I am a Big Player
Chapter 648 - 639, Business_1

Chapter 648: 639, Business_1

Northeast of Karamay City, following National Highway 217 northward for 170 kilometers, there are no officially recognized villages or towns marked on the map in this area—just a small market that some people have put together, barely even the size of the average vegetable market back in the heartland.

The market is enclosed with wooden fencing, and at its entrance, there’s a sign that almost seems weathered away: City that Never Sleeps.

Ren He pulled over his SUV at the entrance and just standing there for less than a minute, he already felt the sand creeping into his hair. He removed his transparent wind goggles, looked at the words "City that Never Sleeps," and then glanced at the six or seven earthen houses that you could see from end to end with a sudden pang of... annoyance.

Just at the entrance, he could see a sign hanging at the door of one of the adobe houses within the fence: Massage.

And sitting at the door of the house were two older women with unkempt hair—Ren He even wondered whether they might have lice...

National Highway 217 serves as a transport route, but in this sparsely populated area, you might not see another vehicle pass by for two or three hours.

The scene in front of him reminded Ren He of four words: Dragon Gate Inn.

"Handsome, looking for a place to rest?" The older woman grinned, revealing her yellow-stained teeth and smiled at Ren He.

Ren He laughed inwardly, thinking he was perhaps getting a bit carried away with his imagination—this wasn’t really the picaresque world of legend. The fabled jianghu was full of sword-wielding brutes, and even the ladies of the pleasure quarters were exquisitely charming. This woman bore no resemblance to "exquisite charm." He cheerfully replied, "No, thanks, ma’am."

Upon hearing Ren He’s words, the older woman turned her head back to continue basking in the sun, seemingly unbothered by the risk of sand clogging her nostrils.

Ren He turned and fetched a bottle of mineral water from his vehicle. On this journey, he was in the habit of stocking up on bottled water whenever he found a place to buy it, fearful of falling ill from the unfamiliar conditions.

"Anybody there?" Ren He yelled out.

Out of one of the earthen houses emerged a gaunt man looking rather sleazy: "What do you need, little brother?"

"Fill it up with gas," Ren He pointed towards his SUV, intending to venture alone into the Desert, the market serving as the last stop before entering the true No Man’s Land. If he didn’t fill up here, it would be difficult to find another chance within the next 500 kilometers.

This route wasn’t the same as the road featured in the film No Man’s Land; the real No Man’s Land wasn’t just one single road but a vast area.

Ren He had spent several thousands of US Dollars over the past few days to understand that poaching gangs usually didn’t operate near the roads, as portrayed in the movies. Their main hunting grounds were within this vast desert.

He had not come here without purpose. The existence of such a small market in this place seemed to cater to the passing transport trucks, but it surely wasn’t that simple. A mere 300 kilometers separated both ends of the highway, a distance that truck drivers could cover in just a few hours.

Yet what was this place really? It was evident that some expected to stay overnight—there was even a massage parlor...

This was one piece of intel Ren He had paid for: the poaching gangs often ventured into the desert from here, and after toiling in the desert sands for a dozen days, they looked forward to returning to some drink and hot food.

Ren He felt one shouldn’t trust such information too readily. After all, if a petty innkeeper knew about it, wouldn’t the police be aware as well? Why wouldn’t they simply stake out the place? The domestic police weren’t fools.

In this, Ren He had somewhat misjudged the innkeeper. The poaching had long since developed into an industry, and the innkeeper knew some inside stories because of his complex ties with this shadowy world. Besides, the poachers didn’t always pass through here. Although armed and dangerous, they all knew this was the nation’s land. How many of those arrogant thugs had met a good end? It seemed none had.

Although they were breaking the law, they weren’t fools.

Ren He pondered at the entrance of the black store, and even though he harbored doubts about the storeowner, there was the possibility that if the latter was an informant, the poaching gang might already know that a young man was looking for them.

That was quite possible, so Ren He made more preparations, and on his way back to Karamay, he heard a piece of news that really frustrated him...

When he heard the news, Ren He felt his balls could almost shatter. The news, sold to him by another black store owner for 100 yuan, was that the poaching gangs were no longer stealing yaks but were now capturing falcons and antelopes!

Why? Because the wild yaks above Karamay were now so scarce that even poachers couldn’t find them, while comparatively, falcons were easier to catch and a bit more valuable.

Starting a long time ago, in certain Middle Eastern countries, wealthy people once saw the number and level of falcons they possessed as a unique symbol of their power and wealth. Owning an impressive falcon usually indicated that one had just entered the millionaire’s circle. That is to say, once a person acquired significant riches, the first thing to do was to buy a falcon to prove and show off their entry into the ranks of the wealthy.

In oil-rich Middle Eastern countries like Saudi Arabia, falcons were considered treasures. The price of the best TS-type falcon could sell for up to 1 million—in US dollars!

This was the root cause of domestic poaching.

The man who walked out of the clay house glanced at Ren He, "A tank of oil, 1000 yuan."

Ren He smiled, "My tank is modified; it’s twice the size of a regular off-road vehicle’s tank—more than that actually. Why don’t you fill it up first, then it won’t be too late to come to me for payment?"

His tank was custom-made for trips to No Man’s Land, and while the shop normally charged 1000 yuan for a tank of gas, the man would feel like he had made a loss once he finished filling it up.

Ren He was here on business, not to take advantage of others...

After hearing Ren He’s words, the man hesitated, then called over a worker to start filling up Ren He’s tank. Once done, he gritted his teeth in frustration, "2500!"

Ren He counted out 2500 in cash for him, "Got anything to eat?"

"Yes!" The man, seeing Ren He’s generous demeanor, not even haggling, immediately felt he had a big spender on his hands and quickly ushered Ren He inside, "Don’t mind the shabbiness here, but our master chef’s skills are unparalleled. I’ll grill a lamb leg for you, you won’t forget the taste! And our dishes are all fairly priced, not more expensive than other places!"

At these words, Ren He chuckled. Damn it, their so-called fairly priced dishes were the same price across all the black stores—no one was any cheaper than the others, even the shredded pork with garlic sauce was 98!

Some people always imagined poachers as looking as if they’d just come back from plowing the fields, but the fact was these people carried cash in bags. Securing money too easily resulted in little appreciation for it, and it was all spent on food and women.

Otherwise, why would these black stores be specifically located in such remote places just for them?

While Ren He was sitting inside the store enjoying his grilled lamb leg, the sound of many vehicles roaring in the distance suddenly reached his ears. Ren He looked up and saw a group of men alighting from their vehicles. For some reason, Ren He felt that they must know he was looking for the poaching gangs.

Perfect, Ren He was there to negotiate a deal with them.