What the hell is the "kill line" when you're in America?

Li Ang's heart skipped a beat.

He was surprised by his own idea.

This system is indeed guiding him towards the true "demonic path" at all times!

How awful!

Li Ang suppressed the turmoil in his heart and looked at Derek.

"Out of stock." Li Ang's voice was devoid of emotion.

"What?" Derek's fanaticism froze slightly. "How could this be? Didn't you come to talk business with me?"

"I told you, what I want is your distribution channels," Li Ang said, looking at him. "I don't want to sell the goods to you."

Derek was stunned; his mind raced.

The other party has better goods than the Golden Embroidery Gang, but instead of selling them directly, they want to use their own channels.

What does this mean?

This means that the other party doesn't value my small-scale retail business.

He wants the entire market!

"You...you want to double-cross us?" Derek leaned closer and whispered.

"Not really," Li Ang shook his head. "I'm just offering a better option."

"You know better than I what the Golden Rust Gang's goods are like." Li Ang paused. "What they can give you, I'll give you double; what they can't give you, I can give you too."

Derek's heart began to pound.

Betraying the Golden Rust Gang will only lead to death.

But......

He savored the unparalleled feeling he had just experienced.

That feeling is enough to drive anyone crazy!

He had no doubt that as soon as this "Ecstasy Pill" appeared, those so-called "heavenly gospels" would be instantly eliminated by the market.

This is a gold mine!

A gold mine that could free him from his current status as a street vendor!

"I...I need time to think about it," Derek said with difficulty.

"Okay." Li Ang nodded. "I'll come back here tomorrow night."

After saying that, he turned around and prepared to leave.

"Wait!" Derek called out to him.

He pulled out all his earnings for the day from his pocket and shoved it into Li Ang's hand.

"This...this is a deposit!" Derek looked at Leon and gripped his hand tightly. "Whether you have any left or not, I want it all! As many as you have! Name your price!"

Li Ang glanced at the crumpled stack of banknotes in his hand, which amounted to about eight hundred US dollars.

He didn't refuse and stuffed the money into his pocket.

"Tomorrow night, still here."

After leaving those words, Li Ang's figure quickly disappeared into the darkness of the alley.

Derek stood there until Leon completely disappeared, as if he had just woken up from a dream.

He looked down at his hands, then touched his still-clear head.

None of this is an illusion.

His lips curled into a greedy and insane smile.

The Golden Rust Gang?

Screw the Rust Gang!

......

Li Ang walked on the deserted streets in the early morning, the night wind ruffling the hem of his clothes.

The system notification was still echoing in his mind, as was the rising death line above Derek's head.

Can the stop-loss threshold still rise?

The "Ecstasy Pill" he refined was essentially a pill that overdraws one's life force.

Strangely enough, this elixir had a remarkable "fighting poison with poison" effect on Derek's body, which had been eroded by chemicals for many years.

Does this mean that the pills he concocted were not harming people, but rather "curing" them?

The moment this thought popped into Li Ang's head, he was startled.

He immediately became alert.

This is yet another instance of the system subtly distorting his Dao heart!

Li Ang squeezed the thick wad of banknotes in his pocket, which was about eight hundred US dollars. Adding what he had left over, he had more than nine hundred dollars.

This amount of money is a huge sum in 12th Street.

But he soon discovered that the money wouldn't get him out of his predicament.

He contacted several real estate agencies, looking for the cheapest studio apartment available.

"The cheapest one costs as much as $1,500 a month! And the most outrageous thing is, you need proof of employment!"

The agent's indifferent face made Li Ang give up the idea.

He's an unregistered resident, unable to produce any proof, and he doesn't even have a decent job, let alone a house.

It seems that having money alone is not enough to get rid of the status of a homeless person.

Li Ang wasted no more time; he needed a place to test his current strength.

After several attribute point adjustments, his physical abilities have far surpassed those of ordinary people.

But he needs a quantifiable standard.

He walked along the street and, without realizing it, left the familiar, dilapidated area of ​​12th Block.

The surrounding scenery began to change.

There is less graffiti on the walls, and the streets have more neatly trimmed green belts.

The roadside is no longer filled with tents and huddled homeless people.

Instead, there were houses with front yards and clean, tidy private cars parked along the roadside.

The stench of urine and rotting flesh disappeared.

Li Ang himself was puzzled. Where had he ended up?

Occasionally, joggers would pass by, dressed in sportswear and wearing wireless headphones.

Above their heads, most of them had light screens displaying "[Kill Line: Medium]" or even "[Kill Line: High]".

This place feels more like another world.

A world completely cut off from the 12th block.

Li Ang's presence was completely out of place in this environment.

Passersby would instinctively keep their distance from him, their eyes filled with undisguised wariness and disgust.

Fortunately, Li Ang had a photographic memory and remembered the way back.

But the question is, why aren't there any homeless people here?

In such a prosperous area, it would be more reasonable for them to come here to beg for food.

And it's clearly just a suspension bridge and a grove of trees separating them...

Forget it, Li Ang stopped thinking about it.

His gaze was drawn to a two-story building with lights on at the street corner.

"PUMP IRON FITNESS"

The neon lights on the signboard outlined the silhouette of a muscular man.

It is a gym.

An excellent place to test strength and endurance.

"I wonder if I can improve my abilities by altering my physical condition." Li Ang glanced at the gym and went inside.

The gym was bustling with noise, and the sounds of various machines rose and fell.

A muscular receptionist wearing a tight vest saw Li Ang.

"Hey, this is a private club, no outsiders allowed."

His tone was very impolite, as if he wanted to expel Li Ang.

Li Ang's gaze was fixed on the men and women who were sweating profusely.

On the bench press rack, a burly man is pushing his limits, the weight exerted by the barbell plates is astonishing.

On the treadmill, a hot woman was running very fast, her vest soaked with sweat.

"How much is a monthly pass?" Li Ang asked as he walked to the front desk.

The receptionist was taken aback, seemingly not expecting that this homeless-looking fellow would actually be there to make a purchase.

"A monthly pass costs thirty dollars; bring your own belongings."

Li Ang pulled a crumpled US dollar bill from his pocket and slapped it on the table.

"cash."

The receptionist's expression changed; he hadn't expected the other party to actually have the money.

He reluctantly gave Li Ang his change and tossed him a bracelet.

"The lockers are over there. Don't break anything, or you'll have to pay for them."

Li Ang took the bracelet and walked straight to the punching bag area.

Arrive at the sandbag.

Li Ang had to test his physical limits.