America: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 91 Close-Range Ultimate Attack

Zhang Ailun: Okay, I'll take it. Please help me get a CCW certificate.

Fake document vendor: I have two channels. One is compliant and legal but time-consuming, and the other is time-saving and labor-saving but illegal. Which one do you want? The time-saving one is more expensive.

Zhang Ailun: It's legal.

Fake ID vendor: [Secret Code] You need to register your real name information and fill out the written test on this website. After approval, you will be notified by email to go for an offline assessment. Although we can guarantee that you will pass the initial written test 100%, you still need to master some security knowledge and shooting skills.

Zhang Ailun: So I need to get certified myself for this legal and compliant thing? I spent $400 just to get an opportunity for an offline assessment? What about the illegal ones?

Fake document vendors: Ordinary people simply don't get this opportunity. Only police academy graduates and military veterans can get approved. If you don't have time, you can pay another $200 to hire a professional to take the exam for you! Or you can hire someone to go yourself; they can pay $50 to enter the exam room by card. I can recommend proctors for you—they're all on the same side and won't make things difficult for you.

Fake document vendor: It's illegal. We can get it for you directly, but you'll have to bear the consequences.

Zhang Ailun: Okay, then I'll just take the test myself. You can bribe the proctor for $50? Isn't that too cheap?

Fake document vendor: You don't need to think like that. It's no different from taking a driving test. Examiners take many such cases every day. Each person pays $50, ten people pay $500, and a hundred people pay $5000. The examiner is only responsible for getting your people into the testing room, not for getting you a certificate. Everything needs to be backed by solid back-end data.

After all, it's a bit too absurd that someone who can't even assemble or use a gun, knows nothing about how to protect people, and whose mission is supposed to be protecting the employer, would actually hide further away than the employer when something goes wrong.

When you take your driving test, you need to know how to steer and press the accelerator, right? You can't expect to find a job later and sit in the passenger seat while your boss and employer drive for you.

Zhang Ailun chose the legal and compliant process, but he wasn't very confident about it. He might have to take the offline assessment several times, each time costing $50. If he got stuck, it would cost several hundred dollars more. After all, he had never attended a military or police academy, so he could only place his hopes on Sieg.

Sieg was also surprised by his idea. "Are you going to get certified? Or are you going through a middleman?"

"Don't say that. I need a legal permit to legally own a gun! But all I know is how to pull the trigger, and I'm not even sure I can shoot accurately. I don't know how to protect others, and I don't understand any theoretical knowledge. So I need you to take the test for me."

Although Zhang Ailun was confident that he could pass the assessment through practice and learning, the time and effort he put in were not proportional to the benefits. For him, time was money, and if he could spend money to skip the process, there was no need for him to take the initiative.

Your marksmanship is poor, but you can practice it gradually.

If you don't earn money, you won't even be able to afford bullets.

Those gang leaders and bosses are high-class people; they definitely bought their licenses. They'll spend money if they can. Fighting and killing are things done by brainless and powerless thugs. Don't be fooled by the street thugs who seem to be shooting all the time; they're the ones who end up in jail, taking the blame, and getting shot.

If you're out in the game and you don't have skills, connections, or money, you're just a nobody.

After considering it, Sieg agreed. The offline assessment was a piece of cake for him; he was 100% sure he would pass. What stumped most people was actually the preliminary written test; 99% of people failed at this stage.

Those who want this job must have practiced diligently in private; they are basically all skilled marksmen.

But what's the use of being a good shot? There are plenty of good shooters out there, are you going to let you pass them all?

Those auditors, seeing that you have no connections, no background, and haven't paid any money, will just cross you out and deem you unqualified.

I'll only work for you if you pay me. Why should I work for you if you don't pay me?

Everyone else has paid but you haven't. What makes you think you can pass? If I let you pass today, that would be the biggest irresponsibility towards the customers who paid!

The main focus is on being conscientious and responsible.

Zhang Ailun logged into the [mysterious code] website on his mobile phone, filled in his personal information, and then began to copy the standard answers.

I finished all the questions in a few minutes, then submitted them and waited for the notification.

Someone will take care of it for him behind the scenes; after all, he spent $400!

During this time, Sieg also assembled the remaining handguns. After obtaining Zhang Ailun's consent, he chose to hide the guns in the RV, since it was not safe in the tent, which was not an indoor environment.

The bullets and firearms were stored under Zhang Ailun's bed and in the wardrobe in his master bedroom, and they were kept separately.

With the addition of weapons, the group paid no attention to the trouble that was about to come. Even if the other side had guns, they couldn't withstand the firepower of submachine guns.

A dozen minutes later, the sound of horns rang out, and high beams shone from the street. A dilapidated Ford pickup truck drove recklessly into the bridge-underground camp, then swerved and came to a stop in front of everyone.

With the car window rolled down, jarring rap music blared out, a jumbled mess of noise; the horn clearly wasn't any good.

Several slovenly Black men got off the bus shortly after.

These guys are definitely street kids, because everyone's pants are drooping, with half their butts showing. Authentic West Coast style!

The leader, an older black man, was wearing a red vest, gold rings on his hands, and a large gold chain around his neck. He swaggered over, speaking in a rap-like black accent.

"Hey guys, let's talk about something! Who's Jennifer here?"

Several black men, carrying baseball bats and fruit knives, walked over. They casually lifted their shirts, revealing black, unarmored weapons, their faces full of arrogance and domineering swagger.

Zhang Ailun's eyes lit up when he saw the various equipment they were wearing.

Is this gold chain really that thick? If it is, isn't this just like home delivery?

"That's me. You're the people Matt Spencer sent, right? Just to get revenge on a woman like me?" Jennifer stepped forward and sneered, "Gender equality, huh?"

Old Hei was immediately stunned, not expecting that the other party knew their purpose.

They exchanged a glance, and he immediately said, "Since you already know, then we don't need to waste any more time. Men and women are equal!!"

"Look at you, baby, you're so sweet-looking. It's a shame you're not a movie star."

When Old Black saw Jennifer, with her blonde hair and blue eyes, a quintessential American sweetheart, he was instantly smitten. He wanted to change his mind and not fully honor his promise to his employer; he needed to at least let them vent their frustrations first.

"Fxxk you!"

Jennifer wasn't going to let them get away with it. She gave them the middle finger and started yelling, "You bunch of orphaned niggers! Go back to your mothers' moldy holes and start over! Do you need my help? Or do you want me to whip you and send you back to the African savanna? Texas farms are where you belong!"

Holy crap.

I just unleashed my ultimate move right in front of you!

Zhang Ailun and the others were stunned.

(End of this chapter)