Being carried onto an ambulance at the start? But this is America!

Throughout the morning, Li Ping's mouth hardly stopped.

Once he receives something, he will open it and taste it whenever it's convenient.

The homeless man's highly efficient metabolism allowed his stomach to become like a bottomless pit, frantically converting cheap carbohydrates and fats into energy and gradually building muscle.

"Brother, please don't eat... I'm scared."

Li Fan watched his brother wolf down his food, feeling deeply worried.

"I've just recovered from an illness, and my body is very depleted; I need to replenish it through diet!"

Li Ping explained vaguely that he needed to recover his emaciated body as soon as possible, as this was the foundation for his survival.

By noon, their shopping carts were piled high like a small mountain: hamburgers, sandwiches, boxed lunches, donuts, and all sorts of drinks...

With the help of a detailed route chart, the jungle clearing was very effective, and there was enough food for two strong men to eat for a whole day with some left over.

In poor streets, it's not just relief stations and churches that distribute supplies; there are also mobile food trucks and individuals.

Finally, the two collected their last set of clean shorts, a t-shirt, and a pair of slippers, marking the end of their jungle adventure.

The goal for the afternoon is to collect cans and make money!

There weren't many opportunities to collect cans while receiving relief in the poor street area this morning.

Because there are so many competitors, there are probably several pairs of hungry eyes in front of each trash can.

However, Li Ping did not forget the more than one thousand US dollars mentioned in the [Undetermined] card.

He decided to scout out the location first.

When the afternoon sun is at its strongest, there are few pedestrians on the street.

Li Ping, with Li Fan in tow, happened to pass by No. 86, Fifth Street.

This is an abandoned two-story building.

The roof on the second floor has largely collapsed, exposing the reinforced concrete frame to the air.

Almost all the doors and windows had vanished, and the walls were covered with layers of graffiti, resembling a giant, filthy palette.

Just like the image shown in the card prompt.

Li Ping slowed down, pushing the cart, pretending to tie his shoelaces, and quickly scanned the house.

There are people on the first floor.

Three young Black men were inside the room, while two smaller Black men stood at the door. Each of them wore a gray cloth strip to identify themselves.

There were five people in total. Although they were listless like homeless people and not very vigilant, their numbers were enough to create a deterrent.

We can't force it.

After confirming his suspicions, Li Ping continued walking forward without making a sound, and at the street corner he saw an old homeless man dozing off wrapped in a dirty blanket.

He paid the price of five empty aluminum cans in exchange for some information.

"This is Gray Head Gang territory."

A flicker of fear flashed in the old homeless man's cloudy eyes.

"I heard that their boss was arrested for contempt of court a while ago, and now they don't even have a fixed hideout. They're a bunch of good-for-nothing thugs who can only squat in this dilapidated house. Their graffiti logo is TG and gray."

"Tsk, there used to be two white guys, but they ran away after being 'bullied' by their own people at night, and they completely turned into a black gang."

"The Gray Head Gang?" Li Ping's eyes narrowed.

Isn't this the gang of those two black guys who tried to steal their sleeping bags yesterday but ended up stealing them instead?

It's really a narrow road.

A gang whose leader has been arrested, is now confined to an abandoned building, and whose main income comes from scavenging.

Undoubtedly a noob.

But this actually made Li Ping's mind start to wander – perhaps, there really was a chance to get his hands on that wallet?

The opponents aren't strong, but they are still gang members armed with clubs and knives, and some might even be skilled in American Iaijutsu, so danger still exists.

He silently memorized the characteristics of TG and the gray cloth headscarf, then left Fifth Street with Li Fan.

Instead of immediately picking up the cans, they took a detour to a convenience store.

Li Ping used his precious cash to buy two cans of gray spray paint and a gray headscarf.

"Brother, why are you buying all this?" Li Fan asked, puzzled.

"Make a mark." A slight smile appeared on Li Ping's lips.

The two then pushed the cart away from the Fifth Street area and began their can-collecting adventure.

Whenever he passed by a secluded corner, alleyway wall, or abandoned utility pole, as long as he was sure no one was around, Li Ping would quickly take out spray paint and spray on crooked TG logos and scribbled gray graffiti.

The movements were quick, and the marks were fresh.

