People in America: My Uncle Don Quixote

Levi glanced at the hesitant Craig and said in a deep voice, "Kill them, Craig!"

"what!"

Holy crap, bro, are you serious?

Craig was completely stunned. He had been engrossed in Jasmine's logical fallacy, but Levi's words startled him so much that he gasped. "Kill...kill them?" Craig stammered. "That...that wasn't necessary."

"Hahaha," Li Wei said with a laugh, "Don't be nervous."

"But seriously," he looked at the silent Marcus and the head-down Jasmine, then turned to Craig, "what do you want to do with them?" Craig was a kind-hearted kid. When he first met Levi (Chapter 56), it was because Jasmine wanted to cause trouble for Levi on his behalf that Craig forcibly stopped her. After punching Marcus in a moment of impulse, he calmed down and then didn't know what to do.

"I don't know..." Craig shook his head, his eyes filled with confusion. "To be honest, I feel really tired right now, I just want to go back and rest." "It's okay," Levi comforted him. "Leave this to me."

Three days later, at John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York, inside a closed, temperature-controlled hangar belonging to a private defense company.

A heavily customized and modified bulletproof Cadillac Escalade ESV is quietly parked on the weighbridge.

Next to it is a Boeing 747 cargo plane about to take off, bound for Salt Lake City, the capital of Utah.

Don Quixote is in his office, holding Google Translate while talking to the manager of a private defense company.

According to Mrs. Dolores, this is a private defense company that specializes in serving ultra-high-net-worth individuals from Eastern Europe and the Middle East. The owner and Mr. Sergei have an excellent personal relationship, so security and privacy are not a concern. Don Quixote, acting as an agent, intends to discuss a collaboration with them, perhaps for events requiring his presence. However, what troubles him is that the manager in front of him doesn't seem to speak very good English.

"Where did I come from? Is this still New York?" he asked the manager through a Russian translator. "Why do you only offer Russian and Arabic services?" "95% of our customers come from those two regions," the manager shrugged. "If you want English service, you have to call customer service first, and then we'll arrange an English translator." Don Quixote rubbed his temples in anguish and decided to give up on finding English customer service.

He began to miss the simultaneous interpreter he used when he discussed cross-border mergers and acquisitions.

He pressed the microphone icon on his phone screen again and spoke to Google Translate in as clear and articulate English as possible:

"Listen, buddy, let's skip the formalities. I'm here on behalf of my client to discuss a long-term security outsourcing contract. He—" He pointed to Levi standing next to the plane. The manager nodded. "He's a big shot. If we're going to, say, the West Coast, and become a sensation in Los Angeles, there will definitely be a lot of troublesome reporters. We need your professional team to help us handle the filming." The manager paused, then unconsciously sat up straight.

Don Quixote, assuming the other person understood, nodded with satisfaction and continued translating with the translator: "In this process, we need to ensure our plan is executed perfectly (execution, massacre) so that we can make a fortune in California (murder)."

A mechanical female voice, devoid of any emotion, played the Russian text.

The manager, who had been casually trimming his nails, straightened his back, glanced at Don Quixote with some admiration, and then solemnly spoke a few words to the translation software in Russian. Immediately afterward, the translated text appeared on Don Quixote's phone screen, accompanied by AI reading aloud:

"Bombing in Los Angeles next month? Shooting American journalists? Planning and carrying out a massacre in California? We need 300% of the high-risk allowance, and we'll only provide weapons, firearms, and manpower, not passenger planes for evacuation."

"Fuck!" Don Quixote was startled, and cold sweat instantly broke out on his back.

If this is intercepted by the FBI or NSA's surveillance systems, he and Li Wei will have to meet at Guantanamo Bay tomorrow.

"No, no, no, this damn translation software," Don Quixote hurriedly said, "I was just using a metaphor. He's a heavyweight star in the sports world (dropping a bombshell)." Unexpectedly, the manager's expression of awe deepened after hearing this. He took out his phone, searched on Yande (the Google of Eastern Europe), and then showed it to Don Quixote: "If you want to provide bombs," he said to the translation software, "do you want conventional C4 or a radioactive dirty bomb? Dirty bombs cost extra. Unfortunately, we haven't been able to get nuclear warheads from Russia since 1995." Don Quixote listened to the translation and looked at the smiling manager, almost suffocating.

"What's wrong?" Li Wei pushed open the door and entered. "Mr. Mamenov, the supplies I ordered have arrived. We can start checking and loading them." "Li Wei, quickly tell him," Don Quixote showed Li Wei the translation notes on his phone. "I don't know why, but the Google Translate Russian translation is completely different from what I expected." "Because Russian is quite difficult..." Li Wei took the phone and immediately laughed. After saying a few words to the manager, Mamenov, the man shrugged, raised an eyebrow, and burst into laughter. Li Wei laughed too and handed the phone back to Don Quixote. "Uncle, don't worry, he's just joking with you."

