America: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 113 Modern Brothers

Driving to the bridge-hole campsite, Zhang Ailun got out of the car and saw tents pitched like grave mounds by the roadside, a bright campfire, and seven or eight people cheering there. The old, broken stereo was blasting loudly and sounded very noisy, but they were having a great time.

Faith Modern, the leader of the Modern Brothers, was sitting on the sofa with a blonde, blue-eyed white woman in his arms.

Both of them seemed to have taken too much, and were in a very excited state. There were also syringes in the trash can next to them.

"Fxxkyou! I didn't pay $50 for you to come here and get high, you at least have to let me have some fun! Hiss..."

The people around them were also making a fuss, watching the good show intently, and didn't even notice when Zhang Ailun and his group arrived.

Zhang Ailun said somewhat boredly, "These guys are all poisonous insects? I thought they were some kind of tough characters."

"They probably got their spines broken by the street gangs and went astray. Weren't they very successful before? They were very ambitious and even wanted to switch to drug trafficking to make money, but they lacked brains and planning. They only thought about grabbing territory and acting recklessly, which angered other gangs and made too many enemies." Sig wasn't surprised by this, nor did he feel sorry for them.

Although the competition for collecting cans is fierce, it's mostly just physical altercations, turn-based street fights, and no one will die.

Gang members don't follow any rules. If you infringe on their interests, they'll find a way to kill you! Didn't the other member of the Modern Brothers get run over and killed in a car accident?

Zhang Ailun said to the red stick next to him, "Go wake them up. I don't want to talk to a bunch of drug addicts whose brains are so numbed by drugs that they can't even speak properly."

Taking the opportunity to teach someone a lesson doesn't bring much satisfaction, as the other party will forget about it the next day and may not even remember who hit them.

One-Armed Ricky immediately ran over to relay the message, patting a homeless man on the shoulder.

"Hey guys, have you had enough fun? Our boss has something to tell you!"

"No! Where did you come from? If you want to play, you have to line up properly, understand?" The homeless man was short-tempered and turned around to curse him in dissatisfaction.

He even took the opportunity to mock his arm: "Buddy, what happened to your hand? Did someone break it? No problem, you still have another hand. If you really can't stand it, just go over there, unbuckle your belt, and take care of it yourself!"

"Fxxk you!" Yang Guo from the West Coast also had a fiery temper, and angrily punched him!

The homeless man cried out and fell to the ground, clutching his nose. Richie, enraged, kicked over the table, scattering bottles, syringes, and scattered white powder all over the floor, which flew away in the wind.

Other Beggars' Gang thugs also joined in, smashing, looting, and burning!

"Fxxk!! What are you doing?" The homeless man next to him was both shocked and angry, glaring at him. "Don't you know how expensive these things are?"

He turned around and lay down on the ground, gathering the white powder mixed with soil and licking it like a dog.

A satisfied smile appeared on his face.

Zhang Ailun couldn't stand it any longer. He stepped over the homeless people, walked up to Faith Modern, grabbed the woman serving him, and slapped her across the face.

Faith Modern woke up instantly, his nose bleeding profusely, and half of his face swelled up at a visible speed.

"Are you awake now? You're the boss of the Modern Brothers?"

Faith Modern's mind went blank for a moment when he looked at the Asian man in front of him. He then looked around and saw his underlings slumped over, all of them looking like they were having a high.

He was furious. He wiped the blood away and cursed, "Fxxk! Where did you guys come from? Where's Arnold? Wasn't that guy supposed to be on guard duty outside? You didn't even tell me you were coming, and you went off to get high behind my back again?"

"If you're talking about that guy, then yes." Sig remembered seeing a homeless man lying around the corner, whom he thought was dead, but it turned out to be the gatekeeper of the Modern Brothers' camp.

Without saying a word, Zhang Ailun slapped him across the other cheek. "Shut up! Your voice is too loud!!"

Faith Modern instantly became obedient. Do you know how much damage two large peacocks can do to a poisonous insect? His mind went blank, he opened his mouth, and mumbled something.

Zhang Ailun listened to his muttering for a while but couldn't understand it, so he slapped him again, "Did you leave your vocal cords at home, you bastard?"

Faith Modern was completely stunned by the slap. His drug-numbed brain was somewhat out of control, and his thoughts went blank.

He sat on the sofa, looking at the group with a blank expression and a vacant stare.

"Guys, what are you guys doing here?"

"Think carefully about what you've done, what mistakes you've made recently, and who you've offended!"

