Huayu: I'm reborn, but you still force me to be a scumbag?

Chapter 395 The Masked Boy
"Shit, is that for real? That masked guy is using an iPhone?"
“Claro, Lo vi mientras contestaba el teléfono en secreto.” (Yes, I saw him secretly taking the phone.)
"How could he afford an iPhone?"

"Who knows? Maybe he brought a lot of money with him when he came from China. Let's go to sleep."

Aren't you afraid he'll steal your job?

"Impossible. You can tell from his appearance that he can't do anything."

"Really? But he's Chinese. I once knew a Chinese person, and I know how smart they are and how fast they learn. I hope you won't regret it later."

Juan Martinez rolled over dismissively, ignoring the woman's words, and soon his snoring filled the entire room.

Juan slept until 2 p.m. before waking up.

By this time, Valeria had disappeared.

He picked up the old T-shirt and jeans he had worn the day before from the bedside, put them on, then went into the cramped bathroom, splashed his face with cold water without even brushing his teeth, and left the dilapidated apartment he shared with seven or eight other undocumented immigrants.

He hummed a folk song from his hometown in Mexico, holding a leftover tortilla from the day before yesterday, and swayed as he ate it as he walked towards the pizzeria.

Juan never arrives early. His position at the pizzeria is kitchen helper, mainly responsible for washing vegetables, cutting ingredients, cleaning the kitchen, and assisting the head chef.

For a Mexican with nothing, this job was pretty good, since it didn't require identification and the boss was willing to pay in cash, saving him a lot of trouble.

As usual, Juan arrived at the store right on time.

But as soon as I entered the kitchen, my heart skipped a beat.

The masked guy who came the day before yesterday had arrived much earlier, and he had already chopped a huge pile of onions on the cutting board.

"Puta madre!" Juan cursed silently in his mind in Spanish, a sense of urgency rising within him. Uncharacteristically, he didn't even smoke a cigarette and rolled up his sleeves to get to work.

We worked from 4 pm until after 10 pm, and then we took turns eating dinner.

Juan took a piece of leftover assorted pizza from the previous order from next to the oven, chewing it while glancing sideways at the masked young man.

Compared to two days ago, the other party's work movements were visibly much more skilled.

At that moment, Juan suddenly recalled the woman's words from last night, and a sense of unease flashed through his mind.

At 2 a.m., a busy day finally came to an end.

Juan has been in the United States for seven years and is used to this kind of work intensity.

He watched the masked guy wiping his sweat and thought to himself, "Get out of here. If you can't stand it, just get out. There are plenty of jobs in New Orleans that pay $4.5 an hour. Why come here?"
Later, when the boss went into the kitchen to settle their wages for the day, Juan was surprised to see that the masked kid had received the same $45 as him.

“Jerry, why does he get the same amount as me?” Juan immediately exclaimed, speaking in Mexican-accented English, “I’ve been here for seven years, and he’s only been here for three days!”

"Perhaps it's because he arrived two hours earlier than you?" the pizzeria owner, Jerry, said coldly. "Do you have a problem with that, Mr. Martinez?"

Juan reluctantly shut his mouth.

At 2:30 a.m., the pizza shop finally closed.

Juan dragged his tired body out of the store.

In late March, New Orleans was undeniably damp and chilly in the early morning. He walked back along the familiar streets, still brooding over his wages. "Only three days... why am I getting the same amount..."

Just then, a voice suddenly came from behind: "Hey, Juan, is that Juan? Wait for me!"

Juan was taken aback, turned around, and saw it was the masked kid. He said irritably, "What is it?"

The other person said, "Halo, I see you're going this way too. Want to go home together? I also live in this direction."

"Where do you live?"

"Mid-City".

“I live in Tremé. It’s not too far.” Juan thought for a moment. It would definitely be safer for the two of them to be together. He had been robbed seven times in the past year, and he was really fed up.

"Alright then, let's go together."

On the way, the masked boy was quite talkative, and kept asking him all sorts of questions.

He answered in a half-hearted manner.

"Yes, my wife and two children are in Mexico."

"Seven years."

"Of course they won't come. They don't speak English, and I couldn't support them in America."

"My rent is $200 a month."

"Because I found a woman who, like us, rents a place together and sleeps in the same bed, so everyone can save money."

