Reborn in America: I Have an Equipment Slot

Upon hearing someone call his name, Irving immediately looked around.

He then noticed a patrol officer standing in front of him, looking at him with surprise.

Owen paused for a moment, looking at the other person's face. After thinking for a while, he remembered that the other person seemed to be the police officer who handled the pawnshop theft case.

"Officer Cooper? What are you doing here?" Seeing the other person greet him so warmly, Owen quickly went up and bumped fists with him.

Cooper shrugged, pointed to his partner who looked only seventeen or eighteen years old behind him, and complained helplessly, "Obviously, I've been assigned to patrol this block and mentor new recruits."

"Oh, to my shame, I thought some car thief had stolen a 1986 Winnie-Bag and brought it into my jurisdiction. I never expected it to be you..."

Upon hearing this, Irving immediately understood why Cooper could recognize him.

It turns out that Officer Cooper is also a motorhome enthusiast!

"You like RVs too? How about we go take a look?" Seeing Cooper's eyes light up as he stared intently at his RV, Owen promptly extended an invitation.

Cooper instinctively wanted to nod in agreement.

But the thought of being on patrol with a hothead in tow made me realize that I was still on patrol.

After hesitating for a moment, he shook his head.

"Forget it, buddy, let's do it another day."

Cooper pointed to the police car parked at the street corner, its red and blue lights flashing, and sighed helplessly. He explained, "We just received a report that two gangs in the neighborhood are planning a bloody fight here. We can't relax yet..."

Irving nodded in understanding.

Seeing this, he went to the stall and ordered two tacos and a ham sandwich from the owner.

No sooner had he finished speaking than a powerful engine roar suddenly came from the street corner in the distance.

The sudden commotion immediately attracted everyone's attention.

Irving looked up.

A red Ford pickup truck came from the intersection, followed closely by a black Toyota Highlander.

Before anyone could react, the left window of the black Toyota Highlander rolled down, revealing two dark gun barrels.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat!

As the trigger was pulled, the barrel instantly spewed out bursts of fire, and a series of bullets poured out towards the red Ford pickup truck, making a crackling sound.

"F**K!!"

Upon seeing this, Cooper immediately cursed, threw aside the half-eaten sandwich in his hand, and ran towards the police car while pressing the communicator hanging on his shoulder.

"Dispatch center! Dispatch center!! Gang shootout at the intersection of Third Avenue and 46th Street!!"

"Requesting backup! Requesting backup!!"

After getting into the car, Cooper immediately turned on the siren, turned the car around, and chased after the two vehicles engaged in fierce combat.

The sudden noise startled everyone on the roadside.

A group of people instinctively squatted down.

Several Black women who had just finished get off work screamed and ran away.

Irving was no exception; seeing this absurd scene that resembled a game, he quickly hid behind the stall.

Only after the two cars drove away and the sirens of the police cars gradually faded away did everyone breathe a sigh of relief.

"F**K!! These damn gangsters! Look what they've done to Miami!"

Seeing that the danger had passed, the Mexican stall owner, having regained his senses, realized that the meat patties he had just fried were burnt, and he angrily cursed.

"Calm down, Bro. Be careful. This is Hellfire territory. If they hear us, your business will be overturned..."

Upon hearing what the Mexican vendor said, a Black man standing nearby quickly chimed in.

To everyone's surprise, the Mexican stall owner didn't seem to care at all, looking quite annoyed. "So what if I heard it! It's not like I haven't seen gangsters before!"

"Back in my hometown, those gangs are more powerful than the national army. These Miami gangs are all just playing house. They have the guts to stand up to the American government! What kind of skill is it to bully ordinary citizens like us!"

Upon hearing the Mexican vendor's remarks, Irving couldn't help but give him a thumbs up.

To be honest, after learning about the situation over this period of time, he discovered that the gangs in Miami were indeed different from what he had imagined.

They call it a gang, but in reality they're just some street gangs.

Even if there are any conflicts, there are rarely gunfights like today.

Unlike the Mexican gangs, they don't even dare to confront the police directly, and they have a bunch of planes and tanks.

No wonder there's a term like "North American coward".

Irving slowly shook his head.

Just as Irving breathed a sigh of relief, thinking to himself that he would grab two tacos and a chicken wrap and leave,

A white Chevrolet slowly drove up.

Upon seeing the Chevrolet parked in front of the stall, the crowd, who had just experienced a gunfight, immediately felt their hearts leap into their throats.

Irving even instinctively put his hand on the phone hidden at his waist, looking wary.

But just then, the Chevrolet's window rolled down.

"Hey boss, six tacos and two ham sandwiches!" A burly black man pulled out two twenty-dollar bills and waved them out the car window.

Seeing this, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

But Irving was taken aback.

He discovered that the figure inside the car was none other than James, the fake document dealer.

"James?" Irving stepped forward, looking surprised.

Hearing someone call his name, James instinctively shrank his head.

But upon seeing Irving approaching, he breathed a sigh of relief, his expression exaggerated, "Shit! You scared me, buddy!"

"What are you doing here?" Owen asked, looking puzzled.

James opened the car door, bumped fists with Irving, and then explained, "I'm here because I have business to do."

Seeing that many people were looking at him, James coughed twice, then leaned close to Irving and whispered, "Dude, I got a big job—fake IDs for fifty people! Hahaha, delivery tonight. Once I get payment, I'll treat you to a strip club and order two dancers!"

Seeing James's smug look, Irving quietly gave him the middle finger.

Fifty sets of fake documents...that's a huge order for James.

However, for Irving right now, this amount of profit is less than what he could make from reselling an item.

"How much money did you make from fifty sets of fake documents?" Owen suddenly asked.

"$5384!" James thought Irving was jealous, so he grinned, showing his big white teeth and a smug smile.

Unexpectedly, after hearing him announce the profits, Irving burst out laughing.

"What's wrong, buddy?"

James looked puzzled. "Are you jealous of me? Is business at your pawnshop not doing well lately?"

Irving slowly pulled a thick wad of cash checks from his pocket, looking quite pleased with himself. "What a coincidence, I also landed a big order today, earning nearly $50,000."

James: "???"