Zhang Ailun felt somewhat bored; taking advantage of someone's vulnerability to bully a defenseless poisoner was utterly unfulfilling. He then turned to look at the white-haired girl sitting on the ground beside him, who was equally dazed and disheveled.

She waved her hand, signaling Sieg and the others to drag her away so as not to interfere with their negotiations.

He pulled up a chair and sat down, staring at Faith Modern, who was lost in thought. "Remember now?"

Clearly, the other person couldn't recall any relevant information. After thinking for a long time, they had no memory of it and even saw things in a double vision.

He said, "I wasn't finished enjoying myself yet. I don't think I've ever seen you before, nor did I do anything to you."

"You didn't provoke me, but you did provoke my friend Old Karl. Where did you get the money to buy cocoa and leaves?" Zhang Ailun asked.

"Insurance fraud, zero-dollar purchases, collecting cans." Faith Modern's spoken English became increasingly fluent, and he became excited when he mentioned these memories.

He quickly seemed to regain his strength, as if he had a sudden burst of energy before death. "Hey guys, what do you mean by this? You think I did it? I think I know who you are!"

"Oh? You remember who I am?" Zhang Ailun asked.

"Of course, you must be Juankin from Lloris 19! Man, I know everything you've done since you started out! No doubt, you're a man destined for greatness! Unlike that black cripple footballer who just wants to beg and be a good boy all day."

Fis chuckled, excitedly saying, "Making it big on the streets is brutal. Whoever has the biggest fist makes money, women, cars, and houses—that's no problem. But the most important thing is to use your brain! Absolutely never let yourself get involved with drugs! That stuff will destroy your will and your life!"

"Then how did you end up in this state?" Zhang Ailun asked, somewhat surprised.

He speaks eloquently and logically, which is unlike someone of his character.

"Because I'm a loser." Faith readily admitted, "My dead brother and I are both losers. We offended people we couldn't afford to mess with! I used to refuse to take drugs and never touched addictive substances, but ever since I broke my leg and my brother was run over by a car, I've resigned myself to my fate."

He lifted one of his legs, which looked a bit unnatural. He rolled up his trouser leg and realized it was a prosthesis.

"You know me very well?" Zhang Ailun asked.

"I don't know much about you. But I can feel your presence!"

Zhang Ailun wondered how this guy could be so good at bluffing. Since his debut, he had always been the one manipulating others, so when did it become his turn to be manipulated?

No wonder they were able to recruit dozens of people, operate a family business, and grow their business into a large and powerful enterprise!

What a pity.

He was once a king of success stories on the West Coast, but later he was dragged out and had his legs broken.

"Since you know everything, that makes things simple. We can talk about my friend's situation."

Zhang Ailun pulled out a pistol and placed it beside him, saying, "Old Karl spent a lot of money to entrust us with getting the lost goods back."

"How did you confirm that I did it?"

Faith Modern glanced at the pistol, not particularly flustered, but asked with feigned confusion, "We rarely target other people, much less go to gun scrap yards. It's usually Mexican workers and Europeans who do this kind of thing. How can you be so sure it was us?"

"I have my own methods, and that's none of your business." Zhang Ailun directly demanded compensation, "Either you give me back Old Karl's $3000, or I'll take something of equal value from you in exchange."

"Dude, don't threaten me. If it were before, I might have been scared to death, but now, look at me! What's valuable to a white homeless cripple addicted to drugs? My blood is full of leaves and cocoa. Even skin banks wouldn't choose someone like me."

Fies laughed loudly, "I'm not Black or Asian, I'm a useless white guy, hooo!! Long live the useless!!"

Zhang Ailun: "..."

On the West Coast, homeless people are not a desirable group. Among the homeless, white people are much worse in terms of physical condition and organ availability than black and Asian people.

While it's true that many wealthy people on the West Coast might like Black men, most of them here are sick, making it difficult to find one who isn't addicted to marijuana.

Black children of African descent are the best choice. Children adopted from Asia are the next best option.

Zhang Ailun didn't want to discuss this sensitive topic too much. "I've already dispersed and incorporated the Irishmen living in the sewers, and Jon will be sentenced. If you don't want to end up like him, or even worse, you can continue to argue!"

"I've already spent all the money," Faith said.

"You just got the jar yesterday, and it's all gone today? Do you think we're idiots?"

Sieg walked over and angrily cursed, "The recycling station owner hired you to cause trouble in other places just to steal our can business, right? You stole Old Carl's cans, but you definitely didn't sell them all! You were hoarding them, waiting for the price to go up before dumping them all at once. Where did you hide the cans?"

