America gains both fame and fortune

Chapter 58 Happy America

In the evening, just before dark, in an abandoned wooden house not far from Clayton.

Boyet sat on a small box, reached into his crotch with one hand, put it to his nose and smelled it, and immediately felt refreshed.

Opposite him, sitting on the tattered sofa and wooden chairs, were four black men who were darker than him.

They also wore black clothes, which made them easy to miss.

One of the bald men said, "Boss Bo, we just got this place. Do you want to steal the market? You have a higher status in the gang than us, but we are not afraid of you."

Boyet said, "Tom, I'm here to discuss business with you."

Bald Tom raised his finger and shook it: "We are not short of money."

Jerry, the dreadlocked kid next to him, pulled out a tequila box and opened it ostentatiously, revealing rolls of US dollar bills inside.

Boyet stood up, opened the box, kicked it over, and many rolls of 20-dollar bills fell out.

“Come with me and take the shit out of this Clayton neighborhood,” he said. “This is all yours.”

Tom asked, "Who's that piece of shit?"

Boyet remembered the information collected by Adam Smith, and asked his familiar APD about the situation that day, and had some guesses in his mind.

And then there was the matter of robbing customers after 10 o'clock. With all the new and old hatreds, who else should we deal with if not that piece of shit? He said, "That guy is a small actor and seems to have some money. Let's go together, catch him and fuck him. Whatever we can squeeze out of him is yours."

The two black men, Spike and Butch, couldn't help but agree.

Tom, who was a little more intelligent, stopped them and asked, "He lives alone?"

Boyet nodded: "I live alone in a rented house."

Dreadlocked Jerry came over and whispered in Tom's ear: "Five to one, the advantage is on us."

Tom looked at the banknotes on the ground, then looked at the tequila box. There was a big difference.

Doing what he is best at, what almost penetrates his soul, he didn't think about it anymore and said, "We'll take this job."

Boyette smiled and took out his M1911 to check the magazine.

The other four also prepared their pistols.

Tom glanced at Boyette's clothes, took out a set of black and handed it to him: "Put on these, we are the kings of the night!"

Boyet changed his clothes immediately.

Dark skin and black clothes, a perfect match.

…………

Inside the Clayton community, there are still a few dim street lights on, which makes people feel a little more at ease than the darkness outside.

Wearing shorts and a shirt, Martin checked the doors and windows one by one and returned to the sofa.

The shotgun was placed under the coffee table, within easy reach.

The bedroom door creaked, and Elena sneaked out, jumping up and throwing herself on Martin.

Just as Martin made a move, he heard the bedroom door open again. He turned his head subconsciously and his eyes caught Lily's face.

"Fuck!" Elena also noticed it and turned back angrily.

Martin casually pulled something out from under the coffee table and threw it at Lily.

The pink kettle hit the door frame.

The sound of the kettle falling to the ground startled someone in the other bedroom.

Hall, holding a baseball bat, and Harris, holding a pistol, both ran out.

Whatever interest Martin and Elena had had was now gone.

The latter got up and growled, "Go back to sleep!"

The two bedroom doors closed and Martin turned off the desk lamp.

He covered himself with a blanket and didn't know how much time had passed. He was dreaming about taking on three women single-handedly when he suddenly heard the sound of cans rattling.

Martin, who had also trained with Bruce many times, immediately stood up, picked up the shotgun, and went to the window to check the situation.

There was the clattering sound of cans again. The wind couldn't make such a loud noise.

Martin heard a noise behind him and glanced back to see Elena coming out barefoot, holding her shotgun.

"I heard a noise and saw you," she said.

Martin asked her to take shelter behind the masonry support wall.

He looked outside. The street lights were far away and it was pitch black outside. He couldn't see anything.

Elena felt a chill and couldn't help asking, "James crawled out?"

Martin heard faint voices and was about to distinguish them carefully when suddenly a scream was heard.

