America achieves both fame and fortune

Chapter 58 Happy America

In the early evening, as dusk was falling, in an abandoned wooden house not far from Clayton.

Boyette sat on a small box, reached into his crotch with one hand, smelled it, and immediately felt refreshed.

Across from him, on a broken sofa and wooden chairs, sat four black men, even darker than him.

They were also dressed in black, making them easy to overlook.

One of the bald men said, "Boss Bo, we just got this place. You want to steal our market share? You have a higher status in the gang than us, but we're not afraid of you."

"Tom," Boyette said, "I'm here to discuss a business deal with you."

Bald Tom held up a finger and shook it: "We're not short of money."

Jerry, the dreadlocked henchman next to him, pulled out a tequila box, opened it with an air of arrogance, and revealed it to be full of rolls of US dollars.

Boyette got up, opened the box, and kicked it over, scattering many $20 bills inside.

"Come with me and take down this pile of dog shit in Clayton," he said. "It's all yours."

Tom asked, "Whose poop is that?"

Poyet remembered the information Adam Smith had collected and had also inquired about the events of that day with a familiar APD, so he had some guesses in his mind.

There's also the issue of stealing customers after 10 PM. With old and new grudges combined, who else would we target if not that piece of shit? He said, "That guy's a small-time actor, seems to have some money. Let's go over there together, grab him, and beat him up. We can squeeze as much as we can out of him, it's all yours."

Spike and Butch, both Black men, couldn't help but want to agree.

Tom, being a little more astute, stopped them and asked, "Does he live alone?"

Boyer nodded: "I rent a place to live alone."

Dreadlocks Jerry leaned closer and whispered in Tom's ear, "Five against one, the advantage is ours."

Tom glanced at the banknotes on the ground, then at the tequila box; the difference was quite significant.

Doing what he did best, something that almost permeated his soul, he didn't think twice and said, "We'll take this job."

Poyet laughed and took out his M1911 to check the magazine.

The other four men also prepared their pistols.

Tom glanced at Boyette's clothes, then pulled out a set of all-black clothes and handed them to him: "Change into these, we'll be kings of the night!"

Boyette immediately changed her clothes.

Dark skin and black clothes are a perfect match.

…………

Inside the Clayton neighborhood, a few dim streetlights were still on, offering a bit more reassuring light compared to the darkness outside.

Wearing shorts and a t-shirt, Martin checked all the doors and windows before returning to the sofa.

The shotgun is placed under the coffee table, within easy reach.

The bedroom door creaked open, and Elena sneaked out, jumping up and throwing herself at Martin.

Just as Martin made a move, he heard the bedroom door open again. He instinctively turned his head to look and his eyes landed on Lily's face.

"Fuck!" Elena noticed too and turned around angrily.

Martin casually pulled something out from under the coffee table and threw it at Lily.

A pink kettle smashed against the door frame.

The sound of the kettle falling to the floor startled the people in the other bedroom.

Hall, carrying a baseball bat, and Harris, with a pistol tucked in his pocket, both ran out.

Martin and Elena's enthusiasm vanished at this point.

The latter scrambled to his feet and growled, "Go back to sleep, all of you!"

The two bedroom doors closed, and Martin turned off the table lamps.

He covered himself with a blanket and, after who knows how much time had passed, was dreaming of taking on three women single-handedly when he suddenly heard the rattling sound of an aluminum can.

Martin, who had trained with Bruce many times, immediately got up, picked up his shotgun, and went to the window to check the situation.

It was that rattling sound of aluminum cans again; the wind couldn't make that loud.

Martin heard a noise behind him, turned around and glanced back. Elena came out barefoot, carrying her shotgun.

"I heard a noise and then I saw you," she said.

Martin told her to hide behind the brick support wall.

He looked outside, but the streetlights were far away, and it was pitch black outside; he couldn't see anything.

Elena felt a chill and couldn't help but ask, "Did James climb out?"

Martin faintly heard voices, and just as he was about to listen carefully, a scream suddenly rang out.

