America: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 189 The Stinking Poor Guy Came to Los Angeles to Beg for Food

Zhang Ailun followed him to the backyard and glanced at the black van, which was riddled with bullet holes and looked miserable.

The car windows were shattered, the tires were blown out, and the bumper was bent out of shape.

"Forget it, let's just leave the car here. It's not easy to drive it away." After much deliberation, Zhang Ailun also chose to give up. One shouldn't be too greedy.

Given the pitiful state of this car, even if you dared to give it to him, he wouldn't dare drive it on the highway into the city.

The state troopers on the road aren't just sitting around doing nothing.

You can shoot in the woods and the state troopers can't do anything about it, but you drive around in a wrecked car that's practically falling apart, showing no respect for others whatsoever. You don't even have the most basic respect between people.

"Go back in and search carefully, don't miss the body's pockets either, what if there's money?" Zhang Ailun reminded him.

"Okay." Melvin nodded in agreement. That's why the Grand Master is known for his frugality.

They don't even spare the money of the dead!

Melvin didn't get much else after that, only a few dozen dollars in cash. Zhang Ailun searched upstairs and downstairs and found a wine bottle in a glass container.

I took it out and glanced at it. The bottle was completely different from today's bottles. It was dark black, and the label wasn't made of paper. It only showed the year, the name of the wine, and the place of origin.

It says the production date was 1778, and it also has the personal signature "Th.J."

Zhang Allen recognized the signature; it was clearly from the private wine cellar of the late American President Thomas Jefferson.

It's a pity. If it were a complete bottle of red wine, it would have fetched at least $100,000 at auction. But now it's just an empty bottle, so its actual value is greatly reduced and it's only worth a few thousand dollars.

Even the smallest ant is still meat.

Seeing that there was nothing of value here, Zhang Ailun told Melvin to keep the loose cash, and then took him out the door. First, they moved all the weapons to the back of the Wrangler, and then they went to the ranch's cattle shed and drove all the cattle out.

"Boss, it's more than ten kilometers from here to the ranch in the small town. How long will it take us to drive the cattle there?" Seeing that the leader was determined to take the profits from the beef, Melvin helplessly tried to persuade him.

"Are you stupid? Wouldn't we call the ranch staff halfway through and have them come pick us up?" Zhang Ailun said. "Use your brain. We're herding the cattle just to avoid any connection to this ranch's crime scene. If the cattle run away, we'll collect them, sell them, isn't that perfectly reasonable?"

"Okay." Melvin thought this reason was barely acceptable. He immediately began to drive the twelve bulls, with Zhang Ailun leading the way in his Wrangler while he slowly drove the herd behind.

It took half an hour to drive the cattle to a place with lush pastures and let them graze to their hearts' content. Zhang Ailun also searched for ranches in several rural towns on an online map and made phone calls to inquire. He also contacted slaughterhouses.

But upon learning that the slaughterhouse was now only accepting orders of 50 or more cattle at a time, and offering only $3.6 per kilogram of meat, Zhang Ailun immediately abandoned the idea of ​​sending the cattle to the slaughterhouse.

"You guys are really lucky to have survived being shot."

I then inquired about the buyback prices at each ranch. They said they could drive over ten kilometers to buy the cattle. The price per cow was $4 per kilogram for bulls weighing over 300 kilograms, while other cows and calves were also less than $4.

Zhang Ailun glanced at them and saw that they were all bulls, plump and strong, weighing over 300 pounds.

They immediately arranged for them to come and pick up the goods.

Raising cattle on ranches is really not profitable.

The costs of feed, site, and management are all factored in. Raising a cow from calf to adulthood only yields a profit of two to three hundred US dollars. A hundred cows would generate a profit of over twenty thousand US dollars. Profits are entirely based on quantity. If you raise too few cows, you might as well spend a few days collecting cans in a big city.

To be honest, at this price, if it were during the Western era, we would have made a fortune.

But in modern times, the hard-earned profit from raising a dozen or so cows is far less than that from selling a truckload of goods or weapons! No wonder the ranch is basically undefended; even the fences and high-voltage electric fences are just for show.

While waiting there, Zhang Ailun took out his phone and contacted Blitz, who informed him that another buyer had purchased the $100,000 worth of jewelry and gold, but that someone needed to deliver it to different locations.

Zhang Ailun: Go contact Dominic and ask him to recruit twenty people. Leave the money-making opportunities to those in the team who are proactive in collecting cans. Let them see that they have enough channels for advancement, so that they will work harder and strive for a better tomorrow!

Blitz: ...

Why does PUA have to be described in such a refined and unconventional way?

This is indeed a good arrangement. It allows team members to earn money, saves the leader some expenses, and also provides an opportunity to select and cultivate outstanding talent. More importantly, the leader keeps his word—he actually pays!

A group of homeless people who have lost all their credit are lucky to find jobs. What more could they want?

Blitz: Okay, I'll arrange it, but how much of a profit-sharing do you think would be appropriate for them?

