Being carried onto an ambulance at the start? But this is America!

When the two brothers returned, old Tom looked up and gave them a toothless smile.

"The bread machine is ready, the temperature control calibration is complete, the headphones have new earcups, and the sound quality test is perfect, just like new."

"Very good!"

Li Ping quickly said, "The coffee machine is 800, the camera body is 900, and the beauty device is 560. Everything is agreed upon. The buyer will meet at the entrance of the Methodist Church to complete the transaction."

Of this, Old Tom deserves 20%.

At first, the old man was only willing to take 10%, but Li Ping insisted on giving 20%—Old Tom's skills, experience, and guidance were worth the price.

As for the bread machine and the repaired high-end headphones, there weren't many inquiries, and the offers were relatively low. Li Ping wasn't in a hurry; good things have to wait for those who know their value.

"You two young men are really capable!"

Old Tom rubbed his hands excitedly and gave Li Ping a high five.

The added value of these high-end waste items far exceeds that of ordinary goods. If they are all sold successfully, he can get nearly a thousand dollars.

This is usually his income after working hard for most of the month.

"Old Tom, we'll need your help to go to the church with us later to assist with the handover."

Li Ping glanced at the time. "We have other plans around 5 o'clock, in case the buyer arrives at the wrong time."

"No problem, I'd be happy to!"

Old Tom readily agreed, as he happened to be free that afternoon.

Before setting off, Li Ping contacted Devon and Fletcher again via Wp.

He wasn't entirely confident that the two brothers could explore the alley behind the bar alone, as the card indicated that other homeless people would be vying for it after six o'clock.

Eating alone can be choking; it's better to share. This not only strengthens your bond but also solidifies relationships.

His main target was the gold necklace.

Upon hearing that the back alley of the Fiery Rose might be unguarded today, Fletcher immediately perked up.

Devon also expressed his willingness to participate, earning money through labor without stealing or robbing, which aligned with his principles.

The four agreed to meet at the Wesleyan Church at 4:30 p.m. and then head straight for their target.

Arriving at the small square in front of the church, the sun was shining brightly.

The couple who bought the coffee machine arrived first. They were a neatly dressed, middle-aged white couple who looked like a middle-class family, and they drove a well-maintained Toyota SUV.

The transaction process is simple and straightforward: check the machine, confirm its functions, and then exchange money for goods.

Eight hundred dollars, only three hundred-dollar bills, the rest were twenty-dollar bills, a thick wad, with a pleasant smell.

Li Ping immediately pointed out one hundred and sixty dollars and stuffed it into Old Tom's hand.

"You deserve it, Tom."

The old man held the banknotes, his rough fingers trembling slightly, his face beaming with joy as he patted Li Ping on the back repeatedly.

"Good buddy! Ping, you're a really good buddy!"

Interests are the most direct and strongest adhesive in interpersonal relationships.

Around 4 o'clock, the buyer of the camera body arrived. He was a young Black man dressed in trendy clothes and wearing an earring, riding a modified scooter.

Inspection and payment were equally straightforward.

Li Ping then counted out another 180 dollars for Old Tom.

The old man was grinning from ear to ear; Li Ping's status in his heart had instantly risen to that of his best friend.

The only remaining buyer of the beauty device, a young girl, messaged me saying she might not arrive until after 5 p.m.

Li Ping and others were too late, so they handed the beauty device over to Old Tom.

Just as Li Ping was about to leave, Marina called him back, wanting to confirm whether Li Ping would come to church for worship the next day.

"Of course, Ms. Marina, I also believe in God!"

Li Ping faced the cross devoutly and uttered "Amen".

"Good kids, don't leave after tomorrow's service. A believer is moving and needs a few good young men."

"We'd be delighted!"

Li Ping nodded happily; Marina was just too enthusiastic.

Then they went outside to meet up with Devon and Fletcher.

Devon seemed to have recovered a lot. He bumped fists with Li Fan in a good-natured manner, and the two big guys were able to communicate happily with simple words and gestures.

For him, this was about finding gold through hard work and insight, a clean and honest process that brought him peace of mind.

The four-person team headed towards the sixth block.

Fletcher rubbed his hands excitedly: "Bro, tell me, where did you get this information? They're usually pretty tight-lipped about that lucrative spot in the back alley of Fiery Rose!"

Li Ping remained unfazed and casually made up a story: "This morning, in a gas station restroom stall, I overheard two drunk guys bragging that they had an internal event in the afternoon and that the area was temporarily empty. I made a note of that."

