America: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 167 Recovering the Glider

The buzzing of the electric drill echoed throughout the bank vault, but after more than ten minutes, nothing was found. Sieg went from being excited at the beginning to being bored, and finally became a little irritable and numb.

He couldn't help but complain, "Those damn bank employees! I knew they wouldn't leave anything good here! Not a single cent!"

He muttered curses and started drilling, but the drawer was completely empty.

"If you're not good at it, don't blame the road for being uneven."

Zhang Ailun took the drill again, aimed it at the drawer of the C-96 safe, and drilled open the keyhole after half a minute, opening the drawer.

He pulled out a key and a qualification document, which showed the location of the storage warehouse. "See, my luck is definitely much better than yours!"

"..." It's not you...

Is it open?

Sig was dumbfounded and couldn't help but start to question the meaning of life.

"Why can you find good stuff while I can't?"

"Because I'm a man favored by God!" Zhang Ailun chuckled, put away the keys and documents, and prepared to leave.

"Aren't you going to continue? There are still hundreds of safes here that haven't been opened," Sig asked, puzzled.

"I'm going out for some fresh air. It's too stuffy in here, the air doesn't circulate. You stay here and keep busy. Come find me when you're done." Zhang Ailun waved his hand and left the bank vault.

Sieg nodded in agreement and continued working.

After leaving the bank building, Zhang Ailun simply sat on his Jeep Wrangler, enjoying the breeze, chewing gum, and scrolling through short videos on his phone.

Half an hour later, Sieg came out looking disheveled and dejected.

"What's wrong? Did you find anything good?" Zhang Ailun couldn't help but laugh when he saw him like this.

"Don't even mention it, we found nothing, and we were all sweaty. The drill bit even broke!" Sieg was speechless. He put the scorching hot drill back into the toolbox; the battery was completely dead and he hadn't found anything of value.

"Was that key a warehouse key? Could it also be unclaimed?" Sig asked curiously as he got into the car.

"We'll know once we get there." Zhang Ailun started the car and drove away from the former site of Morgan Bank on West Street, heading towards the private warehouse at No. 356 Tianlong Avenue.

We soon arrived at the street and began searching for warehouses along its length. The street was filled with flat-roofed houses, seemingly a specially constructed warehouse district, and the walls were covered in graffiti.

Zhang Ailun turned the steering wheel around and, following the navigation information, drove into an L-shaped yard. After parking the vehicle, he discovered that there were several Black people in the yard.

They were wearing vests, had tattoos on their arms, sat on the steps smoking cigarettes, and making lewd remarks.

Noticing the approaching Wrangler, the group perked up and stood up.

Ignoring the guys, Zhang Ailun and Sieg got out of the car, locked the doors and windows, and took out their keys to try to open the warehouse door.

Several black men looked at the two of them suspiciously. They wanted to come over and say hello, but Sieg opened his tactical chest bag and put his hand inside.

The old men instantly realized that this man possessed profound truth! Feeling awkward, they quickly turned and left the yard.

"These black guys are even trying to get tattoos, but with their skin color, you can't even tell what they're supposed to be tattooed on their bodies," Sig muttered.

Zhang Ailun opened the warehouse with the key, and sure enough, there were cardboard boxes inside. Sieg glanced at them and found that they were some tires with BMW logos on them.

"BMW run-flat tires? And they're brand new. These should be worth a lot of money, right?" Sieg was surprised, not expecting to make another discovery.

Zhang Ailun took out his phone and searched for tire prices. The wholesale price of ordinary BMW tires is over a hundred dollars. If you go to a professional repair shop to replace four tires, the labor fee plus the cost will cost you at least two thousand dollars! Run-flat tires like these cost 200-600 dollars each, and replacing a set of run-flat tires will easily cost four thousand dollars.

Of course, if you choose to get your car repaired at a roadside or suburban repair shop, a few hundred dollars will be enough, and you'll get high-quality genuine tires.

After all, anything made by Black people is bound to be of high quality.

Old Black beat all the price wars that capitalists started!

I took another look around the warehouse. It was L-shaped, and besides storing goods and parking vehicles, there was also an office. However, the computers inside had been removed, leaving only tables and chairs. There was no water or electricity.

That's good too. If there's water and electricity, the community administrators and government departments will definitely come to collect taxes.

Zhang Ailun felt he didn't need the warehouse for the time being, but the tires could be sold online.

A brand new, high-quality BMW run-flat tire costs $580, a set of tires is on sale for $2200, and here are four sets, worth $8800! No deception. If you really can't sell them, you can sell them to Old George; he'll take anything.

He handed the warehouse key to Sieg and asked him to find someone to make several copies of the warehouse key for easy use.