"No, she's not Mexican, she's Dominican. New Orleans has people from all over the world, Chinese, Mexicans, and Dominicans. Hey man, you'll see when you stay here a while, it's the freest place in the world."

He not only answered questions, but also asked the other person a lot of questions.

It turned out that the masked man was Chinese. He and his girlfriend had come from Tijuana by smuggled boat because they were in debt. He had a skin condition that made him sensitive to sunlight, so he always wore a mask.

"Parece que te cae bienél?" (You seem to like him quite a bit?)

Back in the apartment, Valeria listened to him finish speaking, her tone tinged with a hint of sarcasm.

"How can it be!?"

"Then why did you talk so much with this Chinese kid?"

Juan recalled it and also found it quite strange.

Because he knew he absolutely disliked this masked young man. Who would like someone who seemed like they could steal their job? Finally, he figured it out and said to Valeria, "I think that guy must have been a rich man in China before."

"Oh? Why? Because of his iPhone?"

"No, it's his attitude towards others, his mannerisms, the way he speaks... that's why I let him lead me by the nose."

"Haha, you think he's the BOSS?" Valeria laughed. Although the cook, who was over 40, had long lost her smooth skin, her eyes still held a mischievous glint, making her look like a young girl.

This ignited a fire within Juan, and he roughly tore off the woman's clothes and pressed himself against her.

……

……

The second day, the third day, the fourth day,
In the blink of an eye, that masked kid has been at "Jenny's Pizza" for a week.

Juan was relieved at this point.

Although the masked boy still arrives very early every day, his movements are becoming more and more efficient.

However, he must have never done any work before, and he had never cut vegetables before. His knife skills were terrible. He could work 12 hours and still not be as good as Juan working 8 hours.

Juan was puzzled. Why would Jerry, that miser, be willing to hire such a person and pay him extra every day? And why was he spending more time in the kitchen than before, and why was he intentionally or unintentionally lingering around that masked kid?
Juan couldn't quite understand it.

However, a series of events that followed immediately made him forget all about it.

On his way home from get off work, he had just parted ways with the masked guy when he encountered two cash-strapped "smokers" who not only robbed him of his money but also hit him hard on the head with the butt of a gun, leaving him bleeding and suffering a concussion, forcing him to take a day off.

Just then, he received a call from his wife in rural Mexico. His youngest son had contracted dengue fever and needed to be hospitalized, so she wanted him to send another $500 back home that month.

But when Juan arrived at the pizzeria injured and asked for an advance on his wages, he was ruthlessly refused.

Later that evening, when he returned to his apartment with the money in his pocket, he felt a mix of emotions.

“Qué?Te prestóél el dinero?” (What? He lent you money?) Valeria's eyes widened in disbelief after hearing his words. “How much money did he lend you?”

"$200."

"$200!? No interest?"

"Yes."

Valeria shook her head incredulously, muttering a few words to herself.

Juan didn't hear clearly, but he could roughly guess what she was saying.

Yes, so much money, and the masked guy only listened to his pleas on his way home before giving him the money the next day.

This feels like something out of a movie!
but.

Anyway, with this $200, plus the money he had saved before, he had $500, which he could send home tomorrow.

By this time, Juan's opinion of the masked boy had changed drastically, and he felt a sense of gratitude.

Although the masked boy didn't say when he needed to return it, Juan secretly resolved to save up the money as soon as possible to give it to him.

After these things happened,
He wasn't in the mood for pleasure that night.

Even when Valeria sat on him, shaking her flat chest in an attempt to arouse him, he remained as unresponsive as a dead fish.

Finally, amidst the woman's foul curses, Juan turned over, covered his ears with a pillow, and fell into a deep sleep.

……

……

$200 was all it took for Juan to completely accept the Masked Boy.

On his way home from get off work that day, he finally agreed to share some survival tips for New Orleans with the other person.

"The area around Mid-City is pretty safe, unless you go into those alleys. Otherwise, as long as you're dressed in shabby clothes, no one will usually rob you."

"Of course, there are exceptions, like when those white trash and black bastards have sucked all the money, like what happened to me the other day. I advise you if you encounter that, don't resist, just hand over all your valuables. I know a Puerto Rican who, just because he couldn't bear to part with a watch, guess what? His hand was chopped off."

