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

[Special Ability: Path Network (The network of roads you've traveled is like a living map in your mind, allowing you to sense your surroundings. The faster you go and the more complex the environment, the more accurate your senses become.)]

A thought flashed through Li Ping's mind: "This thing is a bit like fog of war?"

Almost simultaneously, a huge, gray-white network map suddenly unfolded deep within my consciousness.

It is a three-dimensional network woven from all his footprints from childhood to adulthood.

Dongda University, the painted route he took when he smuggled himself in, the cells in the juvenile detention center, the densely packed streets of the poor neighborhood, the coordinates of the bridge-underground camp, the elegant curves of the Bibo Manor, the neat grid of the Albu community, and all the other communities he visited, he rummaged through every corner of the trash cans...

The unfamiliar locations were shrouded in darkness.

His location, on the east side of Manla Park, was a slowly flashing red dot.

"Built-in offline Google Maps?" Li Ping was somewhat disappointed.

He has a pretty good memory; drawing maps in his head isn't difficult for him, though he might not be that detailed.

But the next moment, he froze, the afternoon breeze brushing against the back of his neck.

The static map suddenly came to life.

Centered on the red dot, an area of ​​several meters in radius rises from the two-dimensional plane and transforms into a three-dimensional, flowing sensing field.

Eight meters to the left, there's that crooked oak tree, the worn-out bench behind it, and the trash can next to it...

An elderly couple walked towards us, pushing a shopping cart. Their pace, direction, and even the path they were about to take were all clearly displayed in the sensor.

It's like opening an eighth orifice, adding infrared sensing.

It's a 360-degree view, which, combined with the homeless person's "survival instinct," is perfect!

"Does higher speed equate to more accurate sensing?"

Li Ping pushed off with his feet, slung the trekking poles over his shoulder, and began to run faster.

The induction field expands silently, like mercury spilling onto the ground.

Fifteen meters, twenty meters, twenty-five meters, as he passed a public restroom.

A faint sense of touch penetrated the wall; someone was in the third cubicle from the left, squatting. There was no urinal. It was a woman...

At 30 meters.

The sensory field stopped expanding; he had reached his maximum speed.

This ability makes you a humanoid radar with a range of 30 meters when you're running. What if you were driving?

It should cover a wider area.

However, aside from performing in Fast and Furious movies, he hasn't thought of any other role for the time being.

As his thoughts cooled, Li Ping scanned the card panel deep within his consciousness once more.

The three cards have been refreshed today.

[Xiao Ji: There's an abandoned police car with the radio still inside; it can monitor all police channels in the city.]

[Xiao Ji: A Cadillac Crockwood armored vehicle has been idle for a long time and has multiple problems. It's about to be sold at a low price. A homeless person in the slums might be able to perfectly repair it.]

[Major Danger: A series of robberies targeting ride-hailing drivers is underway. Be aware of the danger.]

"The prompt has changed!" Li Ping's eyes lit up.

The concept of seeking good fortune and avoiding misfortune shifts from the perspective of a "homeless person" to that of a "driver," and is essentially all related to vehicles.

The first one, Xiao Ji, is monitoring police channels? He's not vigilante Spider-Man, so he won't need that.

The tragedy had nothing to do with him; he wasn't a ride-hailing driver, so we'll skip that.

His gaze fell on the second small lucky one, the Cadillac Cwood bulletproof edition.

He immediately pulled out his newly bought phone and swiped it rapidly with his fingertips.

This 1990s bulletproof car is in decent condition and would fetch at least $20,000 on the secondhand market.

Without hesitation, he selected the card with his mind, and more detailed information and images flooded into his mind like a tide.

Albu Community, No. 91.

A tightly closed garage door slowly rose, revealing a well-preserved extended Cadillac, estimated to be over six meters long, lying quietly.

The owner had taken the car to a repair shop, and it would cost a lot of money to fix, so he wanted to sell it for $6,000, but the starting price was $5,000.

