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

After discussing for a while, everyone gradually returned to their tents to rest.

Li Ping specifically pulled Fletcher aside and gave him a few more instructions, the core of which was just one point.

It's fine to hire people to boost morale, but you absolutely cannot hire drug addicts or people who are obviously mentally unstable. Better to have none than to hire the wrong kind.

"Don't worry, Bro, I understand."

Fletcher patted his chest and assured him, but Li Ping, seeing his eager look, felt that he wasn't entirely reliable.

But he didn't have a more suitable candidate at the moment. To control a recycling point, the few men in the camp were indeed not enough.

External forces must be introduced, but care must be taken to avoid being overtaken.

In the stillness of the night, Li Ping lay down in his sleeping bag, habitually waiting for midnight to fall.

At exactly twelve o'clock, the three cards appeared as expected.

[Xiao Ji: Inside a trash can on Ninth Street, there's a relatively new smartphone, abandoned by its owner.]

Li Ping's gaze swept across the Ninth Block.

That was the very heart of the slums, a paradise for drug addicts and dealers.

A relatively new cell phone that was thrown in the trash can?

The possible backstory is chilling, and it's not worth risking such an uncertain gain.

[Middle Alert: Gang conflict escalated in the early hours of tonight. Some members may have infiltrated your camp while fleeing, bringing unpredictable risks and trouble.]

[Very unlucky: The wounded, armed fugitive is still hiding deep in the slums. If you can subdue him and extract a confession, you may have unexpected gains.]

The third [very unlucky] option still involves that wanted criminal with a fever, so it will not be considered for now.

His gaze was fixed on the second [Middle-level] card.

"Gang conflict escalates... Infiltrate the camp..."

The thought of the White Crows and the Holy Shield merging together gave me an ominous feeling.

Choose the [Middle Misfortune] option.

Without further hesitation, he prioritized the cards that concerned his own safety, which was the purpose of checking the cards first thing every day.

The card flips over, and the silver lettering seems to carry a chill:

At 4 a.m., the Shield Gang raided the White Crow Gang's headquarters. The White Crow Gang members were outnumbered and blocked in the abandoned parking lot of the 7th Street.

Enraged, White Crow opened fire, resulting in losses on both sides. Some participants sought refuge at your camp, bringing the police with them.

At the same time, a scene flashed into Li Ping's mind:

Eight or nine men stormed into the White Crow's lair, striking first to gain the upper hand and leaving their opponents bloodied and battered.

The two sides chased each other to an abandoned parking lot, where the leader, White Crow, became enraged and drew his gun, shooting and injuring two men.

After emptying his magazine, Bai Ya didn't run away. Instead, he rushed forward while the other side was in a panic. As expected of a street boxer, Bai Ya dodged left and right and smashed several people to pieces, closing the gap.

In the end, both sides were injured and bloodied, and they began to sit on the ground to talk.

A moment later, they heard police sirens, exchanged a few harsh words, and then helped each other disperse.

Both sides were seasoned veterans. Although they fought fiercely, they actually held back, and the guns were only fired at the legs. No one wanted to take the blame for a murder over a trivial matter.

Three men with shield tattoos on their arms secretly hid in their camp under the bridge, and the police surrounded the camp at dawn.

"grass!"

Li Ping suddenly sat up in his sleeping bag, his heart pounding, his back instantly soaked with cold sweat.

At four in the morning, the police started a search. This was a complete disaster!

They had just seen a glimmer of hope for climbing up the ladder, but before the bridge-underground cooperative could even get off the ground, it could be uprooted by a random street brawl.

Once taken away by the police, he and Li Fan, being undocumented immigrants, would be exposed with a little questioning.

What awaits them may be triggering immigration proceedings, or even worse.

"It's just a moderately dangerous situation."

Li Ping's breathing quickened as he forced himself to calm down and analyze the situation.

Surviving on the streets is fraught with danger.

Gunshots were fired, people were injured, and the police report is there. If they don't arrest a few people, the police won't be able to explain themselves to their superiors and the public.

The police must make the arrests, that's for sure.

Since the trouble is destined to flow, let's just cut off the source!

The fiery battles were fought between the core members of both sides, and even the leaders themselves.

If the police could arrive on time, and the ambulances could happily sound their sirens and take both groups away in one fell swoop, wouldn't this neighborhood be much quieter?

A bad thing has turned into a good thing!

"Moreover, after they ran out of bullets, they engaged in a bloody battle in the parking lot, resulting in mutual casualties."

Li Ping recalled the details.

"The parking lot was cleared of its magazines around 5 PM. The fight lasted over ten minutes, resulting in both sides sustaining heavy losses. They then argued for another ten minutes before the sirens finally went off..."

