Allen Zhang: You’re way more of an expert in this area than I am, so what do you think is the more reliable option? Those Black people are engaged in illegal business, they wouldn’t dare to go to the police.
Blitz: Then I can rest assured and hack into their back-end network to make every slot machine pay out with the push of a button. This way, he can lose tens of thousands of US Dollars in a day and wouldn’t dare open for business again for at least a while.
Allen Zhang: Ok! I’ll wait for your good news.
For an amateur this might seem as hard as scaling the heavens, but for Blitz, it was as easy as snapping his fingers - after all, he could remotely control bank ATMs to dispense Gold Coins, let alone a few slot machines.
After neatly dealing with Black’s issue, Allen Zhang simply called up a Beggar Gang Disciple who was free, one of the five elders of Kunlun, the Navy Sergeant Melvin.
Using the map to search and locate, each person took a car and drove to a small town in the countryside to purchase a batch of alcoholic goods.
It took a while to reach the small town. Allen Zhang also contacted those white hoodlums selling the alcohol goods via mobile phone, who were quite surprised to receive the call; they hadn’t expected someone to place an order just after listing it online and even offering to collect it in person.
Allen Zhang brought his people to assemble at a factory on the western side of the town, and the town’s youth quickly rode over on their motorcycles.
The leader got off his motorcycle, showing off a bit with his leather jacket, a cigarette dangling from his lips, hair dyed in colorful streaks, and his hand wrapped in a bandage.
But when he spotted the familiar Jeep, the white guy suddenly seemed to have a brain freeze, his expression a bit stiff, and he turned to leave.
"Hey! Where do you think you’re going? Are we doing business or not?" Allen Zhang noticed their arrival, got out of the car, and felt a bit of deja vu seeing their backs.
When he noticed the tightly wrapped arm, he quickly remembered something.
"Damn it, is it you, kid?"
Allen Zhang immediately pulled a pistol from his tactical chest pack and barked, "Stand still! Or I’ll shoot!!"
"Man! Boss! We haven’t done anything illegal! Haven’t caused any trouble!! Please don’t shoot!"
The lead white thug’s scalp went numb as he hastily raised his hands and turned around, the others halted in place, clueless as to what was going on.
Allen Zhang walked up with Melvin and glanced at his motorcycle. "A motorcycle, huh? New purchase? You stopped robbing gas stations and started selling bootleg alcohol? You know that’s illegal, right?"
"We didn’t break the law! Those Brandy bottles are from a gang of smugglers from the last century, hidden in a cellar. We just happened to dig them up from a treasure map, finder’s keepers for unclaimed goods."
The white guy sounded a bit aggrieved and stubbornly said, "What a coincidence, Boss, to run into you again. That motorcycle we left behind last time, is it still working for you?"
"How would I know if it works? I never used it. I’ve sold the motorcycle, barely made any money."
Allen Zhang put away his pistol with annoyance and then waved it off, "Forget it, our scores were settled last time. I’m here purely to purchase the batch of goods you guys have. You’re an old friend by now, what’s the wholesale price you can give us? Those century-old beverages, they must be expired by now?"
"Boss, you’re really something else, joking like that. A woman is like a fine wine, the older the better. A woman can still be charming after decades, let alone those beverages!" The white guy forced a smile.