If this extended version is in good condition and can be repaired, it will fetch $30,000, a sure-fire profit.

At the same time, another scene emerges on the edge of the poor streets.

A Dodge van, nearing the end of its life, was parked crookedly next to a trash can. Beside it sat a white homeless man, about thirty years old, with a stubble beard and blond hair in a messy bird's nest, who was using a screwdriver to disassemble a broken radio.

Beside him, a seven or eight-year-old boy with freckles all over his face was holding a tattered car repair manual and carefully flipping through it.

Miles, the mechanic who could fix that car, was a homeless man.

Li Ping thought for a moment, "It's not just about fixing it once; he's a homeless person who can repair cars."

He strode out of the park with his outdoor gear bag on his back and flagged down a Toyota taxi.

Let's buy the car first.

"Albu Community"

Twenty minutes later, he stood in front of the guard post at the entrance of the community.

Gray received the call and quickly drove over in his white property patrol car, getting out with just the right amount of enthusiasm on his face.

"Li, it's only been a few days, and we're meeting again. What business is it this time?"

"Buy a car."

Li Ping got straight to the point, "Number 91, I heard Mr. Germain is selling a Cadillac."

Gray raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised, but didn't ask any further questions.

He opened the passenger door: "Get in, I'll take you there."

The patrol car drove past rows of neatly manicured villas in Albu.

Gray gripped the steering wheel, a half-smile playing on his lips: "Your connections are really good. That old Germain from car number 91 just met with a few car dealers last week. What, you want to take him on too?"

"Yes, I'm somewhat useful, and I want to acquire me." Li Ping nodded seriously.

"That car," Gray shook his head and lowered his voice.

"It looks glamorous on the outside, but it has a lot of problems inside. Old Germain used to drive for the senator and was a bodyguard. That Cadillac was the senator's retired car, a bulletproof version, which he gave to Old Germain."

He's been reluctant to drive it and doesn't have the money for major repairs. The car is old and breaks down frequently, so he can negotiate a much lower price.

He paused, his tone subtle, "There aren't many Black people in our community, but old Germain is one..."

Gray specifically emphasized Black people and said quite a bit, and Li Ping seemed to detect discrimination in his words.

Li Ping nodded: "Thanks, it's great that you told me so much."

"You're welcome," Gray smiled.

It wasn't just about profit; this young Asian man was very capable and had a good relationship with their boss.

A few days ago, Flora actually called him personally to inquire about Li Ping and the others.

Gray became even more attentive.

The patrol car stopped in front of a somewhat old villa.

The lawn had just been mowed, and the trash cans were neatly arranged. The owner's pickiness about the property management was unsettling.

Gray didn't stand on ceremony, striding up the steps and pressing the doorbell.

A deadly barrage of knocks.

"Jerman, are you home? Open the door!"

A moment later, the door was suddenly pulled open, and a black man blocked the doorway.

He was extremely tall; even with a slight hunchback, he was estimated to be over 1.9 meters tall.

He must have been as strong as a mountain when he was young, but now all that's left is a broad frame and dark skin.

His short, gray hair clung to his scalp, and his eyes were cloudy; he was an unusual old Black man.

"Grey."

Germain's voice was deep. "I've mowed the lawn three times in the last few months, and I haven't taken the trash cans in even once. What more do you want?"

"Don't get agitated, Germain!"

Gray raised his hands, took a half step back, and smiled broadly. "It's not the HOA that's causing you trouble today, it's this gentleman."

He stepped aside to let Li Ping pass, saying, "I want to see your car."

Germain's gaze fell on Li Ping's face.

He stared at the young, handsome, well-defined Asian face and remained silent for two seconds.

"Asian." This is not a question, but a statement.

There was no anger or obvious hostility in his tone, only a certain scrutiny and contempt.

Gray frowned immediately: "Hey, buddy, you didn't sound very polite to my friend."