Zhang Ailun: It's just delivering goods, how much time can it waste for them? $100 a day is already enough for each person, so twenty people would be $2,000.

Blitz: Okay.

After chatting for a few more minutes, Zhang Ailun told Blitz to go ahead with his work and put away his phone, ending the conversation.

He also pondered that although the Beggars' Sect had a large pool of talented disciples, many of them were not useful for the business run by the sect leader. He decided that after returning, he would have Sig recruit more soldiers and invest in more armed escort vehicles and weapons and equipment, and take on all orders, big or small!

We offer city-wide delivery services starting at $200, with no upper limit on cross-city delivery. We operate 24/7, working in shifts without taking a break, accumulating small profits to build a reputation!

It won't be long before I accumulate enough points and reputation to get big orders like last time.

After waiting for a while, a truck from a rural ranch pulled up, displaying a logo for fresh beef. Zhang Ailun left Melvin to watch the cattle while he went to talk to the other party.

"Hey buddy, where's your cow? Wait, I've already seen it, is that your cow?" A fat man and a thin man, an old man and a young man, got out of the car and started talking non-stop like machine guns.

The leader had already experienced their prowess when discussing prices online, so he wasn't surprised by it.

"Dude, your cow is huge!!"

My cow is indeed very big.

Zhang Ailun remained expressionless, looking at the grandfather and grandson, and said, "We'll sell each cow for $600, as we agreed online. I'll take a loss. Payment is in cash. Once you've paid, you can take them away now."

"We also need to check if your cow has any diseases. Whether it has the flu or is just outwardly healthy," the fat old man said.

"Whatever you like." Zhang Ailun led the grandfather and grandson to the grazing path. The other party took out professional measuring instruments, examined the hair and blood for a while, and obtained the results. Satisfied, he said, "Sir, the results show that your cattle are young and strong, and the meat is at its best. We are willing to pay you $600 per head."

"Deal! A pleasure doing business with you."

The grandfather and grandson went back to the truck, retrieved the cash, and handed it to Zhang Ailun for inspection. After counting it and finding no problems, they simply asked Melvin to help drive the cattle onto the truck as well.

But something unexpected happened during the process. Niu Niu was quite docile and cooperative while grazing on the road, but as soon as it saw that it was about to be put on the car, it immediately became anxious and refused to cooperate at all, jumping around wildly, which gave Melvin a real headache.

To get Niu Niu onto the truck, he dragged the cow for over ten meters, leaving him covered in dirt and with scraped hands. All his initial pity had vanished; if the Grand Master hadn't intervened, he would have pulled out a gun and eaten the rare beef on the spot!

Look at you, you're getting anxious. You were feeling sorry for Niu Niu at first.

Finally, with the help of professionals, they successfully got the stubborn ox onto the cart.

"This cow has a bad temper, it's very lively and active. And it's very well-endowed, we could try breeding it as a stud." The grandfather and grandson discussed in hushed tones. No wonder it has such a bad temper, it turns out it's well-endowed and good in bed.

A few minutes later, the other cattle were herded onto the truck and successfully loaded. The grandfather and grandson got in, started the truck again, and greeted the driver, saying, "Guests, if you have any more high-quality cattle like these in the future, please consider selling them to us. Our prices are fair!"

"There will be opportunities. Goodbye." Watching the truck drive away, Zhang Ailun counted the $7200 in cash on his hand, took out $1200 as a bonus and gave it to Melvin. He kept $6000 for himself.

I came out fine, but I came back in this state, bleeding. I really feel bad if I don't give them some money for medical expenses.

As for the $2 worth of weapons, they clearly needed to be sold where they belonged. He kept the $44 in cash for himself. His entire fortune returned to $809.

Upon seeing the fragrant American dollars, Melvin's expression instantly changed. His face stopped swollen, his backside stopped hurting, and he longed to drag that cow back for another three hundred rounds. He grinned and said, "Thanks, boss!"

"Let's go back." Zhang Ailun sat in the passenger seat of the Wrangler and let Melvin drive. He searched for Highway 163 and found that it was a bit far, so he simply had Melvin turn the car around and return to the city via the other highway they had come from.

Let's make things a little harder for Johnny, otherwise he might not understand the value of helping someone in need.

A drop of kindness deserves a spring of gratitude. I saved your life, so what kind of luxury car should you give me?

It should at least be a Bentley, Rolls-Royce, Ferrari, McLaren, or Lamborghini, right?

Zhang Ailun was in a good mood and contacted Sieg to ask him how far the gun shop's escort business had progressed and whether a mission list contract had been signed.

Sig: It's already signed, but they didn't come to my door; they asked me to drive to their company's security building to move goods. Several other ordinary private gun shops were also competing for this job. Initially, PMC's PR team was reluctant to give us the job when they heard we were a newly established gun shop, but after I showed them my two-star armed nation certification, they immediately chose to assign it to me!

Zhang Ailun: This is the benefit of seniority and reputation points!!

