American Medicine: I survived the death knell thanks to the devil.

Chapter 446 The Trash in the Cabinet Can't Be Hidden Anymore

Three blocks away, across the freight rail tracks and several abandoned factory buildings, came a muffled thud as something struck sheet metal.

None of the nine groups of customers seemed to notice, and Cassie didn't hear it very clearly either.

The couple came to Cassie's side.

His wife asked her quietly, "How's the safety around here?"

"You can check the recent crime statistics for your area. Shootings are down by almost 80% compared to the same period last year."

The report makes it very clear.

Thanks to the vigorous efforts of the local police department, the crime rate at Cape Hunts has plummeted.

The reporter said the community was beginning to revitalize: land prices rose, and then the reporter said the revitalization was already effective. Whatever data comes in later, they can always continue writing this story.

Reporters simply wrote "The community has turned a corner." Crime was concentrated in the fenced-off area, which is why the crime rate outside decreased.

The couple stepped aside and discussed it in hushed tones.

Cassie had very sharp ears and heard everything clearly.

"Do you know why the crime rate has dropped so quickly?" the husband asked, with a hint of boasting.

"Why?" the wife asked.

The husband said, "I heard there are some big shots backing up Cape Henz, and they seem to be doing something special. Look at all these recent policy changes, it must be extraordinary. How could an ordinary person pull off something like this? Someone capable of this must have considerable influence, right?"

Will land prices continue to rise?

"Of course. If you buy it now and resell it later, you might even double your money."

As long as prices rise, people can find a thousand reasons to believe that they will continue to rise.

The couple felt that none of the other eight groups understood things as well as they did. They might know about the tolerance zone, or they might not; they simply treated matters involving important figures as "insider information" that they possessed.

They do know more than others, but any investigation—whether by journalists, members of Congress, or a federal investigation—can dismantle the AAA rating and see what's inside.

They didn't take this into account.

The faster you chase rising prices, the faster you sell them off.

We've started quoting prices.

Bruce sat down behind the folding table, and the nine groups handed over envelopes one after another. Cassie opened them one by one, arranging them according to the highest and lowest price.

it is good.

She took out the bottom three portions and pushed them aside.

"Thank you all for coming, these three groups."

The couple was the last to leave. The wife glanced back at the warehouse door as if looking at an unaffordable coat in a shop window.

Her husband put his arm around her shoulder and they went out the door. After walking a dozen steps, he was still looking back.

Although they had some inside information, financial strength is strength.

There are six groups left.

Cassie stood up. "Let's try a different approach. You all have fifteen minutes; you can change the price before midnight. The last price will be final. Please clearly write down the price, payment method, and earliest transfer time."

The female analyst from the real estate fund's expression changed. "This wasn't part of the agreed-upon procedure—"

If you can't accept this, you can leave.

Cassie smiled, a smile that was three parts politeness and seven parts indifference.

The female analyst stopped arguing; after all, it was a seller's market, and if they didn't buy, there were plenty of others who would.

The three groups of developers started making phone calls, and some even pulled out calculators and started typing away.

The cold chain logistics representative turned his back, lowered his voice, and asked headquarters what the maximum amount they could provide was.

Real estate funds were the quickest to act. The female analyst handed over a note; the offer was significantly higher than the first round.

The developer slammed a piece of paper on the table, overshadowing the fund's offer.

The cold chain logistics personnel rushed over, not even bothering to seal the envelope, and the price was increased again.

In the corner, the person who had remained silent stood up.

He was an independent investor, dressed in a bespoke suit, driving a black Range Rover, and didn't ask a single question during the property viewing. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his suit pocket and placed it on the table. The asking price was significantly higher.

The developer's face turned red. The engineer shook his head slightly; this price had far exceeded the initial estimate.

The boss no longer cares about the initial budget.

"I'll add more!" he roared, his face flushed, shouting an even higher number, which made the corrugated iron wall vibrate.

The logistics representative shoved the developer on the shoulder, and the developer grabbed him by the collar, the two of them almost face to face.

Bruce rushed over to pull the person away.

Cassie simply sipped her water and watched everything unfold before her.

In the distance, another dull thud came from the other side of the barbed wire fence. No one heard it. Everyone was busy scrambling for the land; the land was worth so much precisely because of those barbed wire fences.

Cassie waited until they finished arguing before speaking.

It's twelve o'clock.

All three people turned their heads at the same time.

"You're offering the highest price now. Cash only, or a loan?"

The developer paused for two seconds. "Part of it needs to be financed."

Cassie glanced at his offer again. It came with a condition: if the loan wasn't approved, the buyer could withdraw.

They were quick to offer a price, but if the bank felt the land wasn't worth that much, the entire deal could be stalled.

