pjbooks Chapter 118 focuses on expulsion, not massacre.
Chapter 118 focuses on expulsion, not massacre.
Chapter 118 focuses on expulsion, not massacre.
Adverse misappropriation sounds like a very professional legal term.
The original intention of this system was to encourage the effective use of land and avoid the waste of resources caused by the original owners neglecting to manage it for a long time.
What does that mean? You bought a house, but you didn't live in it. There are many reasons why you didn't live in it, such as immigrating, going to jail, or simply not wanting to live there.
Then, while you're away from home, several strangers break into your private property and live there permanently.
Once someone has lived in the house for a certain number of years and paid the property tax and management fees on time, the house will no longer belong to them.
Whether you buy it for 30 or 100 million, as long as you don't live in it, it belongs to someone else and can be classified as an infringement of rights.
Blind student, have you noticed the key point?
The point isn't the house, but whether you've been paying your protection money... oh no, property tax to the government on time.
If you don't pay, someone else will pay for you. Why should I side with you if you don't generate any surplus value?
In short, if you pay, you're the boss; if you don't, go away. America doesn't support idlers.
In cases like Bubu's, it's clear that a loophole was exploited.
He was locked up in prison, how could he possibly know what was going on outside? In the end, after finally getting out of prison, his house was stolen.
Don't even think about forcibly changing the locks or moving your belongings, because if you do, the other party can sue you for trespassing and theft.
After thinking about it, I realized that I was still on parole, and getting into a conflict with those homeless people would obviously not be a wise move. If my parole were revoked, it would be a huge loss.
"Alright, bro, I understand your situation." Having grasped the specifics, Ma Jie didn't mince words and extended an olive branch directly: "If you've been staying in the slums these past few days, you should have heard of the Blue Hair Squad, right?"
"I've heard of it." Bubu nodded. "When I was receiving welfare meals, people kept talking about it, and some even mentioned your name. 'Would you like to join my team?' Ma Jieke raised the corners of his mouth. 'I'm currently recruiting, veterans are given priority.'"
Bubu hesitated for a moment, then murmured, "But what can I do? I don't know anything except military skills."
"There are so many things you can do. Can you do security patrols? Can you fight crime? Can you protect the vulnerable?"
Ma Jieke fired off a series of probing questions, then said, "To put it more bluntly, I want you to ride a motorcycle and serve as a sheriff in the slums. If you see someone fighting, you have to stop them; if you see someone stealing, you have to recover the stolen goods; if you see someone defecating in the street, you have to go up and slap them to teach them what understanding and respect are. Is my description detailed enough?"
"Don't hesitate, soldier, just tell me directly, do you accept this job or not?"
"I accept!" Upon learning the specific job details, Bubu couldn't hide the smile on his face: "Oh my god, bro, this job is practically tailor-made for me. I feel like I'm dreaming."
"OK, welcome to the Blue Hair Squad." Ma Jie extended his fist and bumped it with his: "As for salary, I may not be able to offer you too much, let's start at 2000 a month, but for every crime you stop, I will add another 500 to that."
Huh? Hearing this treatment, Bubu was stunned. He originally thought that a team made up of homeless people would be lucky to get a few hundred US dollars, but they asked for two thousand dollars, and it was a base salary with no responsibility.
In fact, $2000 was not much to Ma Jie, since with his professional background, if he applied for a job at a security company, he would definitely earn no less than $5,000 a month.
However, given the current poor job market and his status as a Black man with a criminal record, the probability of him finding legal and legitimate employment is virtually zero.
He's a retired Marine, and he's quite stubborn. If you treat him well, he might actually be willing to take a bullet for you in a critical moment.
After the salary was agreed upon, Bubu asked somewhat hesitantly, "Boss, I... can I make one more small request?"
But before he could finish speaking, Ma Jie pulled out his wallet, took out $500, and slammed it on the table: "I know you're penniless right now, consider this a loan, and I'll deduct it from your salary next month."
"Thank you, thank you so much." He excitedly put the money away, then his nose suddenly stung with tears. "Sir, I don't know how to express my feelings right now, but I feel like you were sent by God..."
"Okay, okay, God doesn't have that much free time."
Ma Jie interrupted his subsequent flattery, put his hand on his shoulder, and said with a strong smell of alcohol, "Listen up, buddy, you're mine now. You call me BOSS, and I'm going to get justice for you. Go find those sons of bitches now, and I'll make them spit out what they swallowed."
After settling the bill, the two people and the dog got up and walked out. About ten minutes later, they walked through several dilapidated blocks and arrived at 7611 Goma Street.
This place is not far from the poor street, and it consists entirely of two-story buildings, with shops on the ground floor and apartments on the upper floor, and the middle of the buildings is used as a parking lot.