Zhang Ailun took a few pictures of the actual items and drove to the scrap metal recycling station. Sieg got out of the car halfway to go to a hardware store to make a key.

Arriving at the recycling station on Aitou Street, Zhang Ailun parked his Wrangler on the side of the road and saw Dominic and Gates busy processing cans. A garbage truck was parked outside the yard. He greeted them.

Without disturbing their work, Zhang Ailun went straight into the house, logged onto the Opportunity Network on the computer, and listed the products.

"Boss, what's this? A tire?" The little girl, Gate, came over, glanced at the price of the item, and was genuinely surprised.

A tire sold for $580? That's more than she earned collecting cans for several days!

Zhang Ailun smiled and said, "These are BMW run-flat tires, of course they're a bit more expensive. Are you and David settling in well here? If you have any questions or needs, you can give Dominic feedback and he'll let me know."

"We don't have any needs. We're satisfied with our current situation. We can earn money every day and have a stable income. People can also stay here at night, although it's not very comfortable."

Gates replied, "David and I are planning to save up to rent a place and find part-time jobs so we won't have to live in other people's houses anymore."

"Great idea, I support you. However, working for others is too low an hourly wage, and you'd have to work eight hours a day part-time. After you finish dealing with the jars, you can work part-time as waitresses at a bar and solicit customers on the street. I'll definitely make sure Mary gives you a reasonable salary!"

Zhang Ailun said, "You can stay overnight at a bar; there's no shortage of beds there."

"Don't let the good stuff go to outsiders." If you go to work for someone else, they'll take advantage of you, won't treat you like one of their own, and you could be fired at any time.

If you come to work for the head of the organization, you'll be provided with food and lodging; you definitely won't suffer any losses.

"Thank you so much, boss!" the girl said happily.

"No problem," Zhang Ailun waved his hand.

After finishing his recycling work, Dominic came into the room and was somewhat surprised to see the goods Zhang Ailun had put up for sale. "Where did you get these BMW tires?"

"Of course they were recycled." Zhang Ailun smiled and immediately told him about his and Sieg's trip to the old bank site to open blind boxes.

Then he took out that box of 1986 Eagle Gold Coins, which are worth at least ten thousand US dollars.

Dominic was also amazed by the leader's incredible luck. He then proactively reported to Zhang Ailun about the work on the cans on the street.

The Beggars' Sect disciples can now collect several thousand jars every day, and the sect leader's net profit is several hundred dollars. Occasionally, they can even get a gold coin or find cocoa and cigarettes in the treasure chest.

Zhang Ailun was in a great mood. He paid out of his own pocket and spent $20 to have David buy drinks and desserts from the convenience store next door. The four of them ate and chatted for about two hours.

When the landline rang, Dominic went over to answer it, listened to the other person's account, and then reported the matter to the leader after hanging up.

"There was a door-to-door pickup service. The customer said he wanted to sell us a self-developed mini rocket thrust launcher and an SGS2-33 two-seat glider. He asked us to meet at his factory in the suburbs to discuss the details."

David and Gates were quite excited after hearing this. "Someone actually wants to sell us a glider? It must be very expensive, right?"

Dominic, who had been in charge of the can recycling station for several days, already knew the market price of the waste products like the back of his hand. Now, he was proficient in much more than just can work.

He explained, "The fact that the other party is willing to sell the items to our recycling center instead of a pawn shop means that the items are not very valuable, at most no more than $2000. Perhaps he has already contacted pawn shops, but he couldn't accept the price offered, or the repair costs would be too high, and there wouldn't be much profit, so pawn shops didn't want to take them back."

Zhang Ailun nodded upon hearing this, as he shared the same thought. "Then let's go take a look."

They had originally planned to have David and Gates stay here to watch the door, but seeing that they had been sitting here for two hours without getting a single customer, they decided to close the shop early and go to the suburbs to collect items.

David drove the garbage truck into the yard, locked the gate, and the four of them got into the Wrangler.

Zhang Ailun started the vehicle and, based on the location given by the guest, used navigation to leave the city and head to the designated meeting place in the suburbs.

It took twenty minutes to arrive at the meeting place, which turned out to be a privately owned house that had been cleared and the road had been repaired.

When we arrived, we could see something covered by a black cloth parked in the yard from afar; it was vaguely recognizable as an airplane.

Zhang Ailun parked the Wrangler next to him, got out of the car, and seeing no one around, simply asked Dominic to call the other party.

I received the call, and within minutes I saw a Ford pickup truck drive up from the road and stop in front of the yard.

An elderly white man wearing a floral shirt and sunglasses got off the bus, carrying a suitcase. He waved and greeted the group warmly.

"Hey! Hello there! You're from Alfred's junkyard? Where's old Carl?"

