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

Roland glanced at the time, his face growing even uglier, his voice filled with suppressed anger and helplessness.

"It was Nova, she drove my car! My lawyer's license, driver's license, and other important documents that I left in the car were all in there!"

She...she teamed up with the Whale Gang and said they'd come to the camp tonight to collect ten thousand US dollars from me!

She rubbed her face, a mixture of exhaustion and apology in her eyes: "They made an appointment for nine o'clock tonight. I'm sorry, I may have caused trouble for everyone. It's best if you don't stay at the camp tonight."

"Nova has gone too far!"

Camilla was the first to jump up: "That's your car! They're robbing us! Call the police! You're a lawyer!"

"It's no use, Camilla."

Roland gave a bitter laugh, his voice hoarse. "If I call the police and it drags on for a few days, at most I'll get the car back. As for those documents, they can just throw them down a sewer and I'm done for!"

Replacing those things would cost far more than ten thousand in money, time, and effort! And now I…”

She didn't finish her sentence, but everyone understood.

Roland is now practically an undocumented immigrant; those documents are her last fragile link to her past respectable life.

Once completely lost, the difficulty of climbing back up increases several times over.

"I was so stupid..."

Roland covered his forehead, groaning, "I thought she'd at least have some lingering affection, but because I wanted to cut ties with her completely, she colluded with gangs to extort one last sum from me!"

"The Sea Whale Gang?" Li Ping raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I think that's the name."

Roland said dejectedly, "Forget it, let's just pay to avoid further trouble. It's worth it to see her for who she really is."

"Boss,"

Fletcher, who was standing next to him, immediately leaned over and said quickly, "The Whale Gang, they're the group that tried to charge us a toll at the recycling station when we sold the cans last time."

They're even worse than the White Ravens, always getting bullied. With the White Ravens and Holy Shield gone, they've probably taken over a lot of territory recently; I estimate they have twenty or thirty members.

Li Ping glanced at his phone: 7:20.

He looked up at Fletcher and said, "Make a call, get people back."

"Alright, boss!"

Fletcher's eyes lit up instantly, and he rubbed his hands together, eager for a fight. "I've been wanting to get back at those sea dogs for a long time, daring to mess with us!"

He pulled Devon and Li Fan aside, then whistled at Old Mike who was not far away, and the group immediately went to the side to make phone calls.

"Wait, wait a minute..."

Roland was a little confused, looking at the group who had instantly entered battle mode, and then at Li Ping who remained calm.

"You've all joined a gang? Li Ping, you're... the boss? Isn't this Roland Camp?"

"Of course, it's Roland's Camp."

Li Ping smiled at her, his tone relaxed, "Didn't we just set up a bridge-underpass cooperation association? We just gathered some people today, and they'll be put to use right away."

"A cooperation meeting?"

Roland blinked her beautiful grey-blue eyes—she knew this—and looked at him with suspicion. "Are you sure it's not a gang?"

"100% certain."

Li Ping said seriously, "We're a legitimate business; we even have a moving job tomorrow."

Although the current operating model is still very street-style, his goals and direction have never been unclear.

Roland looked at Li Ping, and then at the trusting, even somewhat dependent, looks in the eyes of his fellow campers. His chaotic thoughts suddenly calmed down a bit.

What can gangs do as long as they don't do evil?

She took a deep breath: "Ping, if you can really help me, I will remember this favor."

"Bro, we don't need to talk about this between us."

Li Ping stepped forward and gave her a tight hug, patting her on the back.

The hug eased Roland's stiff body somewhat.

"More people are better."

Roland regained some of his lawyer's composure. "At least I paid the money, they should return my documents."

What she fears most is paying money but not getting the items back, and being endlessly blackmailed.

"Take it easy, Bro."

Li Ping laughed, "Maybe we won't even have to pay."

The phone calls kept coming in.

The first to arrive were several veterans that Old Mike had contacted. They came without hesitation after hearing that their lawyer in the cooperative had been blackmailed by the gang.

There are lawyers in our own organization? That just proves that working for us has a promising future!

Then, Fletcher's newly recruited underlings, as well as their underlings' underlings, began to gather in twos and threes.

When the boss summoned them, and the money was to be paid out tomorrow, everyone arrived in a flash.

The Mexican guy was the most outrageous; not only did he come himself, but he also brought three young, boyish-looking underlings who tried their best to act tough.