“Ah—” Then I heard a familiar curse: “Who the hell dug the trap? And put nails in it!”

The trap was of course set by Hall. Martin decided to scare the people over there away and shouted, "Who are you? Get out of here! I have a gun..."

Before he could finish his words, he heard gunshots and subconsciously shrank his neck.

The people outside heard the sound and fired shots. In the dark night, no one knew where the bullet went.

“That’s the bastard!” The familiar voice shouted again, “I’ve seen the late-night drama he filmed, and that was his voice just now.”

Martin looked around and saw that it was pitch black outside and he didn't know where the person was. He raised his shotgun and fired a shot through the open window based on the direction of the sound.

boom--

The sound of gunfire completely broke the silence of the night.

"Fuck! Kill that bastard!"

There was a burst of gunfire, luckily they were all pistols.

Elena fired another shot from another window, and the bullet flew into the sky.

Martin shouted at her, "Don't show your head! Don't let the three idiots in the house come out. Call Wood and the others and ask the neighborhood allies to come to support you."

Instead of calling the police and hoping for the APD to arrive, it is better to rely on the newly formed neighborhood alliance.

Elena took Martin's phone and called Wood and others one after another. They had been awakened and immediately said they would come to support.

The gunfire outside stopped. Martin extended his gun barrel and fired four shots in a row, regardless of whether he saw anyone or not. Then he quickly squatted down to reload bullets.

There were no screams outside, but there were sounds of pistol shots.

boom! boom--

Gunshots were heard in the distance, and the neighborhood allies came out, with more than a dozen guns firing.

"Let's go!" The people outside were not stupid: "Boyet, there are a lot of them, let's go!"

The voice shouted angrily: "Tom, don't call my name! Are you idiots! Jerry, I sprained my ankle, come and help me!"

The cans rattled again, and Martin opened fire again, firing five rounds in a row.

"Ouch! My butt!"

Martin was lucky and hit one with his shotgun.

More gunshots were heard, and someone outside shouted, "Go, leave Boyet alone, his ass is bruised and he can't get away!"

Martin reloaded his gun and waved at the three idiots who opened the door and peeked in: "Go back! Don't come out to get yourself killed!"

Harris told his younger brother and sister to go back to their rooms quickly, and he stood guard at the doors of the two bedrooms with his pistol tightly in his hand.

The sound of car engines could be heard outside, and the headlights of several cars illuminated the road in front of the door.

Nani's loud voice rang out: "Martin, Elena, you two dogs are still alive, right?"

Martin, to be on the safe side, did not show his head and shouted back, "We're fine, I think I shot a son of a bitch!"

Valencia shouted excitedly: "Look, there's a black guy with a bruised butt! Martin, blow his back door with a bullet!"

Martin boasted: "My shooting skills are so good that one against two, one against three is no problem."

Wood then said, "Come out, it's okay."

Martin stuck his head out to look, opened the door, pointed the gun toward the sky, and walked out.

Wood reminded: "Don't run around, protect the scene." He said: "The blacks attacked the community houses, and we were forced to defend ourselves."

The others responded with a roar.

The bad things that happened tonight made them feel threatened, and they will be more united in the near future.

Wood called the police again, went to see the black man, and said, "Natural camouflage, born criminal."

Martin came to the yard fence and saw Old Black groaning in pain.

Black skin, black bald head, black clothes...

No wonder he couldn't see anyone.

This natural advantage is too great.

Looking again, Martin found that he knew Boyette, the owner of the black bar.

"You bunch of rubbish, don't be happy too soon!" Boyet's butt was bruised, but he was still threatening: "The South City Gang will not let you go!"

Martin turned the butt of his gun and hit Boyet hard on the mouth: "Fuck you, idiot!"

Most of Boyet's teeth were hanging out of his mouth, and he made a leaky sound when he spoke.

Martin shouted: "Everyone saw it. He fell down by himself."

The others laughed and echoed: "Yes, he fell!"

(End of this chapter)