"If you're walking at night, never wear headphones or keep looking down at your phone. Many guys prey on people like that."

"See that? Half of the streetlights here are broken. Those gangsters love to sell their goods on this street corner. Especially near Canal Street, there are gunfights every now and then. You absolutely must stay away from there."

"And then there are those street racers, driving around in modified cars in the dead of night. Sometimes they're drunk and they'll take their anger out on random people. If you see them, you'd better run away."

Finally, Juan couldn't help but remind you: "Most importantly, when you're walking, always be sure to look behind you to see if anyone is following you."

"I've noticed you rarely look back, which isn't good."

"understood."

A deep, husky voice came from beside him, making Juan turn his head to look at the other person.

After all, he remembered that just a week ago, the masked boy wasn't like this at all. He was very lively and cheerful.

But now, just over a week has passed.

The eyes behind the mask were bloodshot, just like the eyes Juan saw in the mirror every day. His shoulders were no longer straight, but slumped slightly.

His iPhone is nowhere to be found; now he's using a beat-up Nokia, just like him.

His hair was a mess, his T-shirt was covered in oil and flour stains, and there were several small cuts on his fingers, which were carelessly covered with cheap bandages.

When eating, he no longer took small bites, but instead, like Juan, he would stuff the food into his mouth in a few bites, wipe his mouth casually with his sleeve, and then continue working.

Juan once saw him get burned by the oven, but he only frowned, muttered "Mierda!" (shit) in Spanish under his breath, and then continued working.

What Juan found even more familiar was the masked boy's expression—

That kind of numbness to the surrounding environment.

He used to always look around, as if he was interested in everything, but now he has learned to keep his head down and work, and when he occasionally looks up, he only glances around quickly.

On the way home together that evening, we talked less. Unlike when we first arrived, we didn't ask each other any questions. Instead, we walked in silence.

Honestly, Juan saw a reflection of himself in him.

He couldn't help but shake his head inwardly.

He had no idea what this masked young man had gone through in those few short days, besides work.

But clearly, New Orleans has taught this young Chinese man a good lesson.

It must be New Orleans, it couldn't possibly be him, right?
Hahaha.

This moved Juan so much that he looked back for the first time after they parted ways at the street corner.

"shit!"

Juan called out softly.

Under the dim streetlights, the masked boy walked ahead, but about several dozen meters behind him, two strong figures followed at a distance.

"Damn it!" Juan cursed under his breath, then anxiously watched the masked boy's retreating figure, muttering, "Turn around, turn around and take a look, Motherfucker, turn around!"

But he didn't look back until the masked boy disappeared around the street corner.

Juan's heart was pounding.

How to do?
He doesn't have his phone number.

Should we follow them?

Damn it, this guy must have been targeted by someone for some reason.

For the sake of that $200, Juan had an urge to rush over and remind the other person.

But it was fleeting.

He shook his head, sighed, and whispered, "I told you. Turn back, you must remember to turn back."

He then turned around and walked towards his apartment.

Juan thought he definitely wouldn't see the masked boy the next day; there was a 50% chance he'd disappear without a trace, and a 50% chance he'd take leave.

However, to his utter surprise, when he arrived at the pizza shop the next day, the masked boy was there early, just like always.

"WTF, LEE, why..."

"What's wrong?" The masked boy looked up, puzzled.

Juan immediately shut his mouth.

If we want to get to the bottom of this, we'll have to tell him everything he did last night, which is hardly something to be proud of.

"Why do you come so early every day? Aren't you tired?"

The masked boy shook his head and said, "It's alright."

Juan nodded, a hint of guilt in his voice, and asked, "Want to come to my place after get off work tonight? Want to grab a drink?"

The masked boy paused for a moment, seemingly hesitant, but finally nodded and agreed.

Clearly, Juan's bed partner was initially somewhat unhappy that he had brought a stranger home without saying a word.

The room, which was about ten square meters, had no furniture or appliances except for a dirty mattress on the floor. Clothes were scattered everywhere, with bras, underwear, and other garments strewn about.

Any woman with a shred of shame would not want to receive guests in such an environment.

However, Juan soon noticed that the woman became happy.

Especially when the masked boy pushed his mask up a little, revealing his mouth, Juan noticed that Valeria's eyes suddenly lit up even more.

