America: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 121 Reversing the Heavenly Gang

"Bro, WTF..."

The bespectacled old man stared blankly at the Asian who had suddenly appeared in the room, as if he had seen a ghost, and blurted out a swear word.

Zhang Ailun noticed a black handgun on the other person's table. Quick-witted and ruthless, he kicked the table over.

Popcorn exploded and flew all over the room, while the pistol spun and rolled into a corner.

"Hey!!" The two black men finally realized what was happening and immediately stood up to resist.

"Shut the hell up!!"

Zhang Ailun clenched his fist and delivered a powerful punch to Lao Hei's fat face, shattering his glasses and nose bridge, and breaking down Lao Hei's psychological defenses.

The bespectacled old man immediately covered his bleeding nose and let out a wail.

"Oh!! My nose!!!"

The old black man next to him immediately covered his head and exclaimed in surprise, "Hey!!"

Zhang Ailun delivered another devastating punch, turning Lao Hei into a fat lobster. He vomited up everything he had just eaten, collapsing to the ground clutching his stomach, drenched in cold sweat.

"What's going on? What are you all arguing about? Can't you just eat in peace? We have work to do tonight!!"

The door to the cubicle was pushed open, and a young Black man with grime-covered braids and thick lips, wearing beach shorts, asked irritably.

He was stunned when he saw the scene.

Zhang Ailun was pinning the old black man to the ground and beating him up when he looked up at the tall, thin black man. He immediately picked up a lamp from the ground and smashed it over the old man's head!

The young Black man was caught off guard and hit on the head, bleeding profusely immediately, with cuts and injuries from shards of glass.

He roared in fury, "Fxxk! You mean this damn thief! Where did you come from?!"

I'm shivering with anger. They're the ones who usually break into other people's homes, when did it become their place to rob them? And the person who came was a yellow-skinned Asian—this is utterly outrageous!

Without saying a word, Zhang Ailun picked up the pistol in the corner and turned the volume of the speaker up to the maximum. The piercing volume made everyone present feel their eardrums vibrate and their heads buzz. All they could see when someone spoke was their mouth opening.

Zhang Ailun chambered a bullet and repeatedly pulled the trigger towards the ceiling, but the gunshots were low and faint. Only the muzzle flashes and spent cartridge cases could be seen.

The old black man, lying on the ground, was unable to move easily. A fallen bullet casing burned his face, and after a flurry of frantic slapping, he crawled and rolled on the dark ground, his expression contorted, drool flying everywhere – undoubtedly, it was a string of beautifully spoken words beginning with the letter F.

Old Black, who was covering his forehead and nose, was terrified when a gun was pointed at him. He quickly raised his hands.

hum!

The sound suddenly fell silent. Zhang Ailun turned off the stereo, let out a long breath, looked at the three terrified black men, and uttered a single word, "Silence!!"

The three black men quickly lowered their voices, not daring to breathe.

"Now we can have a proper talk." Zhang Ailun pointed at the black men and waved for them to sit down obediently.

The three black men cooperated and did as they were told, squeezing together on the same sofa.

Two fat men weighing 200 pounds each and a skinny man weighing less than 120 pounds were crammed into the middle of the room. The pressure from both sides was so great that the person was almost squeezing into a paper doll. The scene looked quite comical.

Zhang Ailun kicked the Coke bottle at his feet away, pulled up a stool and sat down, staring expressionlessly at the three black men. They were clearly thugs who had broken into a private residence, but he acted like a homeowner arresting a black thief.

"Do you know why I'm here?" Zhang Ailun's first words were a question that took the initiative and turned the tables.

"I don't know, sir."

"Should we know...?"

"This seems to be our home, doesn't it? Are you a robber from Asia? We've never offended you; we're good citizens of Los Angeles!"

The three black men gave a somewhat bewildered reply.

Zhang Ailun couldn't help but laugh when he heard the answer. "You guys are good citizens, then what am I?"

"Are the cars in the parking garage downstairs yours?"

Old Hei instantly came to his senses and realized that the other party had come for this very reason.

A wave of regret and remorse washed over him. They exchanged a glance, and the young Black man was still trying to lie, "That car is ours."

Zhang Ailun pointed the gun at him, and he was instantly startled, quickly denying it, saying, "It's not ours! We stole it!"