Sieg: If we didn't have this qualification to cooperate with local military districts, we could only take on small jobs worth a few hundred dollars at the beginning, not even enough to cover fuel costs. Although there was little risk involved in escorting goods, it wasn't profitable either; we needed to slowly build up reputation points and authority.

Sig: From what I understand, upgrading a regular gun shop to a high-reputation merchant, signing contracts with PMCs and major organizations, and unlocking escort missions requires at least two years. The basic requirement is an annual profit of at least $12. For a one-star armed nation, the shop needs to be an established business for at least five years, the owner must have a military contract, have served as a non-commissioned officer, or have worked in a local police station or court, have 3-5 years of experience as a bounty hunter, or at least 3 years of experience as a security guard, and have completed at least one commissioned mission or transaction from a military region.

Zhang Ailun: Is it that complicated?

Sig: Without a doubt, we got a steal. While the Thunderbolt Gun Shop may not seem particularly outstanding on the surface, it has a long history, operating for over ten years, with stable relationships and commissioned transactions within the military region—that's why it has a two-star qualification. This indicates that the former owner was a very influential figure in the circle, undoubtedly knowing many prominent figures in high-end circles. I wonder why they retired so hastily.

Zhang Ailun: Once you've made enough money, of course you want to retire. They're still involved in financial fraud, profiting off the blood of so many people. Who knows when Wells Fargo in Palm Valley will collapse? If it were me, I'd definitely make my money and leave. With so much money, wouldn't it be better to go abroad? You can live a carefree life anywhere.

Sig: You're right.

I chatted with Sieg for a few more minutes. As we approached the city center, a roadblock suddenly appeared ahead, with several police cars blocking the way and making all arriving vehicles line up for inspection.

"Hello gentlemen, this is State Trooper Kevin, Warning 5567. This is my police ID. There's an emergency on the road. Please show me your identification. Please pull over." The state trooper knocked on the window, signaling Melvin to roll it down.

Upon seeing that there was a white person and an Asian person in the driver's seat, their previously wary expressions visibly relaxed.

"Excuse me, what happened, officer? We don't think we've done anything wrong."

Melvin readily produced his driver's license, resting his hand on the car, appearing quite relaxed.

There's no need to worry at all, after all, he's from the Angsa people of the Plain White Banner.

"A Black driver from Florida was speeding on the highway and brandishing a gun, attempting to shoot someone. An accident occurred, but we have already cleared the scene and it will not affect traffic. An investigation revealed that the driver was not only a road rage sufferer but also a cyberbully; he drove hundreds of kilometers to Los Angeles to shoot someone who had insulted him online. Fortunately, we prevented this tragedy from happening! We now need to check vehicles traveling on nearby highways to prevent dangerous individuals from entering Los Angeles and endangering public safety."

State Trooper Kevin explained, and then looked at the Wrangler's license plate number.

Yes, a white driver, an Asian passenger, a Los Angeles local license plate starting with AF, and a Jeep Wrangler worth $60,000.

That's fine.

You are all law-abiding citizens of Los Angeles!

You wretched Florida paupers, here in Los Angeles begging for food? Is this a place you can come to?

Zhang Ailun couldn't understand what kind of person would drive all the way to Los Angeles, California, to commit car chases and murders.

Florida doesn't tolerate idlers; it's truly teeming with talent! Are all the Black people there so hot-tempered?

"Gentlemen, are you carrying any guns in your vehicle?" Kevin asked with a smile.

"Yes," the two replied.

The state trooper paused, then said, "...?"

It wasn't you...

Through the driver's side window, he saw a stack of green boxes on the back seat. Then Melvin pulled out a CCW badge and shoved it in his face, while Zhang Ailun also pulled out an electronic qualification certificate instruction manual from Armed Nation.

State Trooper Kevin, still somewhat skeptical, carefully examined the authenticity before calming down, letting out a long sigh, and chuckling, "Well, gentlemen, that really startled me. I thought we'd run into some terrorists again. You're arms dealers, escorting a shipment of legal weapons, huh? Okay, have a pleasant journey!"

He waved to signal the people in front to let him through.

"Have a good time, officer."

After a cheerful and relaxed greeting, Melvin drove away from the closed road.

Zhang Ailun wasn't worried at all. "I have the certificate, what am I afraid of?"

When passing through the restricted area, I saw private cars parked on the side of the road, and black drivers surrounded by layers of state police, bending over and lying on their hoods.

"Officer, what did I do? I'm a law-abiding citizen!"

"Shut up!! I suspect you're illegally carrying drugs and firearms in your car! I have the right to investigate your vehicle! Hands behind your head! Place them where we can see you! Now! Immediately!!"

The state trooper put his hand on his quickdraw holster, pressed down on the suspect's head, and yelled at the black man. He looked like he wanted to shove the barrel of the gun into his mouth.

The Black driver was extremely aggrieved and obediently cooperated.

Zhang Ailun enjoyed the beautiful scenery for a while and returned to the city safely.

(End of this chapter)