America: Starting with Daily Intelligence
Chapter 55 - 55 55 Car Graveyard

55: Chapter 55 Car Graveyard 55: Chapter 55 Car Graveyard Both parties didn’t dwell too much on the matter, after all, if the person involved doesn’t mind, Allen Zhang needn’t worry too much either—it’s Olivia and her boyfriend’s private affair.

Olivia was curious about why Allen Zhang was going out of town.

Allen Zhang also answered her: I’m going to check out a vintage motorhome from the 70s at the suburban car cemetery.

If possible, I’d like to buy it, bring it back, give it some maintenance, so I won’t have to live in a tent anymore.

If he could get more information like this in the future, he even considered venturing into a side business and getting involved in the trade of second-hand vehicles, once he had sufficient funds.

Although it would require initial capital investment, and possibly renting a space and recruiting staff, he believed that the income and market response in the medium to long term would certainly be quicker than collecting cans.

Olivia: A motorhome?

Quite an interesting idea.

But hasn’t Catherine contacted you recently?

Allen Zhang: No.

We are people from two different worlds, and we didn’t exchange contact information.

You should probably know what she’s been up to recently, right?

Olivia: Well, that’s a pity.

Her nightlife is indeed very rich.

What’s there to regret?

You’ve become addicted to threesomes, haven’t you?

They chatted a bit more.

Olivia said she was tired after pulling an all-nighter and was going to take a bath and sleep, and the conversation came to an end.

Not long after, the other side sent another message.

Allen Zhang opened it and, boy, it was another racy photo!

Damp auburn hair, steamy bathroom, seductive gaze, palm resting on the mirror, only the part big enough for one face was wiped clear, everything else was shrouded in mist, indistinct.

You know how to take a picture!

Allen Zhang: Beautiful, love looking at it.

Olivia: 🙂

The taxi stopped at a gas station, where a tattooed, bearded guy got out with a backpack.

The driver reminded him to pay the fare, the guy settled it online and left.

It was only a few minutes’ drive to the destination, and the vehicle continued its journey and soon stopped at an intersection.

“Sir, we’ve arrived.”

Through the taxi window, Allen Zhang saw the somewhat desolate suburbs, craggy rocks all around, covered with hillside shrubs, and next to it, a vast car cemetery.

What could be seen everywhere were piles upon piles of black tires and rust-spotted empty car frames.

All the good stuff and engines had basically been stripped already, leaving behind items of no value.

Car cemetery, a name well deserved.

Allen Zhang took out 24 US Dollars in cash to pay the taxi fare.

The base fare was 0.75 US Dollar, around 1 US Dollar per kilometer, even less, and tips were at his discretion.

He gave the driver a 2 US Dollar tip, which was quite reasonable.

He then proceeded to walk following the map’s directions, taking pauses, and after a few minutes down a man-made path, he saw a building surrounded by a wire fence with steel signs attached.

The signs were in English, worn and rusty from the elements.

Yet, it was clear that it was a business dealing with car modifications and recycling.

“Hey!

Anyone there?” Allen Zhang walked straight into the shop and shouted.

He also noticed screws, wrenches, greasy and dirty gloves scattered around the yard, as well as wheel hubs, tires, and a lift.

A door inside the building opened, and out came an unkempt, bearded and lanky man.

Bare-chested, wearing slippers.

With a languid air about him, he always seemed somewhat dispirited.

The man had a menthol cigarette in his mouth, looked at Allen Zhang in a daze, yawned, and said, “Welcome to Mike’s Modification Shop, I’m Mark, an employee here.

What can I do for you?”

Allen Zhang got straight to the point, “Hello, I heard that there’s a 1976 GMC motorhome here for sale at 200 US Dollars.

I’m quite interested, so I planned to come to take a look.”

“Here to buy a vehicle?

Where did you come from?” Mark looked surprised.

“From the city,” Allen Zhang replied.

Mark nodded, “You’re well-informed then.

I had just listed that vehicle to be sold a few days ago.”

Without further questions, he turned, took several photos of the vehicle from inside the building, handed them to Allen Zhang, and started to describe the condition of the vehicle.

He said, “Just to let you know upfront, that motorhome has been parked in the suburbs for over twenty years.