After the motorcycle came to a stop, Ma Jie walked up the iron stairs with a glare and knocked on one of the doors.
The mottled wooden door had been riddled with bullet holes, leaving a row of clearly visible bullet holes, rendering it completely ineffective at soundproofing.
Standing outside the door, you can hear very unhealthy shouting coming from the living room; it sounds like vocabulary practice.
"OH! daddy! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!"
""OMG! YES! YES! YES! "
"Boss, are you sure the friend you're looking for lives here?" Bubu asked awkwardly.
Ma Jieke ignored him and pounded on the door.
Perhaps because she heard the knocking, the woman began reciting words at an increasingly faster pace.
About a minute later, the door was roughly pulled open, and the first thing that came into view was a shotgun barrel.
"Fuck you! I'm going to kill you! Didn't you hear me busy in there?!"
A high-decibel roar entered my ears, sounding incredibly angry.
"Hey, don't be impulsive, buddy, it's me."
MaJack instinctively dodged, staring at him with trepidation. It was Trevor, whom he had met once before. Upon recognizing the visitor, Trevor's gloomy face immediately brightened, and he excitedly hugged him, saying, "Hahaha, it's you, little brother! I almost blew your head off just now."
Ma Jieke dodged away speechlessly, giving him a wary look at his lower body: "Could you put your pants on first? If I were your neighbor, I would have chopped you into mincemeat and stuffed you into the oven by now."
"Haha, come in, bro." Trevor beckoned and returned to the living room, his bare bottom exposed.
A busty woman, clad in high-tech attire, had just fastened her bra, hastily draped a coat over her shoulders, and walked out in strappy high heels.
As she passed by Ma Jieke, she gave him a flirtatious wink. He turned slightly to the side, holding his breath to avoid the smell of her cheap perfume.
"Sit down, guys! What are you all standing there for?"
"Oh, if you're interested, I can call Goldie back now to work overtime, but it will cost extra for one-on-two."
Trevor put on his underwear, took two bottles of beer from the refrigerator, and handed them to MaJack and Bubu respectively, with a lewd grin on his face.
"Come on, Trevor." Glancing at the messy sofa still stained with some unknown liquid, MaJack decided it was better to stand. "I'm not as brave as you, letting just anyone in there. I heard that when you lived in the Senora Desert, you rode your neighbor's miniature pony. Is that true?"
"Well, I can't quite remember." Trevor took a sip of beer. "But the last time, I secretly got my hands on a Boer goat with a really big butt. I wonder if she'll give birth to a little Trevor."
"Oh shit, let's not talk about this anymore, it makes me feel nauseous."
Ma Jie felt a churning in his stomach and quickly changed the subject: "Well, buddy, I came here today to ask you for a favor."
"To be precise, it's about helping this black brother." He pointed to Bubu, who looked helpless beside him. "The situation is simple: a group of homeless people forcibly occupied his house, and I hope someone can stand up and seek justice for him."
"OK, I've got this covered, bro." Trevor didn't even hesitate, turned around and went back into the bedroom, pulling a heavy military weapons case out from under the bed.
The box was opened, and inside lay a brand-new RPG rocket-propelled grenade launcher.
"NO NO NO, that's not what I meant." Ma Jie was dumbfounded and hurriedly explained, "I wanted you to help drive these bastards out, not blow them up along with their houses, understand, buddy? The point is to drive them out, not massacre them. This is Los Angeles, not the Russia-Ukraine battlefield."
Good heavens, I'm sweating bullets. They're just a few homeless people, is it worth firing a shot at them?
After understanding Majad's demands, Trevor dragged the RPG back, and casually pulled out an MP5 submachine gun, plus a fire axe.
Okay, let's leave it at that. Free America, gunfights every day.
A red pickup truck sped out of the parking space, startling a passing driver.
The car, carrying three men and a dog, headed south of the city.
According to Bubu's clue, his home is in North Yankton, which, despite its name, is located in the southeast corner of the map.
That was the lowest level of slum, inhabited entirely by Black people. It was completely outclassed by Poor Street in terms of its ecological niche. Even the industrial area where Little Rich lived was a better place to live.
After a long journey, they finally stopped in front of a wooden house with a fence.
This is also what makes Los Angeles so unique. Apart from a few skyscrapers standing in the city center, the rest of the city is filled with single-story houses with their own courtyards.
You can imagine how spectacular it would be if millions of people lived in these houses, viewed from the air.
According to incomplete statistics, Los Angeles has a network of 50,000 streets, which is more than the total number of streets in many small countries.
There are very few such mega-metropolitan areas on the entire globe.