After drinking, the masked guy became more talkative again.

However, this time the person he was interested in was Valeria.

Why did you come to America?

How long have you been in the United States?

What's your hometown like? Do you have any siblings?

"How did you manage to cross the border illegally? Did you encounter any danger along the way?"

"How do you usually spend your time here?" Valeria wasn't annoyed by these topics and chatted happily with the masked boy.

Later, she also revealed her experiences in a drug rehabilitation center before she started washing dishes at the restaurant, as well as her time living with an illegal Chinese immigrant.

"What happened to the last person?"

"He's dead. Anyway, I haven't seen him since 05. Although some people say they saw him in the Garden District and that he made a fortune, I don't believe it."

"So, he's dead, definitely dead. He was probably targeted, killed by a gang, robbed of the money he had worked so hard to save, and then thrown into the sea. Poor guy, I heard he had a daughter waiting for him to send money back home."

Juan took a sip of his drink and said, "What's wrong with that? Aren't we all like that?"

Valeria said, "That's right, so I didn't cry, I just sold the things he left with me for $3."

"Hahahaha, well done!"

Juan clinked glasses with Valeria and took another sip.

The masked boy was silent for a moment, then asked, "Where are the police? Aren't they going to do anything?"

Juan and Valeria both laughed when they heard this naive question.

"The police? What police would care about the life or death of an illegal immigrant? Besides, how could people like us possibly call the police? In the end, the criminals wouldn't be caught, and we'd end up in the immigration detention center ourselves," Juan said.

Valeria nodded and said, "In America, we don't call the police; we take care of ourselves."

The masked boy nodded: "So what do you want to do in the future? Continue doing what you're doing now?"

This question was even more childish. Juan laughed so hard he spat out his drink, while Valeria clutched her stomach, laughing so hard she almost fell over.

Juan laughed and said, "Otherwise what? Of course, I'd love to get a legal driver's license and ID so I can become a food delivery driver. The salary would be twice what I earn now, and I'd get tips every day while driving around."

Valeria agreed, "You might even be able to sneak into the Oscars and get Angelina Jolie to sign your autograph."

"Hahahaha!" Juan burst into laughter. "Yeah, that lucky guy might just be me. Hahahaha!"

……

The three of them drank until dawn before the masked young man finally said goodbye and left.

As soon as the door closed, Juan grabbed Valeria by the neck, pinning her against the door, and asked jealously, "Bitch, do you have a crush on him?"

Valeria chuckled, her green eyes flashing that alluring look that made Juan's heart itch again. "So what if it is?"

As she spoke, she brought her mouth close to Juan's ear and whispered, "Don't you want to... um? Try it with three people?"

"Tú, puta barata!" Juan gasped for breath, his hands groping the woman's body.

The pain made the woman frown slightly, but her expression was one of immense pleasure. Valeria reached out and stroked Juan's face.

"The moment he walked in, the moment I saw his eyes, I couldn't help myself. Then I saw his chin and mouth... oh, I guarantee he must be incredibly handsome under that mask. At that moment, I was thinking..."

"Puta, you puta!" Juan finally couldn't help but curse viciously as he listened.

He had Valeria by the throat, and was about to go further.

Suddenly, his Nokia rang.

"Leave it alone."

Valeria, like a female animal in heat, her expression frenzied, slapped him hard across the face with a loud "smack." "Did you hear that? Ignore it. Hurry up, hurry up!"

"No, wait a minute."

Juan didn't continue, because nobody in the world would call him except his family in Mexico. Valeria knew this, and he knew it even better.

The phone rang so early; something important must have happened.

Juan answered the phone, and sure enough, his wife's anxious voice came from the other end of the receiver.

In Mexico, his youngest son has been transferred to the intensive care unit due to a worsening of his dengue fever.

Not only that, but half of their roof was blown off by a torrential rain last night and urgently needs repair; otherwise, the family would have nowhere to live.

The materials and labor for repairing the house will cost at least 5000 pesos, and with medical expenses, he will need to send at least another $2000 back home.

As Juan listened to the phone call, his heart felt as if it had fallen into an abyss.

His monthly income is $1200. After deducting rent and basic living expenses, he can save $700. He usually sends $650 home and keeps $50 for himself.