After wandering around for a while, they arrived deep in the eighth block, in front of a wall painted with a shield and crossed daggers.

This is the symbol of the Holy Shield.

Li Ping squinted and looked around. He told his younger brother to go outside and keep watch. After confirming it was safe, he picked up the spray paint can.

laugh--

The gray paint was applied, first with a large "X" covering the shield logo, and then the more eye-catching "TG" was sprayed on the side.

Finally, he didn't forget to draw a vulgar middle finger design.

"I heard the Shield and the Greyheads don't get along very well."

Li Ping put away the spray paint and looked at his masterpiece with satisfaction.

Li Fan looked at the provocative graffiti on the wall and then glanced thoughtfully at his brother.

For the rest of the afternoon, the two brothers dutifully searched through trash cans and roadside corners in the surrounding area of ​​the poor street, becoming two diligent can hunters.

From 1 p.m. under the blazing sun to 5 p.m., when it was getting cooler, four hours of bending over, searching, and collecting resulted in two and a half bags of bottles and jars.

Pushing the cart back to the rusty recycling station, I weighed it and calculated the cost.

"Aluminum cans, $1.73 per pound, plastic bottles, $1.38... Total, $23.50."

The shopkeeper, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, counted out a few crumpled banknotes and coins, tossed them onto the greasy table, his tone utterly indifferent.

It takes four hours, so the average hourly wage is only six dollars.

This was the result of the two people working together, plus Li Ping's sharp eyes finding a one-dollar coin by the drainage ditch.

"You can't get rich by picking up this stuff."

Li Ping held the thin wad of money, and he and Li Fan looked at each other, both seeing helplessness in each other's eyes.

Yesterday's windfall was just pure luck; the main thing was that the copper was valuable.

Old Tom's main source of income is repairing electronic products that are considered junk; collecting cans is just a side job for pocket money.

For the vast majority of homeless people, there are no unexpected surprises; they can earn a maximum of twenty dollars a day by doing this.

I still need to find some illegal work.

However, Li Ping did not come away empty-handed.

An afternoon of intense work as a homeless person seemed to make their special skills as a "homeless person" function even more smoothly.

In the afternoon, he ate three cold hamburgers, a boxed lunch, a sandwich, two fried chicken legs, plus three laxatives to help with bowel movements.

The efficient conversion and storage of energy is not fat; he can clearly feel the power accumulating bit by bit in the muscle fibers.

The effect was remarkable; after selling the junk, he challenged Li Fan to an arm-wrestling match again.

This time, he held on for a full ten seconds before being overpowered.

"Brother, your rate of progress... is terrifying!"

Li Fan withdrew his hand, his face full of disbelief. "You're almost on par with most of the students at our sports school. You didn't eat some kind of specially prepared relief meal, did you?"

He recalled the bizarre rumors he had heard before that the relief meals in the poor streets contained drugs added by pharmaceutical companies.

"What are you thinking about!"

Li Ping was both amused and exasperated. He patted his younger brother's muscular arm and then gestured to his own still rather thin but already taking shape physique.

"In a place like this, we need to build up our strength—no, I mean our energy—to build up our fighting power. You need to eat a lot too!"

Looking at his brother's imposing manner, as if he could devour a whole cow, and then at the cold dog in his hand that he had only taken two bites of and was finding it hard to swallow, Li Fan felt deeply anxious.

He tried to force in a few more bites, but eventually gave up.

Perhaps I should go back to camp and ask that taciturn old man, Blackwin, for advice?

That guy built a makeshift street workout corner under the bridge using old tires and steel pipes; it looked incredibly professional.

"Let's go, there's a food truck in Sixth Street giving out fresh hot dogs. Let's grab a few for dinner and bring some back to the camp."

Li Ping swiped his phone screen, which displayed a message shared in a group chat.

He quickly scanned several Facebook groups and Instagram pages he followed, but unfortunately there was no new information about large-scale gang clashes.

He secretly pursed his lips, realizing that his little trick of sowing discord at noon had no effect.

However, before returning to camp for the 8 o'clock welcome party, he decided to make one last detour to 86 Fifth Street.

What if there are fewer people at night?

That's over a thousand US dollars, which is equivalent to what the two brothers could earn by collecting cans for a month!