He searched for a long time at the No. 9 bridge arch camp but couldn't find a single jar.

Hearing what Sieg said, Zhang Ailun looked at the sullen-looking Faithmodern and chuckled, "So, tell me, where did you hide the jars? Don't worry, as long as we get those jars or get back the $3000 in cash, this debt between you and old Carl will be wiped clean! If you want to continue making excuses, you'll have to bear the consequences."

"You have guns, so you're the bosses. You call the shots. I can't do anything but cooperate with you. I did hide the jar somewhere else, in a small cabin in the suburbs, which used to be our base for growing leaves."

Fies sighed helplessly, dragged his crippled leg to his feet, and limped towards the tent under the bridge.

"Wait a minute, I'll go get the keys now and then take you to the suburbs. Damn, I really miss the days when my brother and I were all the rage on the streets..."

He walked away, muttering to himself, and climbed into the tent.

Zhang Ailun gestured to Richie next to him to take some men over and keep an eye on him, so that he wouldn't pull out any deadly weapons from the tent and threaten him.

Looking back at the members who had regained consciousness in the camp, as well as the poison girl, he waved and called her over.

"How much did he pay you to come and work for them?"

"It's $20 per person. Faith gave me $50, wanting me to provide him with full-service and stay with him at night," the drug addict replied timidly.

"You're serving seven or eight people all by yourself?" Sig found it hard to believe.

You must be making a lot of money!

The little butterfly is really suffering following you; it has to spit out honey every day.

"I do this just to make money, otherwise I'll go hungry, I won't have money to rent a place, and it'll be dangerous to sleep on the streets. I could get raped at night. They used to call me over often and stand up for me. Sometimes when I had drug withdrawal, they would give me cocoa and leaves."

The drug addict said somewhat embarrassedly, "Although they use drugs, do no honest work, and frequently go to jail, they are all good people."

A classic good person.

"May I leave now?" she asked Zhang Ailun pitifully.

"Let's go." Zhang Ailun didn't make things too difficult for her and let her leave.

The other party is different from the Dongwu sisters. Although they are both paid to do things, one has a certificate and the other does not. One is a regular senior physiotherapist and model, and the other is a third-level Gu chicken in the wild area.

The Dongwu sisters are well-endowed and provide excellent service. They came from overseas to make money. They have medical reports and are not addicted to drugs, otherwise wealthy bosses would definitely not be willing to order from them.

The richer you are, the more you value your life. Rich people are also very careful in choosing their employees. Not to mention anything else, even if you go to a foot massage parlor to work as a high-end spa worker, the employees must have a medical examination certificate before they can be employed.

Paying high prices for a high-class banquet and getting poisoned food—who the hell could stand that? It caused an uproar!

"Hey! Why did you let her go? I haven't paid her yet!!" Faith Modern took out his keys and handbag from the tent and became anxious after seeing the prostitute being driven away.

I've never been this anxious before, not even when Zhang Ailun slapped me several times.

He stormed up to them, face to face, spitting and yelling, "FxxK!! You guys have to take responsibility!! How am I supposed to sleep at night without her?"

It's clear that this guy is not only a drug addict, but also a porn addict.

Zhang Ailun ignored his barking and simply replied coldly, "Got the key? Then come with us."

"I'm not leaving!" Fies said angrily.

Zhang Ailun gave him no chance to react and slapped him across the face.

"You're giving me too much credit!"

With a slap, half of his face swelled up again. "Are you leaving or not?"

"Let's go, let's go! Let's go now!"

Fies immediately nodded obediently, his eyes clearer than ever before.

"Why didn't you do this sooner? You made me do it. You bastard." Zhang Ailun cursed, rubbing his palm. He felt that the other person's skin was quite thick. At least after one slap, the force of the impact made his palm numb and itchy.

Fez let the people in the camp continue to have fun, while he went out with the gang leaders who had come to collect debts to take care of some business.

Anyone with eyes can see that they've messed with someone they shouldn't mess with again.

But while the new members are still anxious, the old members have long since given up and started smoking.

"What's the panic? Our boss gets beaten up every month or two. As long as he's not arrested and locked up by the police, everything's fine! At least they're just street hustlers, not drug dealers from next door." The old member sneered.

"Don't worry, our boss won't die. When he opens his eyes, tomorrow will be another beautiful day."

"Keep taking drugs, keep dancing."

A bunch of people who were having a blast were completely oblivious to everything else. They were just coasting along, waiting to die, and simply giving up.

You can hit me, you can scold me, but the leaves must not break!

Give me liberty or give me death!

(End of this chapter)