An American knife seller? No, please acknowledge me as your godfather.

Ten minutes later.

The sounds of gratitude and praise gradually subsided.

at the same time.

Mike immediately went to the front of the car to report:

"Boss, the perks are all gone. Those guys are more devout to you than to God now."

Mike respectfully opened the car door, lowered his voice and chuckled, "Now it's time to get down to business, a client is already waiting."

"Um."

Lynn stubbed out his cigarette and calmly got out of the car.

Their eyes met in the air, and they exchanged a knowing smile.

"What's going on?" Lynn asked casually, his hands in his pockets.

"It's another dislocated shoulder, similar to those two unlucky guys from yesterday."

Mike led the way while reporting, "That guy's been waiting for ages."

Lynn nodded slightly.

Given current medical conditions, treating dislocations is the most appropriate treatment.

No medication is needed, only manual techniques.

It can be said that it is extremely profitable.

Soon, the two arrived at the medical tent again.

This time, Lynn noticed.

Outside the tent, two burly black men with fierce faces stood on either side, even playing with baseball bats in their hands.

Noticing Lynn's gaze, Mike quickly stepped forward to explain:

"Boss, there are too many dirty rats in the slums. I'm afraid they'll take advantage of the chaos to sneak into your private clinic and dirty your territory."

Lynn didn't speak, but simply nodded approvingly.

Old Mike's thoughtfulness is far ahead of his peers.

He even wondered how Mike had ended up in this situation.

But upon closer reflection, he vaguely understood something.

Such a meticulous and intelligent Black man, if he didn't smoke freckles, play sports, or join gangs.

There is absolutely no way for them to gain a foothold in the Black community.

wow-

As Mike lifted the tent flap, Lynn's eyes lit up.

The tent is no different from yesterday's.

But in the corner, there was an unusual second-hand glass medicine cabinet that had been moved from somewhere.

The top was densely packed with boxes of various medicines.

In addition to veterinary antibiotics and anti-inflammatory drugs, there are even many high-end painkillers that can be used as hard currency on the black market.

It's not fentanyl, of course, but ibuprofen.

After glancing at it briefly, a hint of surprise flashed in Lynn's eyes.

Too many! Absolutely too many!

Even if Mike's phone didn't cost money.

The value of these medicines far exceeded the $200 he casually tossed to Mike.

"Did you go on a free shopping spree?"

Lynn turned her head to the side, her tone revealing neither joy nor anger.

"Yes...yes!"

Mike thought Lynn was praising his efficiency, and immediately beamed, wanting to take credit: "I figured you'd need more medicine for your big project, so last night I personally led a team to the pharmacy on the corner..."

Mike suddenly stopped talking halfway through his sentence.

Because he noticed that Lynn's brows had been furrowed at some point, and a chilling glint had even appeared in his eyes.

Mike's smile vanished instantly, and cold sweat broke out on his face.

He shrank back, muttering like a student who had made a mistake, "Boss... if you think this is wrong, I will definitely quit..."

"No."

Lynn interrupted, "What I mean is, you shouldn't do these dirty jobs yourself anymore."

Lynn casually picked up a box of painkillers, his tone calm yet exuding an undeniable authority:

"This kind of low-level zero-dollar purchase is too risky. You're my right-hand man now, and you're also my representative in managing this neighborhood. If something happens to you and you get into trouble, who will take care of things for me?"

"If you need anything in the future, just have your underlings do it. Just give them some money, and you know what to do."

boom!

Upon hearing the words "left and right arms," ​​Mike's body trembled violently.

He had assumed Lynn was about to reprimand him.

I never expected that they were concerned about his safety.

This is the first time in his life that someone has trusted him so much!

Mike's eyes reddened, and he almost burst into tears on the spot.

[Thanksgiving +10]

"Don't worry, Boss!"

Mike suddenly stood up straight, his eyes filled with fanaticism: "They all know the rules! Going to the detention center means they're fed and don't freeze, it's practically like going on vacation to Hawaii!"

"Um."

Lynn nodded slightly and began to impart her experience:

"Also, don't get caught up in the same problem. Don't frequent the same pharmacy or supermarket. Try to expand your sourcing to other neighborhoods."

"Let's set a rule: for each store, we can only go a maximum of twice a month. That's how we can ensure a steady stream of business."

Mike was stunned by the extremely professional zero-dollar purchase tactic.

His eyes were filled with awe and reverence!

"Boss! You're absolutely amazing! You were born for this... Oh no, no, no!"

Realizing he'd misspoke, Mike immediately slapped himself repeatedly: "I meant, I thought we'd done this before... no, no!"

"Alright, stop flattering me, bring them in."

Lynn found a white coat and put it on, instantly transforming himself into a doctor.

"Okay!"

Mike nodded vigorously, turned around, lifted the curtain, and went out.

Less than half a minute.

Mike then led a young white man in.

The young man was wearing a dirty hoodie and had a very conspicuous skull tattoo around his neck.

His eyes were sunken, and his pupils were darting around unconsciously.

His whole body reeked of a sour, foul odor that had been pickled in cheap marijuana and fentanyl for years.

As soon as he entered, the tattooed man's shifty gaze fell on Lynn.

He was visibly stunned when he saw Lynn.

They seemed completely unprepared for the fact that the "miracle doctor" who was being talked about in the slums was actually Asian!

In an instant.

An undisguised contempt and disdain appeared on that pale face.

[Hatefulness +5]

"Hey, nigger."

The tattooed man turned his head and looked at Mike with a nonchalant air: "Will this work? You guys aren't just teaming up to scam me, are you?"

"Watch your mouth, you bastard!"

Mike's eyes flashed with a fierce light: "Stop talking nonsense! If you're not going to get treated, get the hell out here and wait to die!"

As Lynn's number one henchman, Mike showed no mercy to the tattooed man.

"Alright, let's make this clear first: if I can't cure it, I absolutely won't pay a single cent!"

He sat down in front of Lynn with an air of authority, extending his right arm, which was twisted at an odd angle.

"Hello, doctor, can you take a look at me?"

The tattooed man, his face full of provocation, muttered swear words: "Let me guess, you're taking on side jobs in this godforsaken place because you caused a medical malpractice incident and got your medical license revoked, right? Otherwise..."

"what!"

Before the trash talk was even finished, a piercing scream suddenly erupted from inside the tent!

Lynn didn't even lift his eyelids, and didn't bother to say a single unnecessary word.

With lightning speed, his hands reached out and grabbed his dislocated wrists and elbows.

One pull, one twist, one push!

Click!

A remarkably crisp sound of bones closing rang out.

It only took three seconds from start to finish, and the device was perfectly reset!

of course.

Given the other person's foul mouth, he only used ten times more force.

After a scream.

Lynn withdrew her hands and gracefully took out a wet wipe to slowly and deliberately wipe between her fingers.

You're wrong about one thing.

Lynn's lips curled into a cold smile: "I didn't have my license revoked, but... I never even took that kind of bullshit exam."