"Ouch—" Then came a somewhat familiar angry shout: "Who the hell dug this trap! And put nails in it!"

The trap was obviously dug by Hall.

Martin decided to scare the people away, shouting, "Who are you? Get out of here! I have a gun..."

Before he could finish speaking, he heard a gunshot and instinctively shrank his neck.

People outside heard the sound and fired shots. In the pitch black night, who knows where the bullets went?

"That's the bastard!" the somewhat familiar voice shouted again. "I've seen him in his late-night scenes; that was his voice just now."

Martin glanced around; it was pitch black outside, and he had no idea where anyone was. He raised his shotgun and, based on the direction the sound was coming from, fired a shot through the open window.

boom--

Gunshots shattered the tranquility of the night.

"Fuck! Kill that bastard!"

A burst of gunfire rang out, thankfully all of them were pistols.

Elena fired another shot from another window, and the bullet flew into the air.

Martin yelled at her, "Don't show your face! Don't let those three idiots out of the house. Call Wood and the neighborhood gang and get them to come help."

Instead of calling the police and hoping for the APD to arrive, it's better to rely on the newly established neighborhood alliance.

Elena took Martin's phone and called Wood and the others. They had already been alerted and immediately said they would come to help.

The gunfire outside stopped. Martin stretched out his gun barrel and, without caring whether he could see anyone or not, fired four shots in one go, then quickly squatted down to reload.

There were no screams outside, but there were gunshots.

Bang! Bang—

Gunshots rang out in the distance, and the neighborhood comrades mobilized, with more than a dozen guns firing.

"Let's go!" The people outside weren't stupid. "Boyette, they outnumber us, let's go!"

The voice roared, "Tom, don't call me by my name! Are you idiots?! Jerry, I've twisted my ankle, come help me!"

The can rattled again, and Martin fired his gun once more, firing five bullets in one go.

"Ouch! My butt!"

Martin was lucky; one of the shotgun shells hit him.

More gunshots rang out, and someone outside shouted, "Run! Forget about Boyet, he's got a bloody backside, he can't escape!"

Martin reloaded his gun and waved repeatedly at the three idiots peeking through the door: "Go back inside! Don't come out here looking for trouble!"

Harris told his younger siblings to hurry back to their rooms, while he gripped his pistol and stood guard at the doors of both bedrooms.

The sound of car engines could be heard outside, and the headlights of several cars illuminated the road in front of the gate.

Nani's booming voice rang out: "Martin, Elena, you two are still alive, aren't you?"

To be on the safe side, Martin didn't show himself, but shouted back, "We're fine, I think I hit a son of a bitch!"

Valencia shouted excitedly, "Look! There's a black guy with a ripped-out ass! Martin, you blew his ass out with a bullet!"

Martin boasted, "With my marksmanship, taking on two or three people at once is a piece of cake."

Wood then said, "Come out, it's alright now."

Martin peeked out, opened the door, pointed his gun at the sky, and went outside.

Wood warned, "Don't run around, protect the scene." He gave a unified story: "A black man attacked a residential building in the community, and we were forced to defend ourselves."

The others readily agreed.

The terrible things that happened tonight have made them feel threatened, and they will be more united in the near future.

Wood called the police again, went to see the old black man, and said, "Natural camouflage, born criminal."

Martin went to the fence of the yard and saw the old black man groaning in pain.

Black skin, a black bald head, black clothes...

No wonder he couldn't see anyone.

This innate advantage is too great.

Upon closer inspection, Martin realized he recognized him: Poyet, the owner of the Black Bar.

"You bunch of trash, don't be so happy yet!" Even with his backside bruised and battered, Boyette continued to threaten, "The South City gangs won't let you get away with this!"

Martin turned the butt of his rifle around and slammed it into Boyette's mouth: "Go to hell, you idiot!"

Most of Boyette's teeth flew out, making his speech slurred.

Martin shouted, "Everyone saw it, he fell down himself!"

The others laughed and chimed in, "Yeah, he fell!"

(End of this chapter)