"Damn it! I told you we should have sold that junk car sooner! Someone offered $35000 for it, why didn't we sell it?" The fat black man couldn't take the pressure anymore and broke down emotionally.

"If we had sold that car back then, we'd be living the high life with that money by now!!"

"That's a 2020 Mustang Shelby!! A heavily modified one at that! It's worth at least $55,000 on the market! Do you even know the market price?!"

The old man next to him, clutching his nose and with his glasses shattered, mumbled angrily, "If we had sold it then and there, we would have suffered the biggest loss! We wouldn't have made much money at all!"

The three men were furious and blamed each other.

Zhang Ailun tapped the table, signaling them to be quiet. Why did this black guy like to criticize others so much? He had no manners at all.

He asked, "Are there only three of you here? There should be five people in your team, right? Besides the black guy who left the apartment to go to the restaurant, is there another black guy there?"

"Dude, can you please stop being so racist?" The black man's mental defenses were a bit weak, and if he said any more, he would break down.

"I'd like to, you nigger! If you keep bastarding, I'll blow your other eye out too! I'll rip your balls out and shove them up your ass!!" Zhang Ailun yelled.

"He's so fierce," the fat Black man said, sounding aggrieved. "Why did he discriminate against me?"

You look like that and you call me fierce? Do you even need to look at that fat bulge on your face? If I don't look fierce, I'll be completely overwhelmed by your presence alone.

"Shit! He even knows how many of us there are, and he knows Santy's route. We've been watched for a long time!" The black guy broke down on the spot. "I told you not to mess with that guy. That kid looks like someone with connections."

While others have already hired people to come to their door seeking revenge, with guns pointed at their heads, they're still discussing how to sell cars and split the profits.

The Mustang cost hundreds or thousands of dollars just to repaint and modify, and now they haven't earned a single cent. They haven't even sold the car yet, and they've already been beaten up for nothing.

If things go smoothly through the legal process, you might get arrested and spend decades in jail, picking up soap every day. If things go badly, they might follow the brutal rules of the streets, chopping off hands and feet, dumping the body in the wilderness—a classic case of trying to steal a chicken but losing the bait instead.

The car owner himself wasn't clean either; otherwise, he could have called the police and asked them to help him investigate the stolen vehicle, instead of choosing to post a job and hire people on the black market.

Seeing that there was little hope, they simply gave up and admitted to what they had done.

"We did have five people: two were responsible for scouting and finding sources of goods, one for finding buyers to take over, one for stealing cars, and one for planning routes, modifying and hiding vehicles. In order not to attract attention, we didn't even use online software like VT Exchange; we went through offline sales."

"The black guy, Santy, who left earlier, was in charge of selling vehicles at various car markets in our team. Another person worked at a modification shop, but he wasn't the boss; he just worked there. After get off work, we would drive the cars there and secretly borrow their tools to modify them. We each had a suitable job assigned to us, and the profit sharing for each car was very even. If we sold this car at a reasonable price, we could each get at least $1!"

Old Hei said dejectedly.

But now everything is gone. Zhang Ailun shattered their dreams of getting rich with just three punches!

Zhang Ailun also learned how they committed the crimes and how they sold the vehicles through their confessions.

The basic gameplay is pretty much the same as GTA; that's why they say art imitates life.

Stealing, modifying, and selling cars is not a job that one person can do well. It requires several people to work together and you need to know many reliable people.

They took advantage of their employer being drunk at the bar, bribed a bar employee to act as a chauffeur and drive the Mustang away.

"Do you do this kind of work often? How many cars have you sold in total?" Zhang Ailun asked.

"Not many. What we used to do most was modify zombie cars, but that kind of work requires people with very good repair skills. We couldn't find anyone like that in our team, and the time cost was also very high. In the end, we discussed it among ourselves and decided to just steal ready-made vehicles and sell them," Old Hei answered honestly.

Zhang Ailun wanted to continue questioning, but Sieg pushed open the door and entered, holding a submachine gun. "Why haven't you finished yet?"

He had been waiting downstairs for a while, and looking for the key wouldn't take too long, so he felt something might have happened and decided to come up and check.

Sure enough, as soon as he entered, he saw Old Black sitting neatly on the sofa, an overturned table, and a messy living room with items scattered all over the floor.

Sieg was also somewhat surprised. "There's someone inside?"

