pjbooks Chapter 186 Good evening, welcome to the 0 yuan purchase event
Chapter 186 Good evening, welcome to the 0 yuan purchase event
Chapter 186 Good evening, welcome to the zero-yuan purchase event
Old Gilbert was in a good mood today. He not only successfully recovered a sum of money for a project, but also scored twice at the Vanilla Unicorn Club, using his superb acting skills to extort money from an Asian guy.
Looking back now, that kid was a complete idiot and a victim of injustice. He had a great physique, but his brain was full of horse manure, and he had absolutely no ability to think critically.
He didn't even consider whether what I said could stand up to scrutiny before willingly paying the compensation, perhaps to show off in front of pretty girls.
That's possible. When I was a visiting professor at the University of Houston, what annoyed me the most were those Chinese students. They were clearly not very good-looking. Standing next to the quarterback of the school's football team, they looked no different from a hobbit. But they were rich. They lived in the most expensive single dorm rooms, drove Porsche sports cars worth 10 yuan, and there was never a shortage of sexy girls in the passenger seat.
In terms of niche, they've already left Black and Indian Americans far behind. The only ones who can rival them are those high-achieving athletes and band members.
In short, old Gilbert never looked down on this ethnic group. They would use their parents' money to come here to get a prestigious education, and then return to their home country to find a respectable job through family connections.
But who cares? An idiot is an idiot. He's a little idiot in school, and a big idiot in society.
After cursing in his mind, old Gilbert felt great. When he got out of the taxi, he casually gave the black driver a few extra dollars as a tip. After all, compared to the annoying Asians, even the black man looked good.
The latter was extremely grateful and personally got out of the car to open the door for him, while the latter hummed a little tune as he crossed the road and walked towards the upscale community on the other side.
I drank quite a bit of alcohol today, and I couldn't wait to get home. Standing outside the green belt, I started watering the flowers with a sprinkler.
About ten seconds later, a red Volkswagen Passenger Car passed by the taxi. Its license plate was covered with black paint beforehand. The car stopped directly behind him and used its headlights to expose his uncivilized behavior.
"Hey, are you out of your mind, buddy? You want me to smash your hood?"
As the saying goes, alcohol emboldens cowards, and he was quite arrogant, not caring how many people were in the car or what their skin color was, he dared to curse as soon as he opened his mouth.
The problem was that in his nervousness, he urinated directly on his shoes, which angered him so much that he fastened his belt and walked over, wanting to argue with the car owner.
Clang, clang, he pounded on the car window with the back of his hand, his mouth still sharp and unyielding: "Get out of the car, you bastard! I told you to get out and talk, are you deaf?"
The moment the car window was opened, old Gilbert instantly sobered up, finding a dark shotgun pointed right at his forehead.
The gun barrel was icy cold, which cooled his body as well, and his breathing became uncontrollably rapid.
But this old guy is really bold. He suddenly pushed the gun barrel with his hand and turned around to run away.
As soon as I turned around, I was almost scared to death. Sometime during the day, a tall and burly robber blocked my way.
The guy was wearing a black hood, the kind you often see in games, with only his eyes and mouth showing.
"Good evening, bro. Welcome to the free shopping event. Shall I explain the rules?"
The other person appeared very polite and deliberately imitated the voice acting of cartoon characters. If it weren't for the exaggeratedly designed pistol in his hand, one would really think he was hosting a variety show.
"No...no need." Old Gilbert was terrified and broke out in a cold sweat. As a citizen of free America, if he had never been a robber, hadn't he been robbed before?
"Very well, looks like you're a seasoned veteran." The robber, pistol in hand, shrugged with a smug grin. "So, I don't need to remind you what to do next, do I?"
Old Gilbert, being astute, took out his wallet from his pocket, neatly arranged all the loose change inside, and respectfully handed it to the robber: "Sir, this is all I have. I'm a poor man living in a slum. The reason I'm here is because I missed the last subway home, so I'm planning to walk back."
Look at that, he just spouts nonsense without any preamble.
