America: The neighbor's wife is so incredibly hospitable!

Nine o'clock in the morning.

Chen An brought fresh wasabi and the bottle of underground river water that had been offered as tribute to the Aurora Restaurant once again.

This time, Katie didn't even let him into the kitchen; instead, she pulled him directly into an empty private room.

"Shh! Keep your voice down!"

The silver-haired girl seemed a bit neurotic. She glanced nervously at the door and then lowered her voice.

"Chen, you'd better be careful these next few days."

"What? Did my wasabi make someone sick?" Chen An put the goods on the table.

"It's not about wasabi! It's about those... those strange people."

Katie's cute little face was filled with worry.

"Last night, a few men wearing leather jackets and riding Harley-Davidson motorcycles came here to eat."

"They reeked of cigarettes and their arms were covered in tattoos."

"While they were eating, they kept asking about 'that Chinese kid who grows mushrooms'."

Chen An's pupils contracted slightly.

Motorbike party.

Smith moved faster than expected.

In the United States at that time, these motorcycle gangs that operated in the gray area were essentially cheap mercenaries.

They take money to do things like harassment, arson, and assault. As long as no one dies, it's difficult for the police to find any evidence against them.

"What did they ask?" Chen An asked.

"They'll ask where you live and what kind of car you usually drive." Katie bit her lip.

"I...I had Louis lie to them and say you lived on the other side of the dam."

"But this town is only so big, they'll find your farm sooner or later."

After she finished speaking, she took an envelope out of her pocket.

"This is today's payment, plus the previous ones. It's a total of three thousand US dollars."

Katie stuffed the money into Chen An's hand.

"Take the money, or... why don't you go to Seattle and hide for a couple of days?"

Looking at this girl who was clearly just a business partner but cared so much about him, Chen An felt a warm current flow through his heart.

"Hide? My land is there, my woman... cough, my neighbors are there too."

Chen An put away the money and ruffled Katie's messy silver hair.

"Thanks, Katie. This information is more valuable than money. However, I'm not planning on running away."

"Are you an idiot! There are more than a dozen of them!" Katie angrily slapped his hand away.

"Having more than a dozen people is indeed quite troublesome."

Chen An stroked his chin, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

"But if you come to my farm...that's a different story."

Private property is sacred and inviolable.

In the Wild West, if it's just a fight, then it's all about who has the bigger fist.

But if it falls under the category of "trespassing and being aggressive," then it comes down to who has more guns.

………………

After leaving the restaurant, Chen An did not go home.

He went to an outdoor equipment store in town.

He bought two home wireless surveillance cameras, several boxes of high-powered 12-gauge shotgun shells, and a roll of thin steel wire for pulling ropes.

Want to join a biker gang?

Then I'll give you a lesson on jungle guerrilla warfare.

One o'clock in the afternoon.

Chen An drove back to the farm.

As soon as he turned into that iconic bend, he saw that his already rickety wooden door had been pushed over.

Several messy, wide motorcycle tire tracks were clearly imprinted in the soil.

They circled the dilapidated wooden house several times, trampling down a patch of weeds and even leaving a disgusting puddle of engine oil on the steps in front of the door.

This is a demonstration.

It was as if they were telling Chen An: We've been here, and we'll come back anytime.

Chen An watched all of this with a blank expression.

He got out of the car and checked the door locks.

Thankfully, they didn't go inside. Probably because it was daytime, or maybe they wanted to play a game of cat and mouse first.

He looked towards Sarah's house next door.

Sarah's house had its doors and windows tightly shut, and the curtains were drawn tightly.

Chen An dialed Sarah's number.

"Hey? Ann! You're finally back!" Sarah's voice was choked with tears on the other end of the phone.

"Just now, a group of people... they rode around your house on motorcycles, shouting and yelling, throwing beer bottles... I was terrified and didn't dare to go out."

"That's right. Don't come out."

Chen An stared coldly at the tire tracks on the ground.

"Take the children to the second floor tonight. No matter what noise you hear, don't turn on the lights or go downstairs."

"Ann, what are you going to do?" Sarah sensed the murderous intent in his tone.

"It's nothing." Chen An took out a newly bought slug from his pocket and tossed it in his hand.

"It's just preparation for hunting."

………………

Night falls.

There's no moon tonight, and it's very windy.

Chen An did not turn on the light.

He sat in front of the small skylight in the attic on the second floor.

The view here is expansive, overlooking the gravel road that leads to the farm.

M1911 is placed on the left.

A double-barreled shotgun was mounted at the window, its two dark barrels pointing into the darkness.

In the afternoon, he had already set up two tripwires on the only road.

It wasn't to hurt anyone, but to slow down the car.

Meanwhile, he installed cameras on several hidden tree trunks, and the footage was connected to his phone.

It's 11 p.m.

"Buzzing—"

A rumble of engine noise, like muffled thunder, came from the distant highway.

Not just one vehicle, but a whole group.

Chen An glanced at his phone screen.

In the darkness, seven or eight blinding beams of light tore through the night.

The group of motorcyclists, like a pack of wolves that had smelled blood, roared and charged into the side road that belonged to private property.

"They're here."

Chen An pulled down the hammer of his shotgun.

The leader was a burly man wearing a half-covered helmet, riding a modified Harley.

The noise from the exhaust pipe was a nuisance in the quiet farm.

They stopped in the open space in front of Chen An's house and formed a circle.

He started revving the engine wildly, the ear-piercing engine noise even drowning out the sound of the wind.

"Hey! You yellow-skinned kid inside! Come out!"

The burly man in the lead brandished a baseball bat and slammed it hard against the innocent mailbox by the door.

"Clang!"

The mailbox flew out.

"I heard you're quite bold? You don't even give Mr. Smith face?"

"Tonight we'll tear down this dilapidated house for you and see if your bones are as tough as this wood!"

Other bikers joined in the commotion, some even pulling out Molotov cocktails from their pockets.

That's their method.

Intimidation, vandalism, arson, creating fear.

In the attic.

Chen An coldly watched the farce unfolding below.

Seven people.

Five baseball bats and two chains.

No guns have been seen yet.

well.

Chen An didn't speak, but silently aimed the M1911 at the front tire of the leader's beloved Harley motorcycle.

To catch a thief, first catch his king; to shoot a man, first shoot his horse.

"Bang!"

A crisp gunshot instantly drowned out the roar of all the motorcycles.

That was the distinctive popping sound of a .45 caliber pistol.

next second.

"Pfft—Sizzle—!"