America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

Martin watched as two black men walked past them on the street, his hand unconsciously going under his clothes, gripping the gun handle, and after the men had walked away, he said, "Why does it feel like we're in Iraq?"

Bruce replied, "There are no weapons of mass destruction here."

At that moment, black smoke drifted over as a battered van drove by, stopping in front of the Black Bar.

The van's door opened, and several armed men escorted three black youths out.

Martin recognized one of them; he had bought beer from him a few nights ago, and the other black guys seemed to call him Fred.

Bruce remembered them too: "The ones who robbed the Black Bar?"

Martin said, "Seems so, looks like they got caught."

Bruce moved to the passenger side of the Ford, signaling to Martin to hurry up and open the door, then said, "Broken arms and legs are normal, fingers could easily be chopped off."

Martin, who rarely dealt with black people, asked, "What are they thinking?"

"Grew up in the worst mire, no skills, no knowledge, no exposure; theft and robbery are already part of their lives," Bruce pointed to his head: "Plus, emotions run high, hard to control."

Martin opened the car door, asking, "What if I wished someone a bunch of black babies?"

Bruce got into the passenger seat and chuckled: "You're too vicious!"

After dropping off Bruce first, Martin got home, parked the car in the backyard, with the Carter family's house next door shrouded in darkness.

After a quick wash-up, lying on the repaired wooden bed, Martin took the check out of his pocket, placed it under the mattress, reminding himself to cash it tomorrow, as carrying it around or hiding it at home was unsafe.

In the Clayton Community, the poorer you are, the safer you are.

Vincent kept his promise and paid the full 10,000 US dollars.

Martin received a 15,000 US dollar reward from Vincent and also got rid of the 6,000 US dollar high-interest loan principle.

He roughly calculated his income and expenses; his former boss Max had generously given him 3,000 US dollars, and he earned 1,800 US dollars for a three-day shooting of "People from the City".

Plus his hourly wage and tips from bartending.

The major expenses were for the gun and the car, including several purchases of bullets for shooting practice, the car's down payment, the first installment, and various other expenses including Elena's living costs.

Martin hadn't checked his account in a while, but with the new 10,000 US dollars, he was certain his account balance was definitely over 20,000.

Money is courage; having capital means you can be bolder in your actions.

Suddenly, Martin remembered something; he still owed Elena rent.

Living in someone else's house and dealing with big business worth hundreds of millions, not paying rent seemed a bit hard to justify.

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In an apartment in the Midtown area, Scott stepped out of the bathroom after showering.

Sophia sat on the couch in shorts and a tank top, her developed thigh muscles and well-defined abs on display. Pointing to the water and pills on the coffee table, she said, "Take them."

Scott walked over and saw they were painkillers, quickly shaking his head: "I'm not sick, why would I need these?"

Sophia didn't urge him but pointed to the bedroom with an open door: "Let me lay down the rules. Aside from the bathroom and this room, all other rooms are strictly off-limits, understand?"

Scott, cheekily approaching, said, "As long as I'm comfortable, everything else is negotiable."

Sophia tossed him a full-face mask: "Put this on, and follow me."

Scott chuckled, playing a mysterious game?

He put it on his head and Sophia led him into another room.

With the crisp sound of the silver handcuffs locking, Sophia shouted, "You're under arrest!"

A black rubber baton was gripped in her hand.

Soon, Scott screamed in agony, regretting not taking any painkillers.

Resistance? Sophia directly pulled out a gun and pressed it against his mouth!

For Scott Carter, it was a miserable night and an unforgettable one in his life.

Finally, daylight broke, and Scott, with his legs splayed, leaned on the wall and shuffled outside.

Sophia sat on the sofa, with a silver handgun in front of her, "I've called a car for you; it's at the front of the apartment."

She picked up a cellphone and tossed it to Scott, "Keep it on 24 hours, at my beck and call. You know the consequences of not answering the phone, right?"

Scott wanted to cry, but upon seeing Sophia pick up the gun, he obediently stowed away the cellphone, "I know."

Recalling Vincent, Sophia grabbed her bag, found no cash or checkbook inside, and stood up saying, "Wait here for a moment."

She opened the door to a tightly sealed room and walked in.

In the brief moment the door was ajar, Scott sneaked a peek and saw some boxes inside.

Sophia came out shortly after, throwing a stack of 20-dollar bills to Scott, "Your service fee."

Scott's expression instantly changed, and he felt much less pain, saying, "I promise I'll be at your service whenever you call!"

Sophia waved her hand, "Go."

"Goodbye." In Scott's view, compared to the freeloading Jack Davis and his son Martin Davis, Sophia was much more noble.

At least she paid.

......

In the morning, in the Carter family's yard.

Elena looked at the messily snipped wire fence and said, "Damn it! I'm going to break Scott's nose!"

Martin pulled off a piece of wire, "I'm free during the day; I'll buy some to fix it."

Harris stepped out of the house, "If you buy new ones, you're just giving Scott money for nothing."

After thinking for a moment, Elena said, "I'll figure out a way to get some wooden ones; they're worthless, so he won't touch them." She asked Martin, "Did you get the wood for the bed repair from the church cemetery?"

Martin countered, "Are you planning to dig up the cemetery?"

Elena was speechless, "I'm not as twisted as you are, you moron!"

"Can we talk about this later?" Lily, with her phone in hand, came out, "Scott says he's injured and asks us to pick him up outside the community."

As if she hadn't heard, Elena said, "Let's go back and have breakfast."

Lily hung up the phone and was about to speak when she noticed Martin's hand was less than eight inches from his head and promptly kept quiet.

Five people sat around the dining table, eating slices of bread and fried sausages.

Martin remarked, "Breakfast has been quite generous lately."

Elena nodded her purity ring, "The idiots at the Methodist Association and the Methodist Church really admire me; they always give me a bit extra meat."

After drinking a glass of milk, Martin said to Elena, "Figure out how much rent I owe you when you have time."

Elena nodded, "I'll find the accounting book later and check the exact amount."

Finding her chance to interject, Lily said, "Is it the end of the world or something?"

Martin glared at her, "Don't push me to the point of beating a minor!"

Lily picked up her cup and took a sip of milk, with countless swears rising from her stomach, crashing against her tightly closed teeth, bulging her cheeks.

After breakfast, Martin drove Elena to the Methodist Church, then he got in touch with Bruce and headed to the gun club to practice shooting that morning; in the afternoon, he called Jerome.

His most respected platoon leader had found out quite a bit of news about that film crew from Los Angeles.