America: Starting with Daily Intelligence
Chapter 153 - 127: Picking Up Bargains and Selling

Chapter 153: Chapter 127: Picking Up Bargains and Selling

Allen Zhang got up immediately, freshened up, took out some ingredients from the fridge, and personally cooked a hearty breakfast including bacon, fried eggs, sausages, and milk.

When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

Not having much of an appetite, he ate just a little.

Opening the window, the tempting scent of food wafted out. Allen greeted Dave, who was getting ready for work. Sieg was also steadfastly keeping up with his daily exercise, passing by the RV back and forth.

Allen couldn’t stand watching anymore, so he simply invited him over for a meal.

"Alright," Sieg chuckled.

"I haven’t even begun to talk to you about yesterday," Dominic said irritably.

"What happened? What went on yesterday?" Sieg feigned ignorance.

Seeing him play dumb, Dominic didn’t want to bring it up again, to avoid seeming like a sore loser in cards.

Jennifer also woke up, unusually early, and the four of them had a simple breakfast at the dining table.

During the meal, she actively fed Allen, and he couldn’t really refuse, passively lying back and enjoying the moment. Before the meal was even over, watching them was enough to fill Dominic with speechlessness.

Sieg was straightforward, turning a deaf ear to anything outside the window and focusing solely on eating.

Putting his head down just to eat.

After the meal, they took turns washing the dishes and neatly arranged them in the cabinet. Allen took out his cell phone and glanced at a message sent by Mary.

Mary: Good news, the new boss is indeed a criminal, and that gang has been arrested. Bad news, the bar didn’t even open for business before it shut down, I’m out of a job now!

Allen: What about my garbage truck? And have you thought about what kind of job you want to find?

Mary: The bar has been seized by the police and the court, and the installations were taken away. Except for the garbage truck, it might be sold cheap at a court auction. Guise and I have saved some money over the years, and we are quite attached to this bar, rather than working somewhere else, we might try becoming our own bosses. We may go to the court and try to bid at the auction, and if we can get the bar, we could officially run it!

Allen: That’s actually not a bad idea, what’s the starting bid for Sunkist Bar?

Mary: We don’t know yet, but it should start at 1 US Dollar, with a deposit of one thousand dollars. If the price goes over 50,000 US dollars, we definitely cannot afford it. If the price stays below 50,000, borrowing money from the bank and paying in installments might be possible. We still don’t have enough money, Hanberger, do you want to invest?

Allen: I do have some spare cash, and I don’t know what else to do with it. Buying this bar would give me a legitimate business. But it seems like it might not be very profitable, and I don’t want to get involved in any illegal street business.

Mary: You can leave the management to me and Guise, we can partner up to buy it. If you can put in twenty thousand dollars in cash, then you’ll be a major shareholder of the bar!

Allen was indeed interested in the bar business, but he had never run a business before and didn’t have much experience in that area, nor could he be sure of the auction price. He could only advise Mary not to pin all her hopes on this bar, as it’s very easy to go bankrupt these days.

Mary was also sensible, just wanted to try her hand at being a boss, and if it didn’t work out, she would continue working for others. There could be a chance for a turnaround by trying, but no chance at all without trying.

Allen put away his phone, greeted his camping buddies, drove his pickup truck to the suburban vehicle scrap recycling center, taking advantage of the gang members not yet reacting, to cash in on that 5,000 US dollars.

The journey was smooth and unobstructed, and without any police inspection out of the city, it took twenty minutes to reach Tucker Motorcycle Processing Center.

It seemed like no one was doing business early in the morning, with only a few people from a custom shop trying to recover screws and spark plugs, the area was filled with scrapped motorcycles, not much of value, and it couldn’t compare to the scale of Mike’s largest recycling center.

Allen parked his pickup truck by the roadside, pushed open the chain-link fence gate, and walked in.

"Hey man, do you know if a bright orange Chevrolet scrap car was brought in yesterday?" Allen asked a white guy who was engrossed in dismantling a carburetor.

Beside him was a green toolbox, and the pickup truck he was dismantling had a smashed face, even the engine was gutted.

The car’s glass was shattered, the incomplete A-pillar and the airbag had blood stains, the scene of the accident must have been horrific! Who knows how many soul rings this car had.

The guy looked up at Allen, pointed in a direction, "All those are scrap cars brought in yesterday, we get at least five to six a day, sometimes even more than a dozen, and parts are something we are never short of. But man, you’re actually looking for a car from yesterday? You know you’re late, right? Many people have been staying here, and that car has likely been completely stripped by now."

"I’m not in your line of work," Allen didn’t explain much.

"Then no problem," the greasy-faced white guy nodded and kept his head down, continuing his dismantling work.

Allen walked in the direction he pointed, and soon found the Bumblebee in a pile of dismantled parts and frames.