However, he had just sent money back home two days ago to treat his youngest son's illness, and he had no savings left. Now he only had the $40 he received yesterday as wages.

$2000!

Where can he look?

"Don't cry, I understand. I'll think of a way. I'll send the money back to you tomorrow." Juan comforted his wife calmly for a few moments before hanging up the phone.

Valeria, now back to normal, sat down beside him and asked, "What's wrong?"

After Juan finished speaking, the woman shrugged and said, "I'm sorry, but I can't help you, Juan. You know how much money I have. I send more money home every month than you do."

Juan said, "I know. I didn't expect anything from you."

"So what do you plan to do? Borrow money from loan sharks? I need to make this clear beforehand: if you borrow money from loan sharks, you'll have to move out of here. I don't want my home to be a mess."

“Damn it, Valeria, you… I hadn’t thought of that either.”

"Then where else can you get money? Sell your blood? Or find a gang and sign a contract to transport goods?"

“No, none of those.” Juan gritted his teeth and said, “Valeria, I remember you know a few… right?”

"That's right, what do you want to do? Let me remind you, they're not going to rob a bank with you."

"Of course it's not about forcing my way. I just want them to do this... afterwards, I'll split the profits 50/50 with them."

Valeria fell silent, looking at Juan thoughtfully.

Juan said anxiously, "Valeria, please, I know you like him, but! Nothing will happen, I won't hurt him, I just want him to give us some money, I know he has it, he brought a lot of money from China."

Valeria smiled and said, "Juan, you think I'm thinking about that? No. I'm thinking, if you and they split it 50/50, where is my share?"

……

……

That evening, as Juan and the masked boy walked out of the pizzeria, Juan's heart pounded with nervousness.

Before leaving, the masked boy seemed to have noticed something, staring at him for a long time and asking him if something was wrong.

Fortunately, he had anticipated this situation and gave a reason. The masked guy didn't suspect anything, went to the restroom, and then went out with him.

Walking on the dark road under the dim lights, the thin Juan seemed to blend into the shadows, forming a stark contrast with the tall and slender figure next to him.

He kept having random thoughts running through his mind.

Can you blame me?
Don't blame me.

Who told you to be rich?

Anyway, in New Orleans, for a newbie like you, sooner or later your money will belong to someone else.

Why don't you give it to me? Then I can teach you how to keep it in the kitchen.

Juan suddenly heard the other person say something.

“What?” he asked.

"Don't you notice how quiet the streets are tonight?"

Juan's heart pounded even faster. Why did he suddenly say that? Did he really see something?
No way.

The person is waiting at the intersection.

Juan's plan for tonight is simple.

He planned to follow the masked young man to his apartment, then have two thugs hired by Valeria coerce the young man into going home to get money. He would take 30%, Valeria 20%, and the two thugs 50%. Based on his observation, the masked young man definitely had the money!
It's his habit of not looking behind him when he walks.

Juan felt his plan was foolproof. Besides, the masked kid certainly wouldn't dare call the police unless he wanted to be deported, so there wouldn't be any problems.

Juan forced a smile and said, "Really? Isn't it the same as before?"

Chen Nuo said, "Perhaps. By the way, I have to go. I just wanted to let you know."

"Huh?" Juan asked in surprise, "Where to?"

"Change jobs."

"Changed jobs? You found a new job?"

"Correct."

"what for?"

"acting."

Juan laughed heartily, completely disbelieving: "An act? An act!?"

Seeing the masked boy nod seriously, Juan found it even more amusing. "Are you going to perform as a clown on the street?"

"No, I've already acted in that kind of role."

"Hahahaha, Li, you're very humorous."

"Thank you, I do hear people say that often."

Juan stopped laughing as he laughed.

what happened?

The masked guy seemed to have reverted to his original tone of voice when he first arrived.

Did he really see through it?

Fortunately, it was only those few words, and then the other party fell silent again, returning to their usual behavior, which greatly relieved Juan.

After a while, we arrived at the intersection where we had parted ways a few days ago.

"I'm leaving, bye."

"Ok, bye."

Juan watched the masked boy walk away, then looked around nervously, a sense of unease creeping into his heart. According to the plan, the two thugs Valeria had hired should be waiting for him here.

What about Keren?
The intersection is now deserted; there's not a soul in sight.

