Wandering America: My kill threshold is far ahead

After hearing Ma Jieke's proposal, the Blood Gang collectively broke down their defenses.

From 7 PM to 7 AM? Do you think we're mice?

Given the poor neighborhood's security situation, nobody dares to go out after dark.

After sweeping through the homeless and the municipal garbage trucks, what's left in the treasure chest? You'd be lucky to find even a single piece of toilet paper.

Fine, since you're not going to leave me a way out, then let's do it!

Hansen King wouldn't dare to shoot someone; the main purpose of this thing is deterrence. After all, if you have a gun and the other person has a gun, it's easy to die together.

As a result, no one knows who started it, but an ultimate street brawl involving hundreds of players was launched in a spectacular fashion.

To outsiders, they seem like a bunch of lunatics. Is it really worth it to fight over a few trash cans?

But in the eyes of these scavengers, it's not a trash can, but their livelihood.

Although the earnings are not much, it's easy. Every day, I just squat there, wait for the resources to refresh, harvest a batch at the appointed time, and then come back the next day.

There are no demanding clients, no difficult customers, no time limits, and you can even occasionally find rare items.

Tell me, how many jobs in this world are easier than this?

The battle escalated, and a brawl involving hundreds of people is no joke; it could easily result in death, not to mention injuries and bloodshed.

As the fight went on, a few random random players suddenly appeared out of nowhere and started attacking the Blood Gang from behind.

This group of people are all veteran fighters, and their fighting styles are incredibly diverse, ranging from flashy Brazilian Capoeira and Mexican wrestling to more practical, close-quarters combat styles like Muay Thai, Jiu-Jitsu, and Karate.

"Jack, it looks like those guys from the Fighting League."

"Look, that Mexican wrestler who lost to you, Juan López."

Jimmy, with his sharp eyes, immediately recognized that this was no ordinary passerby.

"See? I called them to come and help."

Ma Jie gave a wicked smile and kicked one of the black men in the stomach.

Before launching the all-out attack, he posted a job request in the Fighting League's group chat, a paid one.

Then they enabled location sharing, making it easy for Juan and his group to find themselves.

As for how to distinguish between friendly forces and enemies, it's very simple: just attack anyone you see who looks like a rapper or someone with black hair.

This is their signature attire. They are a predominantly Black organization that loves to play gangsta rap and are all heavily addicted to the "Shu Lai Bao" (a type of folk song).

With the arrival of divine soldiers, the previously tense battle situation took a sharp turn for the worse.

Just kidding, these are all guys who risk their lives in underground boxing matches. Beating up a few ordinary people like you is nothing to them.

To catch the thief, first catch the king. Taking advantage of the enemy's disarray, Ma Jack charged straight at Blood Gang leader Hansen King.

However, this guy clearly had some training, successfully blocking his flying straight punch. In close combat, they fought back and forth.

But soon Hansen King began to feel something was wrong, because Majad's punching speed was getting faster and faster, which was not a normal frequency.

Little did he know that this was a buff from stacking up the Relentless Combo. For a normal person, increasing punch speed by 1.5 times is an absolute bug-level bonus.

Sure enough, he couldn't hold on in the end and was hit in the temple by Ma Jieke's right hook. His brain was like it was boiling, pounding wildly and completely out of control.

He lost his balance and stumbled backward, crashing into a trash can. He even saw double.

Ma Jie quickly followed, riding on his back and transforming into Ip Man, banging his fists at his face like a machine gun.

"Stop! Stop! I surrender!"

Knowing he was no match for him, Hansen King held his head and helplessly raised the white flag. His strength was overwhelming; what could he do if he disagreed?

With the leader gone, the others lost their will to live. Some ran away, others fled, and the group scattered like monkeys when the tree fell. Only a few die-hards remained, unwilling to leave.

"Listen to me, nigger, say something I want to hear, or I'll beat you to a pulp."

Ma Jieke wouldn't force anyone. You have a reason to surrender, but if you say anything wrong, well, what's the 911 number again?

Hansen King carefully considered his words before cautiously speaking, "From now on, all three blocks of Skid Row are yours."

"Anything else?"

"And...what else?"

A hard slap across the face is really torturous: "Think for yourself."

"OK, OK, I'm disbanding the gang and leaving Los Angeles to go back to New York."

"Very good." Having gotten the answer he wanted, Ma Jie looked at him with a terrifying gaze: "You better keep your word and don't have any illusions. If I see you on the street, you know what will happen."

"I understand, I understand. Can I go now?" Faced with someone's death stare, Hansen King was terrified and just wanted to escape as quickly as possible.

"Wait a minute, let me see your gun."

The guy was so scared he didn't dare utter a sound and presented it respectfully.

Ma Jieke looked at it over and over, but still couldn't figure it out.

According to the skill description, American Iaijutsu mainly improves draw speed and shooting accuracy, with little improvement in firearms knowledge. It is estimated that there are specialized skills for this, such as "Arms Expert".

He had no choice but to hand it to Sandy next to him to ask for the specific model. The latter took it and, after handling it, casually said, "This is a Ghost Gun, a copy of the Belgian-made FN Five-Seven. Its features are a high rate of fire, a compact size, easy to carry, a magazine capacity of 20 rounds, and decent quality. It's definitely enough for self-defense."

"What does 'ghost gun' mean?" Ma Jie was a little confused. He did know what a black gun was, the kind whose serial number had been erased.

"These are guns assembled by individuals using parts purchased online, without federal government permission, and cannot be tracked."

Wow... No wonder it's the US server. Buying finished guns is illegal, but buying spare parts is fine. The version is a hundred years ahead.

"Buddy, don't you know it's illegal to possess a gun that isn't authorized by the federal government?" MaJack put his hand on Hansen King's shoulder and said earnestly, "For your safety, I'm confiscating it this time. Don't do it again next time. Hurry up and go, while you can still buy a ticket to New York."

Hansen King was so angry his face turned black, but he was helpless. He described the robbery in such a fresh and elegant way that no one else could do it.

Amid cheers and jubilation, Ma Jieke announced the success of the Northern Expedition and settled the appearance fees of the temporary mercenaries in person.

I did this to show everyone that I contributed manpower, money, and effort; even if I didn't achieve anything, I still put in the hard work, right? How do you plan to repay me?

As the nominal leader, Max realized something. After sending most of his men out to mark the territories, he randomly found an inconspicuous coffee shop on a street corner and invited MaJack to sit down and talk.

"An iced Americano," Ma Jieke said to the waiter, sitting on a black wooden chair outside the cafe.

As a special guest, Jimmy didn't hold back: "I'll have a cappuccino and an egg and bacon sandwich, and oh yeah, a vanilla ice cream too."

"Italian espresso and hazelnut cake, thank you."

Sandy was the one who ordered this time. The two of them, like a little fanboy and a little fangirl, instinctively sat down next to someone.

Max's eyes were filled with complex emotions, and he even felt like wielding a knife. "You've only been here a few days, and you've already turned everyone against you?"