It’s an antique, a grandpa’s car, also a zombie car.

While it can be started, and the wiring isn’t too severely aged, and it does fire up, it’s been parked for so long, the parts have long been discontinued.

I can’t guarantee I can fix it completely—not that my skills are lacking, but because the focus is different nowadays.”

“Nowadays, it’s all about oil vehicles and new energy vehicles, where generators inside the engine compartments are only the size of a palm; maintenance and modifications aren’t difficult.

The motorhome uses a slide-out generator, as large as a tractor’s engine, with 6000W of power, fueled by a 190-liter gas tank.”

“The RV also features a tri-axle design, V8 engine, roughly 7.5 liters in displacement, with 265 horsepower and a weight of 9.8 tons, measuring 7 meters in length.

It comes equipped with cruise control, a front-wheel-drive chassis, high-end audio system, and air suspension.

Inside there are 9 seats and 3 beds, and on another side, it’s fitted with a 28-kilogram propane tank, enough for over a week’s use.

The water heater in the RV is also propane-heated.”

“The kitchen is equipped with a double stainless steel sink, a four-burner gas stove, and a large-capacity refrigerator.

At the rear is a large double bed, measuring 2×1.4 meters.”

Mark took a deep drag on his cigarette and casually flicked away the ash.

Allen Zhang nodded as he looked at the photos, it was a green GMC RV.

The colored photos and interior design seem to capture the essence and charm of that era – classic cars like this never go out of style even today.

He said, “Then take me to see it.”

Seeing Allen’s enthusiastic attitude and willingness to buy, Mark also went into the house to grab a short-sleeved shirt, casually pulling it over his head, and gestured, “Follow me.”

Allen followed him out of the shop, walked for a few minutes, and arrived at a back yard with a shelter.

The large iron gate was still closed.

Mark pulled out a bunch of keys, unlocked it, and the clinking of the chains was met with the immediate sound of barking from within.

Mark scolded through the gate, and the dogs stopped barking.

As they pushed the door open and entered, they saw a shiny silver Ford Mustang in the yard, along with two lively and playful bulldogs.

The two dogs, drooling, came up wagging their tails, circling around the men and sniffing at Allen’s pant legs.

“I like these two dogs,” Allen Zhang bent down to pat their heads and felt their well-developed muscles, their skin and fur so sleek and shiny.

“Not for sale,” Mark replied lazily, showing a very distinctive way of speaking and doing things.

Allen spread his hands, “Mate, I didn’t say I wanted to buy them.

Just think it’s a pity for such nice dogs to just be guarding the door here.”

“You’re not a dog, how would you know if they don’t enjoy guarding the door here?”

Mark retorted with a sly comment.

“You’ve got a point…”

Allen Zhang was somewhat speechless; this guy was prickly and probably wasn’t the most emotionally intelligent.

Wondering if this was because he’d been living out in the suburbs too long without much contact with people.

Are all the people outside like this?

Mark started the Mustang, drove it outside the yard, and then got out to lock the gate again.

He explained, “The place where the RV is parked is a bit remote, in another car sales yard.

We need to drive there, but don’t worry, it’s just a fifteen-minute ride.”

“No problem.” Allen Zhang and the two bulldogs also got into the car.

The Ford Mustang roared to life, and with a buzz, it shot forward.

Sitting in the back seat, Allen suddenly felt the thrust; damn, this car’s engine was definitely heavily modified!

The pushback was even stronger than that of a sports car.

On the way there, they passed another car modification shop.

Through the wire fence, they saw a fat man with a beard, wearing overalls, repairing a car with a cigarette in his mouth.

Mark rolled down the window and stepped on the brake, and Allen thought he was about to greet someone.

But to his surprise, Mark built up a thick wad of phlegm in his mouth, looked through the window, “he〜tui!!”

“Fxxk you!!

Bobby!!”

He threw up a fierce middle finger towards the fat man, and let out a ‘friendly’ greeting.

“Fxxk you too!!

Mark!!”

The fat man, burning with anger, looked up at Mark in the car and without a second word, hurled a wrench at the Mustang.

With a crash, it hit the car’s roof, and the rear window glass of the Mustang shattered on the spot.

Allen Zhang was shocked, what the hell?

Is this how people in the suburbs greet each other?

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