"That's great!" Fletcher patted him on the shoulder.

When you're out on the streets, sometimes all you need is a large, imposing crowd.

As long as money isn't a factor, the more temporary helpers you have, the better.

Soon there were more than twenty people, and with everyone in the camp, there were more than thirty people.

Old Mike was ready and loaded his gun.

"Hide them all in the tents first," Li Ping instructed after thinking for a moment.

.......

Meanwhile, in the parking lot of a cheap motel in Los Angeles, next to a slightly worn dark gray Chevrolet, Nova was standing on tiptoe, placing her hand, painted with bright red nail polish, on the shoulder of a bald white man.

Her wine-red hair fluttered in the night breeze, and her heavy eyeshadow and bright red lips were particularly striking in the dim light.

The man she was leaning against was Dalton, the leader of the Sea Whale Gang. He was nearly 1.9 meters tall and wore a tight black T-shirt, his bulging muscles almost bursting the fabric.

He wore a thick silver chain around his neck. He had been living on the streets for over a decade, relying not on ruthlessness, but on the good physique he had built by avoiding drugs and consistently exercising.

Once upon a time, he was a skinny stick. Later, he found the right teacher and discovered that fitness wasn't difficult. He occasionally used Kowloon Fitness and easily built up a big physique.

His large size makes him much more formidable than most street thugs who have been drained of their strength by the leaf industry; his best record is fighting six opponents at once.

Although four of those six were drug addicts who would collapse at the slightest breeze.

After outlasting several incompetent leaders, it was finally his turn to take the helm.

Especially since his old rival Bai Ya was arrested by the police last night after using a gun, his luck has turned around.

"Are you sure that homeless lawyer can come up with ten thousand US dollars?"

Dalton, smoking a cigarette, squinted at the smiling woman in his arms, his tone suspicious.

Can a homeless person save up 10,000 yuan?

So what if he's a lawyer? How much profit can a lawyer who sleeps under a bridge make?

"At least ten thousand, maybe even twenty thousand!"

Nova traced circles on his firm chest with her fingers, her voice soft and sticky, "She takes those shady jobs, helps people with lawsuits, it's a quick way to make money, darling, bring more people with you, she still has a run-down camp after all."

"A bunch of old, weak, sick, and disabled people; the Shield Gang never bothered with them before."

Dalton scoffed, but still waved to the used Toyota behind him.

He originally called for twelve underlings, but only seven actually showed up.

This pleased Dalton; it seemed his prestige had improved recently. Including himself and his cousin, there were a total of nine people.

That's good. Being able to summon so many people at night is enough to suppress a camp.

After all, that wasn't his territory, and too many people going there would draw attention.

A tall, thin man was smoking in the passenger seat of the Chevrolet, while a short, stout man with a fierce face squeezed into the driver's seat.

That was his cousin, one of the few in the gang who didn't use drugs but was still a ruthless fighter.

Once in the car, Dalton showed no interest in Nova's flirtatious glances. If it weren't for the fact that this woman had lost ten thousand dollars in his underground casino and couldn't pay it back, he wouldn't have bothered with such a mess.

He pushed Nova's face away and asked his cousin in the front row, "Have you figured out the details of that bridge gang? How many people are there?"

There was a conflict with the bridge gang during the day, but the police have been keeping a close watch these past few days, so I dare not cause any trouble.

"I've got a rough idea. I heard the leader is an Asian pair of brothers."

My cousin's voice was hoarse. "There are quite a few people, almost twenty. They have strange rules. They don't accept tobacco smokers. They have a general store as their base."

The problem is, there are three tough veterans and two giants, each two meters tall, inside. I don't know how they got tricked into going there.

"Five such capable fighters are all just henchmen?"

Dalton frowned and cursed, "Then their boss will be even more arrogant? Damn it, are all Asians from Chinatown? Once I recruit more people, I'll teach them a lesson!"

He spoke fiercely, but he knew in his heart that most of his men had been weakened by Ye Zi, and if they really went head-to-head with those strong men, they would suffer more losses.

He's already content with occupying three blocks and squeezing out twenty or thirty thousand US dollars a month.

Any more than that, and that's suicide.

As for the Fiery Rose Bar in the Seventh Block, which can attract customers, I'm tempted but don't dare to touch it for now.

His dream wasn't grand; he just wanted to save up $500,000 and then retire back to his hometown, leaving the gang to his cousin.