Just when he thought his performance was flawless, the robber slapped some change across his face: "Poor guy? Are you going to say next that your four-figure suit was picked up from a clothing donation box, that your crocodile-skin shoes were found at a flea market, and that the green Submariner on your wrist was bought at a 90% discount from a secret shop in Quesanti?"
Answer me!
"look in my eyes! tell me!"
"Why? Baby, why?"
This sudden, loud, probing question left old Gilbert completely bewildered.
Has the zero-yuan shopping phenomenon reached such a competitive level that even robbers need to be familiar with various luxury brands?
Just as he was speechless, the thug who had been carrying the shotgun walked over and looked at his accomplice with disdain: "Kid, is this your first time doing this kind of job? Let me teach you the proper way to rob someone, I guarantee you'll learn it for the rest of your life."
Before he could finish speaking, the thug brandished his shotgun and smashed the butt of it into old Gilbert's eyebrow. Gilbert screamed and fell to the ground, blood streaming down his face.
But he didn't care about the guy's life or death at all, and began to rummage through the man's body to steal his valuables. He quickly found a roll of money tied with a rubber band in a hidden inner pocket. It looked like at least ten thousand US dollars and appeared to be some income. Then he took off the man's conspicuous green Submariner and kept it for himself.
The most ingenious part was that he even pulled off old Gilbert's belt, tied his hands behind his back, and quickly knotted them together, saying it would delay the time it took to call the police.
The whole process was quite quick, lasting at most 30 seconds. By the time the all-purpose walker disappeared at the end of the street corner, old Gilbert was still lying on the ground, yelling and trying to attract the attention of community security guards or passersby.
After confirming that no vehicles were following behind, the two thugs in the pickup truck finally removed their hoods.
"Phew..." Ma Jie exhaled a breath of stale air, sitting in the passenger seat in a daze. This was just too exciting.
"Haha, we're rich, kid." Old Cui's arrogant laughter rang in my ears as he tossed a thick wad of US dollars around his neck. "That idiot would never have dreamed that the money he just swindled from you would be returned with interest so quickly. Now the money is yours, and this watch is mine. No objections?"
Opinions? What opinions could I possibly have? Would I even dare to have any opinions?
In front of such a powerful figure, Ma Jie felt as pure as a white lotus flower. His original idea was to get the money back and then give the other party a good beating.
Now look what's happened! Trevor's meddling has turned it into a highway robbery. I should have known better than to ask him for help; he's just making things worse.
However, what's done is done, and there's no use thinking too much about it. You have to understand that this is Los Angeles, and similar entertainment activities happen dozens of times a day. The police are overwhelmed with calls. In addition, without a "Skynet system" like China's, criminals are even more emboldened.
Despite the chaos, guess what? Whenever a high-ranking official in police uniform appears in front of the media, the most frequently used phrase is always "the crime rate has decreased by X% year-on-year."
This brings us to the “unique statistical method” that is regarded as the gold standard by various industries in the United States.
First, non-violent treatment. What does this mean? It means that some cases that would normally be considered violent crimes are downgraded to "disturbing the peace" or "disorderly conduct," so they are not included in the violent crime rate.
Secondly, the strategy of not filing cases: In order to increase the crime-solving rate, the police will directly advise victims not to report the crime, especially "minor cases" such as theft and robbery. At least 40% of robbery cases are not even included in the statistical database.
Third, wordplay. New York City police have been exposed for deliberately understating crime statistics, recording rape as "harassment" and armed robbery as "ordinary theft."
Let's talk about crime-solving abilities. The "Donut Gods" basically all believe in the same logic: they're too lazy to deal with small cases, and they can't solve big cases.
Los Angeles has a murder clearance rate of about 60%, which sounds pretty good, right?
But the authorities won't tell the general public that more than half of these cases are family disputes and gang fights, making it easy to identify the perpetrators.
In real random murder cases, the clearance rate is only 25%, which means that out of four murderers, only one unlucky guy gets caught, while the other three get away scot-free.
Robbery cases account for less than 30%, and theft cases are even lower than 20%. In other words, if your phone is stolen in the United States, the police will basically not care. You are more likely to go back to the police yourself than they will solve the case.
Chicago, the crime capital, sees more than 2000 shootings a year, but fewer than 400 are solved, with 80% of the shooters remaining at large.
