now that trouble arose, they remembered their brothers.

"I didn’t expect those old brake pads to be sold." Little Kizz was numb, hands on his head, "If our boss finds out, I’m dead for sure! Even if it’s not found, we won’t be able to recover that money."

"It’s not necessarily a lost cause. We just need to find the car afterwards, steal the tires, and we’ll get the money hidden inside," a Black guy suggested, "Now we just need to figure out who owns the car and then plan our move. 5000 US Dollars, enough for us to split..."

"Hey! What are you looking at?" The Black turned his head, spotting Allen Zhang passing by, and warned him, "Get out of here, understand? We’re gang members."

Allen Zhang waved his hand, pretending to be an oblivious passerby and quickly left the street.

Listening to their ’flawless’ plan, Allen Zhang found it hilarious.

People who can afford cars worth tens of thousands of US Dollars, especially those getting service in a Black custom shop, either are in rap or must have some connections. Some street punks wanting to mess with their tires could end up shot dead on the street with 888 real bullets.

Their bullet count and body weight increased by 10 pounds!

Officer Mig was responsible for the Fifth District, it’s indeed difficult for a police officer to clean up the rugged environment of Zone 7 by crossing into another district.

Not so easy to handle, Allen Zhang pondered he should not get involved in their mess and wait for an opportunity, letting them fight amongst themselves first.

Returning to the Fifth Street tunnel headquarters, Dominic had just gotten up. The Beggar Gang Disciples were also preparing to hit the streets. Seeing Allen Zhang return, Dominic handed him 1000 US Dollars.

"It looks like you had a good time yesterday?"

"Where did you get that from?" Allen Zhang checked himself in the car’s mirror, feeling his face looked a bit pale. Olivia was indeed too addictive.

Dominic laughed, "Isn’t dating girls supposed to be enjoyable?"

"That’s because you haven’t met a girl with huge appetites. She’s like a ravenous wolf, practically devouring you to the bone!" Allen Zhang glanced at Jenny, still asleep, the typical example.

He wondered if he needed to restrain himself a bit.

Looking at Dominic’s handsome face, Allen Zhang was puzzled, "You’ve got some money, you’re this good-looking, why haven’t girls hit on you? Don’t you have a girlfriend?"

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