Seeing the spent shell casings on the ground and the broken ceiling above, he instantly understood what had happened. "The soundproofing in this room is really good! I didn't hear a sound from downstairs."

Zhang Ailun immediately asked the group of black men, "Who has the car keys?"

"We do have the car key here, and a spare key is with Santay."

When Old Hei saw another helper come in, and the other guy was even carrying a submachine gun, he felt a sense of despair.

Who exactly did they offend?

"I'll go get the keys." Old Hei tentatively got up and limped towards the house.

Zhang Ailun gestured for Sieg to follow them to prevent these black men from doing anything bad.

With a submachine gun pressed against his forehead, Old Hei couldn't put his many ideas into action. He obediently rummaged through drawers and cabinets and took out his car keys from his hoodie pocket.

Sig took the keys, brandished the gun, and said, "Sit back down! Behave yourself!!"

He pulled another submachine gun from his tactical chest pack, quickly assembled it, and handed it to Zhang Ailun. "I'll go downstairs and test if the key works."

"Okay." Zhang Ailun switched weapons, ejected the magazine from the pistol, unloaded the bullets, wiped the fingerprints off with a towel, and tossed it aside.

He aimed the gun at Old Black again, took out his phone, opened the app, and notified his employer.

Burger King: Your car has been found. Do you want to come and inspect it in person, or wait for me to deliver it to you?

Mr. Hacksaw: So fast!? You're not kidding me, are you?

Burger King: [Image], what do you think? This is your car, and these are the theft gangs.

Zhang Ailun immediately sent him a first-person perspective shot from above, showing him with a submachine gun pointed at the old black man's forehead, as well as the current state of the vehicles in the parking garage.

The employer received the pictures and was stunned to see three bruised and battered black men sitting obediently on the sofa, barely daring to breathe, with dark submachine gun barrels pointed at them.

It wasn't you...

Dude, is getting a vehicle recycling job this hardcore these days? Anyone who didn't know better would think it was a battlefield in the Middle East!

They didn't even bother with the car that had been repainted and modified.

Mr. Hacksaw: Dude! What did you do? You shot someone? And in an apartment in the city?

Burger King: You think you can get us to kill someone for $5000? Dream on!! Don't worry, you won't be held responsible if anything happens. We're professional and know what we're doing! Just send us your address, or we'll drive it to you!

Mr. Hacksaw: There's no need for you to come looking for me, I'll just go there myself...

Who could stand this?

He had only hired someone from the black market app to help him retrieve his vehicle, and he didn't have much hope. But then a mysterious, unknown big shot suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He didn't know what the guy did, but he quickly found his lost car and even put a gun in the mouths of those black guys!

The employer had no suspicions whatsoever, because those dark-skinned elves looked like professional car thieves.

Mr. Hacksaw: Please send me the address, I'll come and pick up the car right now! Actually, I'm not exactly a nobody, I used to hang out on the streets when I was younger, but we can't afford submachine guns.

It's not that they can't afford to buy guns, it's that they can't afford the cost of carrying guns in the city. Are all these people terrorists?

Zhang Ailun immediately sent the location address to the other party.

The employer received the location coordinates and discovered that it was only two communities away from their own location, practically right under their nose!

Mr. Hacksaw: Fxxk! These damn thieves! I'm taking men over there right now!

Burger King: Okay.

Zhang Ailun put away his phone and gave the trembling old black man a kind smile.

"The car owner will be here soon. Judging from what he's saying, he seems to be someone important. You've really gotten yourself into trouble!"

But that has nothing to do with them; they've already done their job.

Old Hei was on the verge of tears.

Sig returned and tested the car in the garage. "The key works! The car seems fine too, so the $5000 should be covered!"

"Bring Bailey back," Zhang Ailun said. "All we need to do now is hand over the lost vehicle to the employer, collect our money, and leave. The rest is not our responsibility."

"OK!" Sieg took out his phone and notified Bailey.

Bailey: This black guy eats so slowly. He also made an appointment with someone else. I didn't even have to use the props I prepared. Judging from the looks of it, he seems to want to go to a hotel with that black girl.

"This is really interesting." Zhang Ailun showed the chat messages to the group of black men.

"Fxxk! Wasn't he supposed to be going to see the seller? Why is he on a date?" Old Black was furious when he heard the news.

If you are unjust, then don't blame us for being unjust!

(End of this chapter)