America: The Gear-Up Detective

Just after midnight, Rod put down his phone and immediately opened the system store.

However, the items that appeared in the system shop disappointed Rhodes.

System Shop:

1. Blind boxes: Guess what's inside? You can't go wrong buying them, you can't be cheated...maybe.

Price: 1500 experience points

2. Equipment slot *1

Price: 1000 experience points

3. Exchange: Exchange US dollars for experience points, 100 US dollars = 1 experience point.

Refreshing the shop costs 1000 experience points; the daily refresh limit is 1.

Rhodes currently only has a little over a thousand experience points, and he subconsciously analyzes the three items in the system shop.

As before, I won't consider blind boxes until I have enough experience points.

This time, the exchange function has been updated. Last time it was experience points to exchange for US dollars, and this time it's US dollars to exchange for experience points. Unfortunately, the exchange rate is too high.

One hundred US dollars can be exchanged for one experience point.

Rhodes' entire fortune is only a little over 10,000. Even if he exchanged it all, he would only get 100 experience points, just enough to upgrade a level 1 skill to level 2. It's really a useless investment.

"When will I accidentally catch a drug dealer, then accidentally discover millions of dollars in unspent black money, and then accidentally exchange it for experience points?!" Rhode thought helplessly, looking at the refreshed exchange rate, then tried to find some humor in the situation.

"Looks like the only option is the equipment slot. It's alright, having fewer things to buy has its advantages; at least I don't have to suffer from decision paralysis."

Rhodes wasn't in a hurry to exchange for it. Anyway, his equipment slots were in the shop all week and wouldn't disappear. Besides, he didn't have any equipment to equip yet.

After thinking for a while, Rod fell into a deep sleep, and nothing more was said that night.

The following Tuesday morning.

Rod deliberately turned off his alarm last night, hoping to get a good night's sleep.

Unfortunately, he forgot that there was a flying biological alarm clock on his grandfather's ranch: a house finches of red feathers on its chest, which was chirping by Rhodes' window early in the morning.

"Fuck! I'm looking for a house in a bird-free neighborhood!" Rod got out of bed, looking resentful.

But actually, with the improvement in his physical condition these past few times, Rod has been sleeping very well at night, sleeping through the night, and waking up in the morning feeling refreshed.

I'm just staying in bed now.

After a quick wash, Rod went downstairs to the living room.

Grandpa Edgar was limping towards the door when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He turned to look at Rhodes, who was coming down, and said with a smile, "Rhodes, why are you up so early today?"

Rod shrugged, looking helpless. "I don't have to set my own alarm every morning; someone will wake me up."

Edgar knew what Rhodes was talking about and chuckled as he defended Suzaku of the American family.

They all said things like, "The American house jacana has a beautiful call," or "It looks very pretty."

Rhodes ignored Edgar's teasing. He had lived here for decades and was used to the sound. He woke up every morning to the call of the American Vermilion Bird, just like getting up at the first crow of the rooster.

Rod made breakfast for himself and his grandfather: simple toast with bacon and fried eggs, plus a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

After finishing his meal, Luo De glanced at the time and realized it was only around 8:30. Although he had arranged to meet Liu Qingxi today, Luo De figured that the girl probably wouldn't get up so early, so he decided to go to the gym to work out and improve his physique.

......

In a Black community in South Los Angeles.

early morning.

Inside a single-story house.

Jackson was still asleep, and the redness and swelling on his face had subsided somewhat.

Beside him, a Black woman with thick lips sat up from the bed, picked up her clothes scattered on the floor, and slowly put them on.

He then glanced at Jackson and tiptoed out of the room.

A gentle breeze occasionally blew through the Los Angeles morning. Queenie Ward, still dressed in the same light and breezy outfit as last night, felt a slight chill. She pulled her tank top tighter and rubbed her arms together, trying to warm them up.

Queenie walked along the streets of the neighborhood in the early morning; there were hardly any people to be seen on either side of the street.

Recalling last night's conflict, Queenie cursed under her breath, "That damn Darian, he's just a simple-minded, muscle-bound beast. I should never have messed with him. None of these gangsters are any good!"

Then, recalling Jackson's performance last night, a slight smile appeared on her lips. "Luckily, this time it was a policeman, and he's in good physical condition. Otherwise, should we have settled down with this honest guy?"

Queenie walked slowly, occasionally glancing at the surrounding community and secretly calculating Jackson's income.

As she walked down a secluded path, Queenie suddenly heard the roar of a car engine behind her. She instinctively dodged to the side and then turned to look behind her.

A black pickup truck suddenly stopped not far behind Queenie. Queenie looked at the familiar pickup truck, and before she could react, a burly, muscular black man named Darian Weaver, with a large gold chain around his neck, got out of the truck and stared coldly at Queenie.

Queenie instinctively took two steps back, her voice trembling as she asked, "Darian... what exactly do you want?"

"What do you want?" Darian asked coldly, staring blankly at Queenie. He said in a low voice, "You spend my money, eat my food, sleep in my bed, and now you think you can just walk away when you're done? There's no such thing as a free lunch."

As he spoke, he nodded slightly behind Queenie. Queenie sensed something was wrong and was about to turn around when a hood fell from the sky. Then, a sharp pain shot through her jaw, and she lost consciousness.

A tall, muscular Black man, supporting the unconscious Queenie, said to Darian, "Boss, she's taken care of. What about that black guy?"

Darian thought for a moment and said to his underlings, "Don't rush, teach this bitch a lesson first. Send someone to keep an eye on that little black guy."

The two dragged Queenie into the car, then sped away.

......

Achilles Gym.

Rhodes stepped off the treadmill, panting, and felt the changes in his body.

"After running 10 kilometers, although I was very tired, at least my legs don't feel weak anymore."

Rod walked to a stool, slowly sat down, patted his legs, and rested for a moment.

He then took out his phone, glanced at the time, and saw it was almost ten o'clock. After thinking for a moment, he sent a message to Liu Qingxi.

"Are you awake?"

No one replied.

Ten minutes later, there was still no reply.

Rod couldn't help but wonder if she couldn't bear the loss of her best friend and was having a mental breakdown.

Or did you encounter some kind of accident while staying in a hotel alone?

Lost in thought, Rod picked up his phone and made a call.

After a long ringing, just as Rod thought no one would answer and was about to get up to go to Liu Qingxi's hotel, the call was finally connected.

"Feed? Who is it?!"

A babyish voice, tinged with sleepiness and morning grumpiness, came through the receiver.