"We are indeed Alfred's employees. Are you the one selling a rocket thrust launcher and an SGS2-33 two-seat glider?"

Dominic exclaimed in surprise, "Old Carl has stepped down. We've taken over that recycling center now, but we're still good friends with him."

They never expected that old Karl had such a wide network of connections. People came to sell planes because of his honest business practices.

"Well, I heard about his retirement a few days ago, I didn't expect it to be true." The old man said regretfully, "But it doesn't matter, as long as you can give me a reasonable price, I'll sell this old relic, I don't care who it is."

"How did you meet old Karl?" Zhang Ailun asked curiously.

"I met him at a bar. When I told him I was going to sell him an airplane, he didn't trust me," the old man said. "I used to work at NASA and have been retired for many years. I'm also a researcher, and the miniature rocket thrust launcher I'm selling you is something I developed myself!"

"Where?"

Zhang Ailun only saw the plane covered by a black cloth; he hadn't yet seen where the launcher was hidden.

"You'll see in a moment!" The old man chuckled, feigning mystery. He then lifted the black cloth, revealing a two-seater airplane underneath.

Zhang Ailun glanced at the aircraft's condition and, as he expected, the red and white paint was already peeling, and a wing and tail were missing. The seats and buttons were yellowed and worn, making it look like an old antique that had been sitting in a warehouse for a long time.

"Look at this! This SGS2-33 two-seat glider is in good condition inside and can still start. The only drawback is that it hasn't been cleaned in a long time, and there are some minor issues with the tail and wings. But once it's repaired, it can still fly!"

The old man proudly said, "Don't let its current worn-out appearance fool you; I won prizes in glider competitions flying it back in the day!"

He took out a group photo and showed it to Zhang Ailun and the others. The banner read that it was a gliding competition held somewhere in Las Vegas, and the person holding the medal did indeed look like the old man.

Still second place.

"A hero doesn't dwell on past glories. Even the best plane will one day end up in a car graveyard, even if it's an F-22 fighter jet. We're here to collect junk," Zhang Ailun pondered. "I can offer $400 for this glider."

"..."

The old man was completely flustered upon hearing this. His smile froze. "No, Young Master Duo?"

Are you going to rob me?

Zhang Ailun had done his homework on the way and believed he had a good understanding of the plane. Knowledge is power, and power is money.

He was full of confidence, and the way he brandished the Dragon Slayer Sword was somewhat reminiscent of old George. He opened the cockpit and began to nitpick and list the shortcomings of the aircraft.

「SGS2-33是美国斯韦策飞机公司研製的一种低价格双座教练和多用途滑翔机，支撑式上单翼，带金属蒙皮的铝合金结构和全金属副翼。原型机于1966年秋首飞，1967年2月获得美国联邦航空局型号合格证，1967年1月投产，原始型2-33共生产了85架。后被2-33A和向业余爱好者出售的散装件型2-33AK所代替，最大速度和最大空中牵引速度158千米/小时，在滑翔机比赛上火热一时。」

"But that's an outdated model from the last century. This glider is basically obsolete in the market. There are much better and more advanced aircraft now. The paint is peeling, the internal structure is rusted, the cables and pulleys are old, the screws need replacing, there's no safety guarantee, and it can no longer participate in any competitions. It can only be left to collect dust or thrown into an aircraft graveyard to be dismantled for parts. I can only recycle it at scrap value; I'd lose money even if it were an extra hundred dollars."

The repairs might cost thousands of dollars, but the actual selling price should be over 20,000 dollars!

If you buy it back at around $1,000, the profit can be quite substantial!

Zhang Ailun put on a mask of pain, forcing himself not to laugh out loud.

The old man was numb from being hacked, and looked at Zhang Ailun speechlessly. "400 dollars! I wouldn't even get that much for scrap metal! If you fix it, you can definitely sell it for more! At least 2000 dollars! I'm only doing this because of old Karl."

Zhang Ailun sighed: "For old Karl's sake, I'll give you a fair price: $600."

"I'm not selling anymore!!" The old man's face turned a little red.

Zhang Ailun thought for a moment, then said seriously, "Okay, I'll give you a maximum of $1000 to take it. Let's be friends, I'll consider it a loss."

"You can get a lower price at a pawn shop. Nobody wants to buy this pile of scrap metal. Only we are willing to come all this way to take it away."

When Dominic heard "I'll take a loss," he felt like he had seen this scene somewhere before.

Will the dragon slayer eventually become a dragon?

The old man hesitated for a moment, then sighed, "Alright, a thousand dollars, cash only!"

"Deal." Zhang Ailun chuckled. He'd finally experienced what it was like to be with old George.

(End of this chapter)