This extremely low crime-solving rate has directly led to a vicious cycle: criminals know that the police cannot catch them, so they become even more unscrupulous.
To get to the root of the problem, we have to go back to the issue of rampant gun ownership. There are more than 4 million guns in civilian hands in the United States, averaging 1.2 guns per person.
So many guns directly led to two consequences.
First: Robbers know you might also have a gun, so they'll shoot first and then rob you to make sure you don't resist.
Second: The police assume that anyone might draw their gun, so they empty the magazine at the slightest sign of trouble.
Even more outrageous is that laws restricting gun ownership are becoming increasingly lenient.
Texas allows people to openly carry guns in the streets without requiring any permits.
Florida allows teachers to carry firearms on school grounds for their own safety.
Private transactions and gun shows require almost no background checks, making it easy for criminals to obtain weapons.
Gun ban? First, ask the National Rifle Association (NRA) if they agree, and whether the politicians funded by the NRA agree.
You need money to get elected, right? I paid to help you get to power, and you turned around and stabbed me in the back?
You say you won't take my money? Okay, then I'll let whoever is more obedient take the lead. You can't even get to the poker table, so what makes you think you can ban guns?
Of course, besides guns, opioid and gambling abuse are also major contributing factors to crime. Most players who play the game do so not to improve their quality of life, but to earn money to buy fentanyl and carcaine.
The most serious case is Los Angeles, where drug addicts are everywhere in the poor streets and the police have no way to control them. The only measure is to set up "safe injection sites".
What does that mean? I'm giving you a designated area, so you can go in and have fun. When you're done, throw the needle in the medical waste bin and don't harm others.
In reality, this is a disguised form of encouragement and indulgence. Look how good I am to you all; no one else gets this kind of treatment.
Of course, there are truly safe places, at least in wealthy areas where the crime rate is almost zero.
There are more private security personnel than police in that area, and the police prioritize protecting wealthy communities, which is like double insurance.
Criminals know that robbing the rich is too risky, so they prefer to rob the poor.
But the worst off are not the poor, but the middle class caught in the middle.
Criminals love to rob the middle class. These people can't afford to live in rich neighborhoods, nor do they want to associate with the poor. They have some money, but not enough to hire bodyguards, making them prime targets.
As for how to define the middle class, it is not simply defined by income, because the cost of living is different in each state. In California, you may need to earn $10 a year to be considered to be at the middle class threshold.
But in poor states like Mississippi and New Mexico, earning $40,000 to $50,000 a year can be considered middle class.
Driving alone along Eclipse Avenue, looking at the clean and tidy street scene outside the window, Ma Jieke was a little absent-minded.
Today is a day off. A day off means doing whatever you want and spending 24 hours without any ulterior motives.
This is a holiday that Ma Bangzhu set for himself. The specific day is not fixed. He can rest whenever he wants without having to find a reason to convince himself.
Whether it's doing tasks or making money, it's all for a better life. And a better life is simply doing what I want to do and not doing what I don't want to do, right?
After wandering aimlessly for a while, Ma Jieke decided to ask a girl out to see a movie or have lunch. It was a bit cliché, but that's just his hobby.
Just as he opened the social media app, intending to send a message to Miss Angel, a golden light suddenly flashed before his eyes.
This is a built-in reminder mechanism of the treasure hunting skill, which is usually presented in this form when the map is not open.
Sure enough, after opening the map navigation app on the virtual panel, a shiny golden question mark appeared nearby.
What's frustrating is that, upon zooming in on the details, it appears that the question mark appears to be located in a private residence.
That's strange. According to the skill mechanism of the treasure hunting aura, it will only mark unclaimed items.
But how can something lost in someone else's house be considered lost?
That leaves only one possibility: the owner lost the item in their own house but couldn't find it, so the system classified it as a lost item.
After hesitating for a moment, Ma Jie drove towards the question mark. He couldn't help it; it was an occupational habit he couldn't break. If he didn't pick it up, he wouldn't be able to sleep well that night.
More importantly, this area is a wealthy neighborhood, so you can collect loot while also progressing through the challenge missions—why not?
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