"Really?" Don Quixote looked at the beaming Mamenov and felt relieved.

Mamenov rose and followed Levy to take inventory of the carriage's contents. As they passed Don Quixote, he whispered in broken English, "This is no joke, if you need it."

He made a phone call gesture to himself and winked at Don Quixote.

Anya was fiddling with the satellite phone and antenna under the tutelage of Mrs. Dolores and Katya, checking the satellite communication link.

"Miss Anya, as your housekeeper, I must remind you," Katya said, "the maximum time I can accept is for the helicopter group to rappel within 30 minutes, and that's only because of Mr. Levy and the armored vehicles and weapons. If you cannot accept this, I will immediately inform Mr. Sergei."

“Okay, okay! Don’t tell my dad,” Anya said. “But at most, a helicopter, okay? I don’t want a convoy following us in our rearview mirror.” Meanwhile, Levi and Mamenov boarded the Cadillac Escalade and sat in the back, where the third-row seats had been removed and replaced with Maybach aviation massage seats. “First, tactical supplies,” Mamenov said, pulling open a side drawer and holding a list. “Two tactical medical kits for penetrating wounds…” “Wait,” Levi said, “we’re not going to the battlefield, why do we need tactical medical kits? And penetrating wounds?”

“Just in case, this is Ms. Katya’s request,” Mamenov shook his head and continued reading, “two licensed Staccato G2 tactical pistols,” he pressed two hidden compartments under the seat, “with 100 rounds of ammunition.”

He pressed a button on a hidden compartment in the ceiling: "Four vials of lentil antidote and four vials of rattlesnake venom serum, targeting the plants and snake venom over there." "Wait, there are only two of us, why four?" Levi asked. "Would we just let each of us get poisoned repeatedly for no reason?" "Just in case," Mamenov chuckled. "Giving them a chance to waste it, and besides, it's what Ms. Katya requested."

Finally, he pressed a control panel on the car door, looking at the 100% battery level: "A starting power supply with a peak current of up to 3000A." "Titanium alloy traction plate, dual-cylinder high-pressure vehicle air pump, Heimpnet camping tent..." Mamenov said as he took stock, "These are the essential supplies." But it didn't end there. In the seat space pulled out of the trunk, there were a full eight cases of Norwegian VOSS glass bottled water and four dozen Svabati polar glacial water, which were properly secured to shock absorbers. Along with them were Anya's favorite potato chips (three men holding chili peppers) and some high-calorie snacks and food.

In addition, there was Anya's own storage compartment, containing a full set of cosmetics, La Prairie skincare products and after-sun repair sets, a high-end desert soothing balm suitable for pregnant women/extremely sensitive skin, face masks, and other items. Then there were two large suitcases filled with various clothes, from dresses to hats, and even five pairs of shoes.

"That's all," Mamenov said, then suddenly seemed to remember something after finishing his inventory. "Where are your things?"

Li Wei silently pointed to a 20-inch suitcase containing his razor, three complete sets of clothes, two pairs of shoes, a charger, and that was it. "All done?" Anya walked over in a pair of white-soled casual shoes, casually taking Li Wei's arm, watching the Escalade being slowly pushed into the cargo hold of the Boeing 747. "I just checked, the weather in Salt Lake City tomorrow is great, perfect for a road trip."

Once everything was ready, Don Quixote, Katya, and the others saw Levi and his companion off to their private car at the airport terminal. During the ride, Levi continued recounting the aftermath of the Jasmine and Craig incident. "So you had your best friend spread the word throughout the entire campus and the university's social media?"

In the front row of business class, Anya took more than 10 selfies with Li Wei on her phone, carefully selecting photos while asking questions.

Looking at her, he wasn't entirely satisfied, because holding the phone himself made her face look huge. So he had Li Wei hold the phone and take a selfie from his angle. "Yes," Li Wei said as he took the picture, "now she's completely famous in her circle, everyone knows her story." Since Craig couldn't bring himself to do it, Li Wei could only choose the first method: completing the task by making Jasmine socially inept. "As for Marcus," he handed the phone back to Anya, "I spoke to Rubin, the owner of the Fanatics. He's been completely blacklisted by the American sports world. No legitimate sports agency, publisher, or brand dares to continue working with him. I heard that several NCAA athletes he cheated are preparing a joint appeal against him." It was precisely because of this that Li Wei's mental state improved smoothly from 2.8 to 2.9.

Now, with just 0.1 free attribute points left, I can upgrade to 3.0 and complete the evolution of Knight Silver Body (Transcendent)!