Just as the masked boy was about to disappear around the corner, Juan was about to chase after him without hesitation when suddenly, two people emerged from a small alleyway on the street they had come from.

Juan breathed a sigh of relief and rushed over, complaining, "Where did you go? Hurry, he wants it..."

Before he could finish speaking, Juan suddenly stopped in his tracks and shut his mouth.

Because a dark gun barrel was pointed at him, and the people in front of him were not the two thugs Valeria had found for him at all. They were tall, wearing jeans and leather jackets, and looked somewhat familiar.

Juan suddenly remembered.

Aren't these the two people who were following the masked guy that night?!
He forced a smile and said, "Hey, buddy, what's wrong? You must have mistaken me for someone else. I don't have any money. The one with money isn't me, it's that guy in the mask. He's already gone. But we can still catch up with him now. He's very rich, really. Then you..."

"Shut up!" The man with the gun coldly interrupted him, then sheathed his weapon, signaling him to be quiet.

Another man stepped forward and searched him with practiced ease, his movements clean and efficient, as if he had received professional training.

Juan's heart raced, and he asked in horror, "Cops!? You're the COPS?"

“Wrong, that was before.” The man who spoke first smiled slightly and said in a relaxed tone, “I don’t do it anymore, the salary is too low.”

"Then who are you people?" Juan's voice trembled, filled with surprise and fear.

“We are private security personnel,” the man replied calmly. “Our duty is to protect the safety of our clients. Your actions have posed a potential threat to our clients, so we will hand you over to the police in accordance with the law.”

He paused, then pointed to the dark alley. Juan then saw that the two thugs Valeria had hired had been subdued, their wrists handcuffed, and they were sitting on the ground with their heads down, saying nothing.

"We have already called the police, and they will be here soon to take you away."

"What! No, no, no, you have no right to do this!" Upon hearing "police," Juan immediately thought of the immigration office. He panicked and struggled, shouting, "Let me go! Who are you people! Please, let me go!"

Juan's desperate roar echoed through the quiet streets of New Orleans late at night as he struggled desperately.

As he had told the masked boy before, although the police usually turn a blind eye to illegal immigrants like them, if you go to the immigration office yourself, then the immigration office will inevitably be your final destination.

However, the two men were clearly professionals. They ignored his shouts, and one of them quickly took out handcuffs from his waist and cuffed his hands with a standard move, decisive yet without unnecessary violence.

Juan struggled desperately, but to no avail.

He seemed to see the faces of his wife and children before his eyes, and they appeared to be crying at him.

He had absolutely no idea what was going on.

Why did the perfectly good plan suddenly get ruined by these two people who popped out?

These two people, what exactly are they?
A word he had just heard suddenly popped into Juan's head.

Private security?

who?

Who are they protecting?

Just then, a figure wearing a mask became clear in his mind.

he?
he!!!
Fuck, who is he?

How could he know what I was planning to do today? Why did he seize the opportunity so decisively?
Juan felt like he was going crazy, but at that moment his mind was working incredibly fast.

He suddenly remembered the restroom the masked boy had gone to before they left the pizza shop together.

Could it be that they were exposed at that very moment?

Juan couldn't help but cry out, "Was it Li? Was it Li who told you? It's a misunderstanding! I swear, it's all a misunderstanding!"

The two men in jackets exchanged a glance and then laughed.

One of them said, "Poor fellow, he knows nothing."

Who could have imagined this?

"Yeah, a full level-one team of eight people, protecting them in shifts 24/7. I really don't understand."

"Haha, to be honest, I'm not surprised at all. If I were him, I would definitely do the same. Just think about the numbers in my bank account. I would definitely protect myself too."

Juan was completely bewildered. But he was also certain that his absurd guess was correct!

He couldn't help but yell, "Can you call Li? Brother, I want to apologize to him. I was wrong, really! It's not what he thinks. Please give me a chance!"

The sirens were already ringing in the distance.

Juan's desperate pleas were to no avail. Looking at the indifferent expressions of the two large white men, his heart sank deeper and deeper.

Just then, he suddenly felt a cold sensation on his face.

It turned out that a few drops of rain had suddenly fallen.

Finally, exhausted, he collapsed to the ground and managed to ask with difficulty, "Can you tell me who he is?"

“Go back and watch TV,” said a man in a jacket.

(End of this chapter)