My American magical life
Chapter 73 - 73 1 More Outrageous than Dressing the Statue of Liberty in a Bikini!

73: Chapter 1 More Outrageous than Dressing the Statue of Liberty in a Bikini!

73: Chapter 1 More Outrageous than Dressing the Statue of Liberty in a Bikini!

The collaboration had just begun, but it was already guaranteed to be a steady win.

The five thousand dollars might not seem like much, but in reality, it wasn’t a small amount.

Although Eris was an agent on the West Coast, the work he did involved hard labor, and after toiling away on each deal, the profit was just a few tens of thousands of dollars at best.

The clients he served were all various political candidates, each as crafty as a monkey; none of them would let him gain an advantage.

Even if some candidates lacked political sensitivity, without exception, they all had the kind of personality that counted every penny.

Such is the state of the nation; starting a business is tough.

Earning an income by running around and talking seemed feasible, even leading Eris to think about expanding his business.

Unfortunately, having hustled in America for many years, he knew the real situation of illegal immigrants all too well.

The majority of America’s illegal immigrants were poorer than beggars, most lacking any work skills, and quite a few couldn’t even speak English fluently.

This seemingly simple business had a strong element of non-reproducibility.

Those who needed it couldn’t afford it, and those who could afford it didn’t need it.

The mainstay of the civil servants’ business relied on the unlucky ones who got stuck in the regular procedures.

Eris’s petty deals were purely coincidental.

Not everyone could be as valuable as Cheng Daqi.

It was because he saw Cheng Daqi’s value that Eris was willing to help him make contacts,

From his few interactions with Cheng Daqi, Eris was quite sure that this Asian would make it big in America even without him, relying on his own abilities.

His presence at most only accelerated Cheng Daqi’s adaption to the American way, and couldn’t really be considered helping Cheng Daqi.

From the beginning, their relationship was that of collaborators.

Now, even if Eris had more power, he could only discuss matters through collaboration with Cheng Daqi.

Eris twice extended invitations, first with incentives and then with threats, both deftly blocked by Cheng Daqi.

“Boss, I’m back.”

The door to the studio was opened from the outside, and the burly Riel greeted Eris.

Without the slightest intention to exchange another word with the boss, Riel headed straight for the computer.

I’ve done the work you assigned; now it’s my time to rest.

The pushover worker, standing bold and firm in front of the boss through sheer competence.

“Wait, did you figure out where Chan lives?”

While staring at the screen and closely monitoring the Ethereum trends, Eris asked Riel.

Caught off-guard by the boss’s question, Riel was clearly taken by surprise.

You didn’t tell me to find out where Chan lives, did you?

Riel had encountered this many times; the boss had a lot of undeclared expectations when assigning tasks.

“Yes, he lives on Red Street.”

Realizing he might have messed up, Riel muttered a response, trying to bluff his way through.

He was the spitting image of a worker caught off-guard by a superior for incomplete work.

The dream chaser on the West Coast knew all about his subordinate’s nature, only regretting he hadn’t given clearer instructions beforehand.

As Eris had seen Cheng Daqi out the door, their exchange was sweet and joyous, making it awkward for him to directly tell Riel then and there.

As a result, Riel genuinely did not grasp his intentions.

Alas.

Noticing Riel, as usual, heartlessly launching a game, Eris wished all the more that he could have Cheng Daqi under his command.

Of course, Riel didn’t care what the boss thought; he was just there to work.

No matter how much Eris disapproved, he couldn’t just fire him.

Standing at two meters tall and weighing 300 pounds, laughing like he was going to eat you up was nothing, yet he only got paid four thousand dollars a month.

With that kind of money, Riel felt Eris had no right to demand that he do any work outside of bodyguarding too elegantly.

…..

On a weekend afternoon, to be honest, Sani wasn’t really in the mood for activities.

With the sun so lovely, wouldn’t it be nice to lay a blanket on the grass and take a nap?

Cheng Daqi’s message interrupted the sleep of the black girl; she wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth, pulled down her eye mask, and checked her phone.

‘Hang out with me later for a bit of drama.

I’ll bring the black dude who I beat up the other day, and he’ll apologize to you.

No matter how he apologizes, do not forgive him, OK?’

This was Cheng Daqi’s script.

Kernor, don’t blame me for not teaching you; it’s your fault that you can’t earn Sani’s forgiveness.

It’s got nothing to do with me.

We should all just earn dollars together, why resort to violence?

Cheng Daqi’s message was abrupt, leaving Sani a bit confused.

Why would that black guy apologize to me?

Why would Cheng prewarn me with a message?

And, why put on a show for that Kernor to see?

Her little head full of question marks, Sani truly couldn’t comprehend what her neighbor was up to.

In her eyes, many of Cheng Daqi’s actions carried an inscrutable sense of mystery.

For instance, a homeless man suddenly making videos that attracted a considerable following.

Despite being down and out, he managed to get the attention of a beautiful and wealthy b*tch.

Even though Sani didn’t like Lisa and loathed Temir, she had to admit, those two b*tches really were quite attractive.

What impressed her more was that Cheng had made a quick buck working with her for a day, then casually betrayed his country in a few relaxed sentences.

The carefree tone, the disdain for the price, it all made her wonder who truly was the American here.

Just how much do you love America?

She thought these antics had reached Cheng Daqi’s limit because they were outrageous enough.

But there’s always someone stronger; Cheng once again shattered Sani’s perceptions with his actions.

As an Asian, Cheng managed to make a black man apologize to him.

Beating a black man is not a big deal; there are plenty of pushovers among black people.

Many probably haven’t had a decent meal growing up, are skinny, not tall, and Sani herself could take them down in a fight.

Winning a verbal battle against a black man is also within human capabilities, since some black people may not be that streetwise, being raised in elite black families, living lives even more rigid than the most conservative white folks; they might not even swear, and could be virgin fliers till the age of eighteen.

But, bro, what you’re doing is really too much.

You’ve actually made a streetwise black guy apologize to me, a black girl!

This kind of move is as outrageous as dressing the Statue of Liberty in a pink bikini, going far beyond Sani’s decades of understanding America.

The name of this country is America, and Sani was born here, a black girl, hanging around the streets year-round.

She knows all too well how outrageous that is.

The greatest apology a street black person can muster is to extend their unwashed hand of several months, slightly open it, as a sign of regret.

That’s already the friendliest gesture in their impoverished and monotonous street social life.

One can only say that Sani lacks a bit of imagination, failing to imagine Cheng tearfully accepting Kernor’s three kowtows.

It’s still the same logic.

The accommodation of multiculturalism in America and the combination of human diversity truly possess limitless possibilities.

This country is large enough to create many different myths.

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