"Cash transactions can be completed within five business days."

Cassie turned to look at the investor who had spoken.

Then he flipped to the bank statement attached to the quote. The amount was sufficient, Bruce had verified it, and the money was already in the account.

"What about title and land surveys?" Cassie asked.

"My lawyer and environmental consultant have done their due diligence in advance, and the transfer documents are ready. Today we're just discussing the price."

Bruce had asked him for a whole bag of documents a few days ago, including whether there were any mortgages or taxes owed, whether there was any pollution in the past, and whether it would cost money to clean it up after taking over. He didn't miss a single thing.

He sat there silently today; it turns out he had already asked all the questions he needed to ask.

Cassie looked at him for five seconds, then gave a number that was significantly higher than his previous offer, but still lower than the developer's asking price.

"I'll accept this price on behalf of the owner, with the transfer of ownership in five days."

"make a deal."

The developer grabbed the document bag, tossed it aside, and kicked the metal door. The entire wall shook with a loud crash.

Bruce immediately called both lawyers.

Cassie leaned over, pointed to the date just written on the paper, and told him to pass on the message: Sign the formal contract and exchange it today, pay the remaining balance within five working days, and complete the transfer of ownership.

She only tightened the cap on her water bottle after the person on the other end of the phone agreed. The "deal" she'd just heard felt good, but she needed to wait until both parties had signed the contract and each received a copy before she could feel at ease.

PARKING LOT.

The engineer chased after him and grabbed the developer's boss.

The boss shook off his hand. "In another six months, that land will double in value! Is this girl desperate for money, or is she out of her mind? She's willing to sell land like this!"

On the other side, the couple sat in the car, and the husband punched the steering wheel.

"I should have asked for a higher price."

"If you don't have the ability, what can you use to report it to your superiors?"

He started the engine and glanced at the warehouse again in the rearview mirror: "Look again in a few months. Today's price is already cheap. With someone backing it up, how could it possibly drop?"

Everyone can find reasons to convince themselves to get on board quickly, and hopes that they can get on board.

Everyone at the entrance has left.

Bruce took out a business card from his suit pocket and respectfully handed it to Cassie. "Miss, you should really go into real estate. You're perfect for this job."

Cassie took the business card and glanced at it. "The profit margin in your line of work is too low."

Bruce was speechless for a moment and could only shake his head with a smile.

Just as Cassie was about to make a call, a person walked over from the street corner across from the warehouse.

He was in his flannel shirt, which was faded from washing, and the pattern on the soles of his work boots was almost worn away.

Frank Morris, the original owner of the warehouse.

His father had run a wholesale auto parts business here for thirty years. After the old man passed away, Frank took over, but didn't want to continue, so he put the warehouse up for sale. It remained on the market for two years, but the security situation at Cape Hendry scared away all the potential tenants.

The warehouse door has been locked for two years, yet the New York City property tax bills haven't been missed. Insurance has expired and needs renewal, the roof is damaged and needs repair, but not a single penny of rent has been collected.

He simply couldn't afford it, so he eventually sold the warehouse and the empty land together for a fraction of the price they had agreed on today.

He came again today, but he didn't have that much money left, so he couldn't afford to buy it.

He just wanted to come and see.

Frank stood at the entrance of the warehouse that once belonged to him, lit a cigarette, and his fingers trembled slightly.

Cassie didn't say anything.

At times like this, it's inappropriate to say anything.

She walked to the side and dialed Lynn's number.

"The buyer is confirmed, and the funds will be in your account within 5 days. I will then hand the contract over to Elena."

"Good, well done."

Lynn didn't ask Cassie how much she sold it for.

He believed that the little goblin would never let him down in this regard.

Cassie glanced towards the warehouse entrance. Frank was still squatting there, his cigarette half-burnt, a small wisp of ash clinging to his knees.

"Now that the house is settled, can you tell me why you decided to sell?"

"We'll talk about it when we get back."

Cassie hung up the phone.

On the day she bought it, everyone thought Lynn had gone mad.

On the day of the sale, everyone thought Cassie had gone mad.

Both times I was treated like a madman.

On the way here, she was still wondering why she was in such a hurry to sell when prices could clearly rise further.

I finally understand it today.

The buyers almost came to blows, all convinced that the land's value would continue to rise. The couple who bought it were right: they had powerful backers, and the restricted area wouldn't be closed anytime soon.

But who can guarantee how long "short time" will actually last?

Lynn never stakes her money on something in the "short term." The fact that he asked her to sell means he already sees that land prices are about to peak.

The trash in the cabinet is about to burst open.

When it comes to making money, we still have to look to Lynn!