America: Starting with Daily Intelligence-Chapter 282 - 172: Ranch Jewelry

People from the Silver Fox Team gave Black a good beating and looked everywhere, but they couldn’t find that Maserati, which only added to their irritation. They interrogated the two Blacks, "Where’s the car? Where’s my car?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about." Black, with a bruised and swollen face, hugged his head and lay on the ground.

"I’m talking about the Maserati Quattroporte!!" The gang leader exploded with rage.

Soon an engineer from the team spotted something amiss and found a tracker on the roadside, and in a panic exclaimed, "Damn, boss, we’ve been played, this tracker was deliberately thrown here by someone."

"What? Damn it, who the hell did this?" The team leader also realized the severity of the situation and had a foreboding feeling, but since they had already beaten the Blacks, the anger had been vented for the most part.

The two Blacks took a big loss and quickly sounded the alarm, calling people over, as a group of black people had already heard the shouting, running over from Poverty Street Community with handguns, baseball bats, and fruit knives.

Seeing that the other side had come out for revenge, the team leader also turned to mount his motorcycle and left without looking back with his crew. Black cursed and gave chase, throwing his weapons at the motorcycle.

"Hey! If you’ve got guts, don’t leave!"

"Motherfucker, got the nerve to do it but not to own up! I know who you are! You’re dead for sure!"

"They’re the Silver Fox Team from the garage area."

Some Blacks recognized them and couldn’t help but curse loudly: "Damn, they came here to beat up my people, it’s definitely because of that car, someone must’ve tipped them off."

"Chase them, we can’t let them get away! Otherwise, people will think we’re easy to bully!" The black gang leader, wearing a thick gold chain, fumed with anger and pulled out a Truth from his pocket, calling over an old Honda Civic, jumping in and hitting the gas to give chase.

Allen Zhang and his group only heard gunshots from two streets away, where a firefight broke out. The Blacks from the warehouse district all chased after them, realizing this was a good opportunity! They immediately started up the Jeep, arrived at the warehouse door, got out and took out burglary tools.

After fiddling with the warehouse door, there was a click and the lock opened. They walked in and saw a Chevrolet Bumblebee parked inside; the car keys were still in the office, which saved them from having to hack and unlock the car.

Bailey drove the car, following the Jeep, while Sieg took out a spray can and started spraying random graffiti on the walls, leaving marks of other street gangs, jumped in the car, and sped away with a hit on the gas pedal.

A few minutes later, the main force of Blacks who had chased out returned, and seeing the scene in front of them, they were on the verge of a mental breakdown.

"WTF!! Who the hell did this good deed!? Who! Who the hell is it?" A short, stocky Black with a buzz cut clutched his big gold necklace around his neck, veins popping from fury.

He yanked so hard he actually broke the jewelry and threw it on the ground, stomping on it twice, red marks appearing on his neck.

"Hey, boss, come take a look, there’s graffiti from other gangs left here, Fxxk! It’s definitely a deliberate provocation against us!" A Black noticed the graffiti on the wall and immediately reported it.

"They can’t be that idiotic, stealing under the guise and still leaving behind the tools and clues," said the black leader, displeased.

"Those Whites must have been played too, heard they pulled off a big job recently but got targeted, falling for someone else’s scheme," said a younger Black: "But since we’ve already started fighting! We gotta go all out!"

Black, cursing and swearing, felt extremely down on his luck. "Shit! My cousin will curse me a pig’s head if he finds out I went solo and screwed up the business! It’s the intel he gave me, I promised him a cut, but now there’s not a cent!"

"Boss, I think we need to keep an eye on the recent black market car lots, see if the same model’s for sale!" said a Black beside him.

"There are at least a dozen of similar models traded every day in the market now, and many are from other teams’ doings, we can’t possibly check every single car, right? We can’t afford to offend so many people! If they choose to hoard them for half a month before selling, or smuggle them to other states, or even simply dismantle them to sell as parts, how do we find them?" argued another Black.

"What use are you! Black Devil! Is your mouth only good for licking those women? Can you use your brain and think of a solution!" Black was livid, spouting vulgarities.

The Black in charge of the pursuit also returned, driving a Ford with a broken motorcycle in tow, along with a battered white man. Apparently, an engineer from the Silver Fox Team.

Black couldn’t help but laugh with anger, "Fxxk you! Tell me, why did you mess with us? If your answer satisfies me, I might not blow up your back door!"

"I’ll say, I’ll say it, please don’t lay a hand on me," the engineer immediately cowered.

Allen Zhang, completely unaware and uninterested in the conflict between Black and White, silently drove the car away, taking detours through the city with the Chevrolet Bumblebee, returning to Old Pick’s auto repair shop to deliver the vehicle.

Walking in, they saw the Maserati lifted with tires and fenders removed, ready to be painted.

Allen Zhang was very satisfied with their progress and complimented them. He then asked Bailey to park the car in the waiting area, lining up for modifications.