He quickly calculated in his mind that the gap of ten minutes or so might be an opportunity!

He zipped up the tent, letting in the chilly early morning air.

The campsite was eerily quiet, with only the occasional flow of traffic from the overpass overhead.

"Fletcher, Devon!"

He lowered his voice and knocked on each of his companions' tents, "Wake up, it's urgent!"

They then called Li Fan, and the three sleepy-eyed and wary faces quickly huddled together.

Li Ping succinctly explained that he couldn't sleep and went out to relieve himself, where he stumbled upon a plot by a few young members of the Holy Shield Gang. At four in the morning, they launched a surprise attack on the White Crow Gang's hideout.

"We don't need to get involved ourselves."

Li Ping grinned, his smile somewhat cold in the dim light. "Time it right, anonymously report it to the police, and then kindly call a few ambulances for them."

"Once the cops handcuff him and the ambulance takes him away, won't this area be ours?"

Fletcher's drowsiness vanished instantly, and his dreadlocks nearly burst open.

"Boss, is the news accurate? If they're really gone, we can still eat whatever we want from those recycling points!"

The biggest obstacle to occupying the recycling point is the Holy Shield gang; if this roadblock falls first...

"Even if it's not approved, what will we lose?"

Li Ping's tone was calm, yet carried an undeniable authority: "But what if it's approved?"

Devon didn't speak, but silently clenched his fist. He raised his head, his dark face looking particularly serious in the shadows.

"Boss Li Ping, we... we really are going to do legitimate work, right?"

"Calling the police is to stop them from committing crimes, right?"

"certainly!"

Li Ping met his gaze and said firmly, "We are a cooperative association, not a gang. We just want to better clean up the trash."

Devon, having received the assurance he most desired, nodded emphatically: "Then let's go take a look!"

With the plan finalized, the group decided to take a short nap before setting off at 3:50.

The abandoned parking lot isn't far; we'll make it in time.

Time ticked by.

At 3:30 a.m., Li Ping opened his eyes on time. The [Wanderer] app made the fatigue from staying up all night barely noticeable.

He crawled out of the tent, and the other three started moving almost at the same time.

Fletcher popped two painkillers into his mouth, swallowed them dry, and muttered, licking his lips, "Just trying to perk me up..."

Devon inspected the baseball bat, while Li Fan silently flexed his wrists and ankles.

The slight noise startled Mike, a veteran in another tent.

The tent zipper was silently pulled open a corner, and Mike instinctively put one hand on his waist pack, peeking out warily.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was Li Ping and his group, and loosened his grip on his waist bag.

"Damn it, I thought it was some stink bugs sneaking into the camp."

Mike's voice was hoarse, carrying the lingering smell of alcohol, but more so, it carried the instinctive alertness of a veteran.

"Hey guys, what are you doing raiding someone's place in the middle of the night?"

Li Ping hesitated for a second, but still concisely laid out the plan.

After listening, Mike's dim eyes lit up in the early morning light, and he smacked his lips, surprisingly excited.

"Clean up the streets to pave the way for the cooperation meeting? Hey... that sounds more exciting than drinking."

"Wait for me, guys! How can we have a party like this without old Mike?"

Fletcher rolled his eyes: "Come on, old Mike, we're going to keep watch and call the police, not to fight in a bar."

"Bullshit, who do you think you are?" Mike was provoked and muttered as he crawled out of the tent.

In front of several people, he untied the old fanny pack that he never parted with.

Then, he pulled out a long, thin object.

It was a well-maintained black semi-automatic pistol, its metal parts gleaming with a cold, eerie light in the dim light.

Next to it was a laminated gun license with worn edges.

"fight?"

Mike snorted, expertly inspecting the gun with movements as fluid as muscle memory. "With your few lousy sticks, what good are they if something goes wrong!"

Fletcher jumped in surprise: "Holy shit! Old man, you didn't sell it to buy more wine?!"

"Sell?"

Mike carefully tucked the gun back into his waistband, concealing it with the hem of his jacket, and sneered, "I'd rather sell myself than sell it. Some things are my lifeline."

He instinctively reached for the bottle, but stopped halfway through, patted the bottle, and didn't drink.

"No drinking tonight, business is more important."

He looked at Li Ping, the hardcore aura of a veteran reconnaissance soldier emerging in his eyes, "Kid, I'll take command. Infiltration, surveillance, seizing opportunities... I'm more familiar with this than you guys."

Li Ping looked at the dark pistol, his heart skipped a beat, and then a strong sense of security welled up inside him.

A seasoned former reconnaissance veteran, armed with real weapons, volunteered to join?

Can't ask for it.

"Thank you, Mike," Li Ping said, reaching out to firmly grasp the old man's rough, calloused hand. "With you here, we feel more confident."