America: Starting with Daily Intelligence-Chapter 40 Business Secrets

Allen Zhang idled around, then approached the strength test machine again to understand the rules. He found out it was a professional device; each participation cost 10 US Dollars, and scoring 500, 600, 700, 800, 900 points would earn different rewards. Scoring 999 would hit the jackpot, multiplying the prize by 100 times.

This is great!!

Allen Zhang loosened up his fists and put in 10 US Dollars. He assumed a punching stance and struck the punching bag hard with a loud bang, watching the display numbers soar, showing 499 points.

Damn! What a rip-off!!

Are you rigging this thing too?

Allen Zhang was taken aback.

So was Black standing nearby.

In disbelief at the numbers displayed, how could someone punch 499 points in one go? The machine’s max is only 499 points.

If this was a normal professional measurement unit, this thing would round off to nearly 800 pounds!!

Who is this freak?

Hopefully, they’re not here to cause trouble.

The attendant Black came over, looked at Allen Zhang who was doubting his life, fiddled with the machine for a bit, and spat out the 10 US Dollars from the coin slot back to him.

He politely said, "Sir, I apologize, but the machine is broken and isn’t fixed yet. Please enjoy the other facilities."

"Ok." Allen Zhang didn’t change his expression, and since he got the refund, he decided to act as if he saw nothing.

Not long after leaving, Allen Zhang saw a group of youngsters arriving, trying their hands at the punching game; one tall, muscular Caucasian laughed carelessly.

He posed in an amateur boxing guard and punched, thumping loudly. The numbers halted at 196, and his face instantly changed.

"Rigged! It’s rigged!!"

The tall Caucasian shouted discontentedly, "I could easily score 800 points at the gym! How come it only shows 196 on this machine? What kind of measurement unit is this?"

Black immediately approached, speaking sternly, "Sir! Please stop yelling here! If not, please leave immediately!!"

Despite their dissatisfaction, the group was intimidated by Black’s glaring eyes, flared nostrils, and bulging muscles, giving off a vibe of dragging anyone into a back room for a lesson if they didn’t behave.

The group swallowed their pride muttering to themselves. Though resentful, they accepted their fate on this occasion.

This Black really knows how to switch faces.

He’s the type to bully the coward and fear the brave.

Allen Zhang walked around the place again, noting that aside from legitimate paid attractions there wasn’t much of interest, nor was he craving a cigarette.

He also kept his mission in mind.

After downing a Red Bull, he found the same Black to ask where the trash was disposed of.

Knowing Allen Zhang was no easy target, Black treated him with great respect and showed him the way.

Allen Zhang smoothly made his way down the corridor, pushed open the door and found himself outside, under a blue sky dotted with white clouds, in the back yard of the bar.

Outside the yard was a main road with hardly any traffic, surrounded by iron fences and a locked large iron gate, with a garbage truck parked at the entrance, making it look like a fortified military zone.

The white-bearded old man sorting cans and junk in the yard also glanced at him in surprise, "Sir, outsiders are not allowed in here."

"I just wanted to come here for some fresh air and to throw away some trash." Allen Zhang waved the empty Red Bull can in his hand, flattened it, and tossed it to him.

"What’s your name? Are you the janitor specifically responsible for cleaning up the trash here? Did the bar hire you?"

"You can call me Mike." The old man, wearing blue overalls, yellow rubber shoes, and rubber gloves, took the can and casually stuffed it into a bag.

He answered, "I’ve been working here for several years. I used to pick up trash on the streets, but after this bar opened, I started collecting trash here frequently. The courtyard was funded and expanded by the bar’s owner to prevent people from sneaking in through the back door or running off without paying, avoiding seeing what they shouldn’t see."

Allen Zhang also learned from him that this bar was a joint venture; the front half was a regular bar, and the back half was a project operated in collaboration with a small gang on the street. This was pretty normal for the streets.

After all, just selling borderline legal alcohol won’t earn much money. In this location, you might not even be able to pay the rent; you had to put on something that could attract attention and gather crowds.

"But relying on these cans alone won’t make much money, I have other lucrative projects on the side." Old Mike chuckled.

"What kind of lucrative projects?" Allen Zhang asked curiously.

Old Mike mysteriously smiled but did not divulge more, instead focusing on sorting the cans.

Allen Zhang immediately caught on and said, "Don’t be like that, Mike, I’m just curious and want to know more about your line of work. How about this, let’s make a deal; I’ll buy you a drink, and you tell me some industry secrets. You can go inside now and order some drinks or whatever, I’ll pay, everything’s on me!"

"Are you sure?" Old Mike was somewhat surprised, "Are all Asians this generous? Where are you from?"

"I come from Japan!!" freeωebnovēl.c૦m

Allen Zhang smiled as he pulled out a stack of thick paper currency, slapped it into his palm, immediately catching Old Mike’s attention.

"Buddy, I’m not trying to deceive you, you can go in now and relax, and it’s okay to tell me afterwards, I can wait."

"You said it!"

Old Mike didn’t stand on ceremony with Allen Zhang and promptly took off his yellow rubber shoes and gloves, changed into clean clothes and chuckled, "Actually, it’s no secret, often patrons here get drunk and leave things behind, like rings, jewelry, coco, commemorative coins, paper currency and such. None of them are worth much, but just one find can definitely make a fortune!"

"So you were just looking for rings? Necklaces?" Allen Zhang asked, surprised.

Old Mike shrugged, "Just trying my luck! You know, it’s dark inside and the lighting is very poor, it’s possible something gets left behind and ends up in the trash bin. If I find something good, I still have to share a cut with the boss, I can’t keep it all to myself, otherwise, it would be troublesome if a patron comes back looking for their belongings."

"Alright, buddy, I got it, you can go in and relax now, I’ll settle the bill before you leave, but don’t take too much advantage of me!" Allen Zhang warned jokingly.

"I get it! Don’t worry, I know the ropes, my reputation has always been good." Old Mike reassured, and quickly went inside.

Once inside the bar, under Black’s surprised gaze, he headed straight for the Bunny Girl in the rest area.

"Hey! What are you doing, Mike?" Mary was surprised, "This place doesn’t need cleaning."

"Somebody’s treating me to use up some service! Baby, want to join me in the private room?" Old Mike was triumphant.

Mary said speechlessly, "No! I don’t want to."

"Okay... Guise, give me a whiskey with ice! I’ll be waiting for you in the private room." Old Mike was a bit disappointed but then shifted his focus to another person, winking as he made the invitation.

"Fxxk you! Who the hell thought it was a good idea to invite you? You better wash your brother clean!!"

The Bunny Girl painting her nails rolled her eyes disdainfully and flipped him off. Reluctantly, she got up to serve the old man, swayed by the mention of money.

In the backyard, Allen Zhang sent away Old Mike, who was hindering his work, equipped with the latter’s exclusive field weapon, fully upgraded rubber gloves.

He headed straight for the green treasure chest to search for the Vantini gold necklace weighing 15.6 grams.