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Chapter 109: Versailles

Chapter 109 Versailles

"Who are those black people?"

Zhang Ailun asked about the origins of the black gang members, "They look quite arrogant."

"If I were you, I would never think of provoking those guys! They are different from ordinary homeless people. To be arrogant, you need capital, and they happen to have it!"

He has a high level and a gun in his equipment column. There is a reason why he can gain a foothold in Los Angeles.

Homeless people have nothing, and even ordinary police officers can make things difficult for them. Gangs are complex and powerful, and they are basically in collusion between officials and gangsters, spending money to ensure safety. It is possible that the financial backer behind a city councilor is paid by a big gang.

Carl said: "The Moschino Gang is a black gang founded in the Seventh Block in the 90s. Although it is not as large as the largest gangs such as the Crips and the Bloods, it has developed into a well-established gang. An old friend of mine joined this gang and later became a leader in the block, but he died of lung cancer a few years ago."

"Obviously, I wanted to ask my old friend's son to come over and help me vent my anger, but their fees are much higher than the average person. Just teaching a few homeless people a lesson cost me $2000!"

Old Carl felt depressed and sighed: "It seems that I can only find some unreliable people to help me."

You get what you pay for. Although it is expensive to ask gang members to help you, they will really help you when you need them. It doesn't cost much to send a few black gunmen to take the blame, and the employer doesn't have to worry about retaliation.

You find someone to do things for you on the black market app. Although the fees are low, they basically run away after completing one order, for fear of getting into trouble. If those people want to retaliate, you will definitely be their first target.

You don't have to worry about the gangs. After being educated, those people will never dare to provoke revenge again, otherwise that would be a slap in the face of the gangs. Their territory is right next door, and they might not like you one night and drive over in a black car with an AK and shoot at you!

Unless you find other gangs to help you.

Apart from Cripple and Blood, Zhang Ailun had never heard of any famous black gangs. He thought that this was probably a small or medium-sized gang that was getting worse and worse in the general environment. Who knows when the situation became turbulent and their protective umbrella changed, they would be uprooted by the FBI's anti-gang crackdown.

"What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you not to come here to sell cans recently?" Old Carl was a little curious.

"I just happened to pass by, but when I saw that you seemed to be in trouble, I wanted to see if I could help you." Zhang Ailun said.

"Hahaha, you have just established your foothold on the streets, how many people can you have under your command? The water on the streets is too deep, you young people should not be too competitive! How many streets has your little yellow duck expanded to now?" Old Carl said jokingly, while taking out an aluminum bottle of vodka from his pocket, unscrewing the lid and taking a sip.

"Seven and a half?" Zhang Ailun counted. "It was seven and a half before, but we had a friendly negotiation with a street force yesterday, and they are willing to give up their territory and join us, plus the two streets of the Irish, and the automatic recycling machines on major streets."

Versailles said in distress: "Alas, it is too much to count."

"Puff!" Old Carl spat out a mouthful of wine.

She looked at him in shock. "Are you kidding me? Did you wipe out all those sewer rats? When did the recycling machine that Jon occupied become yours? I remember very clearly that those European guys are not easy to mess with."

"I don't feel it."

Zhang Ailun said frankly: "They are quite easy to talk to. We didn't really do anything. Everyone was very friendly."

Old Carl fell into deep thought.

After a long while, he tentatively asked, "How did you deal with those Europeans? Did you beat them with your fists? Did they offend you in some way?"

"They came to my territory, stole my cans, beat up my people, and smashed my garbage truck. I drove over there at night with a submachine gun and a few pistols, and took out his lair." Zhang Ailun said in a flat tone.

"It's not you...wait a minute, are you going to take people with guns over there?" Old Carl's brain froze.

Why did you pull out a gun while you were talking? Isn't this just a street fight between homeless people?

Do you have any moral principles?

"Yeah, so they are pretty easy to talk to." Zhang Ailun sighed.

You've already put a gun to someone's head, just like a gangster, attacking from a lower dimension, it's strange that they can stand up to you!

He who knows the caliber is a hero.

"When did you get a car again?" Old Carl was a little skeptical about his life.

"Two."

Zhang Ailun smiled and said, "An RV and an old pickup truck."

He looked at his pickup truck, took a few glances, and said, "That pickup truck is probably about the same age as your car, and it's not worth much. Only the RV is quite valuable, only $7200."

"..."

That's it? Human language?

Old Carl was speechless. He took two gulps of wine with a dry throat.

No, it's only been a few days since we last met. Why do I feel like your power is growing so fast?

Are you a locust (yellow) insect? You bite everyone you see and occupy every piece of land you see.

You look like you're going to eat up all the streets of Fifth Street. Aren't you afraid of eating yourself to death?

Why don't I join you? The speed at which you make money is a little too scary to be honest.

It took Carl a long time to digest the news. He sighed and said, "The streets nowadays are really hard to understand. We rarely pulled out guns on the streets back then. If we had personal grudges, we would just find an alley and settle them one-on-one."

"So you're not in a gang, you're just a garbage man," Zhang Ailun said.

"You're right, but I don't regret it. I'm also glad that I didn't go down the gang path of no return." Old Carl nodded, chuckled, rubbed his hands and set his target on him.

"You now have quite a large territory and have occupied several recycling machines, but don't forget to come over here and look after me! I've taken good care of your good friend Dominic in the past!"

"Of course I know this, but there are not many automatic recycling machines. They are all placed near convenience stores and ATMs. One machine can only provide 200 US dollars a day. I still have to send the other cans to you to sell." Zhang Ailun said frankly.

"I feel relieved that you have this idea."

Old Carl nodded with relief, but he had no idea that this was just a temporary measure taken by the chief leader.

"Alan, do you want me to do you a favor? Help me find those people who smashed my shop! Don't worry, I won't treat you unfairly! I will hire your people for $1000!" Old Carl patted his chest.

"$1500."

Zhang Ailun stated his bottom line without hesitation. He came here for this matter. "For Dominic's sake, I am happy to help you out."

Old Karl was stunned, feeling like his underwear had been seen through.

"My people have guns, so it's no problem for me to help you scare a bunch of homeless people."

Zhang Ailun explained: "This price is already very fair! If it works, it works. If it doesn't, forget it."

"Okay. But I can't provide any clues. You have to find the person yourself. It might be done by those Mexican short-tailed dogs!" Old Carl thought about it and nodded in agreement.

(End of this chapter)

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