My American magical life
Chapter 513 - 513 83 Cannibalistic Wolves Waters of the Age The Hunt Please support with your daily votes!_4

513: Chapter 83 Cannibalistic Wolves, Waters of the Age, The Hunt (Please support with your daily votes!)_4 513: Chapter 83 Cannibalistic Wolves, Waters of the Age, The Hunt (Please support with your daily votes!)_4 Suddenly, a Mexican wearing a hoodie got into Boss Jia’s Lincoln.

“Drive, go straight ahead!”

The cold muzzle of the gun pointed at the driver’s crotch was a sawed-off shotgun, its barrel as thick as an egg and decidedly intimidating, particularly considering where it was aimed.

Not daring to delay even for a second, Accountant Jia’s driver completely forgot about his own boss and immediately started the car, not even noticing when his cigarette fell and burned his trousers.

“Brother, I have money, in the storage compartment in front of the car, open it, there’s money inside, just keep your hand steady, brother.”

The Mexican gunman opened the glove compartment, and inside there was a pile of US dollars which he stuffed into his pants without bothering to count exactly how much.

Seeing the person beside him take the money, the driver forced a smile and said.

“Brother, that must be a couple of hundred dollars, you take it and spend it, just don’t point the gun at me, it’s really not worth it, I’m just an ordinary driver, the car isn’t mine.”

“Turn left!”

The gunman didn’t answer, nor did he explain.

He had received a fifty-thousand-dollar deposit from Eris, with two hundred thousand dollars on completion, and he had to do the job well.

“Brother, where do you want me to go, can you tell me?”

“Someone wants to see you, you’ll know when you get there.”

Eventually, the black Lincoln stopped on a desolate road.

The red bricks by the roadside, weathered by time, were overgrown with wild grass, with scattered abandoned cars lightly dotting both sides of the road.

The driver trembled all over, sweating profusely, wanting to say something, yet, although his throat wasn’t clutched, he couldn’t utter a single word.

“Hey, just wait here, don’t move, I’m watching you from outside.”

The Mexican gunman with the hoodie said this and then got out of the car.

Humming a tune, he prepared to find a spot to start tailing someone.

He was humming because he was in a good mood; his job was almost done.

This three hundred thousand was too easy, rarely was a job this good.

Indeed, it had to be the big bosses, only someone like Eris would pay such a high price.

“Pfft!”

A bullet pierced his forehead, and the Mexican gunman collapsed to the ground instantly.

Danze and his men emerged from both sides of the road; there were four of them, cutting off any escape route for the Lincoln.

The driver started the engine, but in an instant, his front tire was shot out.

“Get out of the car!”

Daniel Washington didn’t disappoint CEO Cheng, he had arranged for only the best from Little Black’s gang to handle the task, and they quickly took control of the situation, taking Accountant Jia’s driver and the black Lincoln and stuffing them into the back of a big truck.

It was a truck with the Coast Guard’s emblem, which had no obstructions in America.

“Danze, this new boss of yours is quite interesting, what does he do?”

A buddy nudged his old friend with his shoulder and asked.

Danze shook his head, laughing bitterly as he replied.

“I don’t know, man, sorry.”

“Come on, you don’t trust us now?”

What could Danze say?

Of course, he trusted his buddies; after all, they were the last batch of warriors, pure and brave.

But CEO Cheng’s business was too chaotic, so much so that Danze, his personal bodyguard, couldn’t understand it.

“Missouri is far, stay alert, you can get rid of the guy if necessary, but don’t expose yourselves.”

With that warning, Danze watched as his men departed.

Little Black didn’t know the full extent of CEO Cheng’s plans, but he guessed that whatever Cheng was planning, it was big.

—————–

“That Chan isn’t what you think, he’s not an entrepreneur, he’s a beast, Domo.”

Rick Crusoe sat in his high-backed chair, wielding a cigar commanding the room.

He was a real estate tycoon renowned across the West Coast, accustomed to giving orders.

Seeing that the chubby chef didn’t understand his point, Rick Crusoe became more explicit.

“Kid, there are many ways to categorize people and groups in the world.

They are divided by wealth into poor and rich, by ethnicity into Germanic and Irish, and even though we’re Italian, from the viewpoint of Latinx, we’re the same kind as the Spanish.

My campaign strategy starts with the Latinx community…

but I digress, back to the main point.”

Rick Crusoe flicked his cigar and continued.

“There are too many dimensions of classification in the world, but in my eyes, there are only two, wolves and sheep.

The mission of a wolf is to eat sheep, and the only purpose of foolish, docile, powerless sheep is to be eaten.

It takes enough sheep to feed those hungry wolves.

Sometimes too many want to be wolves, and there aren’t enough sheep, and that’s when the turmoil begins, and the wolves that aren’t strong enough get eliminated.

Then the cycle repeats.

I am a wolf, which is why I’ve succeeded, I have been more successful than my father.”

Domo, the only reason I invest in MAS is because I sense that Chan is one of the rare, cunning, and hungry wolves.”

Suddenly, Rick Crusoe rose from his chair, pulling Domo by the shoulders, staring into the eyes of his most beloved child, asking,

“Kid, do you realize you’ve caught his attention?”

Confronted with his father in such a state, Domo replied nervously.

“I didn’t know.”

Rick Crusoe burst into laughter.

“Ha, kid, that’s why I tell you, he’s the real wolf.

Those so-called star entrepreneurs, those so-called big shots, they wear their ambition on their faces, their heads emptier than the dogs we raise.

But Chan is different, he conceals himself too well, which is why I’m willing to give him a chance!”