The source of the information is very much in line with the street style.

The four men walked down the street: two Asian youths, a towering black giant, and a man with a dreadlocked braid. Together, they were quite intimidating.

Some homeless people scattered on the roadside or drug addicts huddled in corners subconsciously avoided eye contact or moved further away.

I thought it was a gang leader on patrol.

Don't be fooled by the number of so-called gangs in these poor neighborhoods; they're just intimidating-sounding.

In small gangs, the truly core and capable fighters are only two or three people, while in medium-sized gangs, it's at most four or five.

It's about a group of people getting together to avoid being bullied by another group.

Gangs like the Gray Head Gang can be very fierce in a fight today, calling in a dozen or twenty people, but tomorrow they might have half that number left.

Homeless people? Some are high, some are running away, and they might not be around the next day.

If even the boss could be arrested, the regime would collapse completely in a short time.

Only those truly large gangs that can ensure their members earn a living and even pay taxes legally can be considered to have rules and loyalty.

Drug trafficking is the most profitable, but it's not something small and medium-sized gangs can handle. They don't have stable business channels and can't afford to support their gangs.

If there's no money to be made, who will truly risk their life for you?

Only those small gangs that have stood firm for a year can barely be considered respectable.

In poor neighborhoods, people can only be described as this group or that group; calling them gangs is just putting on a show.

Thinking of the Gray Head Gang, Li Ping asked uncertainly, "Is the Gray Head Gang completely gone now?"

"It's gone!"

Fletcher chuckled, a sound that carried a hint of absurdity.

"That day they were fighting with the Shield, and some idiot pulled out a fake gun to scare people, but the police who arrived mistook it for a real one and shot him on the spot..."

He made a shooting gesture, "Bang!"

As a result, two members of the Shield gang were arrested, and several others were scared away. Isn't that hilarious?

If they had real guns, they would have sold them and bought leaflets long ago. Only cops would believe those things could actually fire.

Li Ping was speechless.

I thought these small gangs were as fragile as paper, but reality is even more absurd than I imagined.

Based on this, the conflict in the eighth block hinted at by the [Minor Fierce] card is probably just a similar-scale chaos.

As we walked and talked, our target neighborhood came into view.

A faint, decadent scent of alcohol and cheap perfume began to waft through the air.

Fletcher stopped, took out a painkiller from his pocket, poured out one, put it in his mouth, and swallowed it dry.

"Let's replenish our energy; we're about to go all out!"

Watching his fluid and effortless movements, Li Ping couldn't help but give him a thumbs up—a true painkiller warrior with a unique way of thinking.

Turn the corner, and the back alley of Fiery Roses comes into view.

The time was a few minutes earlier than indicated by the card, but the alley was already deserted.

Only a row of large, dark green commercial trash cans, reeking of sour alcohol and rancid food, were hidden in the dim light.

Several scavengers loitering nearby were peering around, wondering why this usually off-limits area was deserted.

"Won't the White Crow Gang suddenly appear?"

Fletcher lowered his voice, his eyes scanning the back door and fire escape at the alley entrance with a wary look.

"Their boss, Bai Ya, is a ruthless character. He's a former street boxer who just got out of jail. I heard he can take down three or four people with his bare hands. This alley is under their control; nobody dares to mess with them."

"It seems like there are a lot of gangs in Poor Street?" Li Ping chatted idly while observing the surroundings.

"Because this place is poor and chaotic enough, and it's a hotbed for mentally ill people and drug addicts."

Fletcher shrugged. "Even big gangs like the Crips and Bloods can't handle the homeless mental patients here; they just supply them through middlemen."

Li Ping thought to himself: Even gangsters find mental illness troublesome, as it is an uncontrollable factor.

"The four of us could even form a small gang, let's call it the Bridge Gang, what do you say!?"

No one responded to Fletcher's sudden inspiration.

Fletcher was somewhat disappointed, and the four of them quickly pushed the two carts into the alley.

The back alley is a typical mining area, with the back doors of two bars, a supermarket, and a convenience store all located there.

It contains a large amount of high-value trash and discarded good things.

According to Fletcher, the daily turnover from selling cans alone is several hundred dollars, which is usually monopolized by the White Crow Gang.

Now, this is no man's land.

Li Ping had a clear goal and headed straight for the specific trash can he remembered.

Wearing rubber gloves, I quickly began rummaging through the items, separating the plastic bottles, aluminum cans, and glass bottles for storage.