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american comcis _ tales of caltiveter _chapter_0118_part_02
Chapter 197
chapter 0118 part 2
This meant Tang Song had to book a direct flight from Ushuaia to New York.
Two people squeezed onto the large sofa. Fox was almost half-leaning into Tang Song's embrace, holding a food box in one hand and feeding Boss Tang various delicacies with the other. "Hmm, this one is good, have another!" Tang Song took a bite of a pie similar to a chive box.
This was a local snack from Ushuaia. Inside were minced beef, pork, chicken meat or ham, as well as cheese and vegetables.
Seasoned with spices like chili powder, salt, and cumin, and finally deep-fried.
Fox smiled and picked up another one from the food box and brought it to Boss Tang's mouth.
Tang Song finished the pie in two or three bites, and casually took Fox's two fingers into his mouth...
About half an hour later, an attendant came to Tang Song's sofa, leaned down, and from behind the Bodyguards, softly spoke to Boss Tang from a distance:
"Are you Mr. Song Tang? Your boarding time has arrived! Please proceed to the VIP boarding Gate!"
……………………
New York, night. An Alley in Brooklyn.
A red truck parked sideways blocked the entrance to the Alley.
Inside the Alley, a group of fully armed Soldiers stood with guns. The grim atmosphere frightened a Middle-aged Man in ragged clothes with a full beard, who showed fear on his face.
He looked at this group of people, not knowing what awaited him.
He was just a "Mole Person", suddenly brought here, and didn't know the reason, which made him inexplicably terrified.
The so-called Mole People are not some race of others, but a group of homeless people on the fringes of society, living in abandoned Subway Tunnels and Sewers beneath the most prosperous areas of New York City, like moles, living a life without sunlight.
According to incomplete statistics, there are currently over 2000 "Mole People" in New York.
For various reasons, they entered the abandoned Subway Tunnels and Sewers, finding a place to live.
Living a poor, dangerous, yet relatively free life, often staying for decades...
Martin had been a Mole Person for five years. He was originally Cuban and had been in the Federation for nearly thirty years. That year, he sat in a small boat and smuggled himself from Cuba to Florida.
When he first arrived in the Federation, he also longed for a good life, but reality was harsh. He did many jobs, none of which lasted long.
Gradually, as he got older, it became increasingly difficult for Martin to find a suitable job.
Without a source of income, he could only wander the streets. Martin initially stayed at government shelters, but soon found that they were a mixed bag of good and bad people. Staying there meant either being bullied or robbed, fighting was commonplace, and there was a large group of addicts and criminals lurking.
After staying in shelters on and off for a few years, Martin finally couldn't bear it anymore and returned to wandering the streets.
During this time wandering, he met many friends who shared similar experiences. One of whom happened to be one of the rumored "Mole Tribe".
He told Martin that he had long found a great place, which was a Sewer in an abandoned Subway Tunnel.
Thus, Martin officially became a member of the "Mole Tribe", and lived there for five years.
To be honest, life in the Sewer wasn't too difficult. Where he lived, there was a supermarket nearby, which threw out a lot of nearly expired food every day.
Relying on this barely edible food, Martin could basically achieve "self-sufficiency".
He often joked to himself that this was food given by God.
Just recently, while Martin was picking up this food given by "God", he was held at gunpoint by two black men, put into a truck, and brought here.
Just as Martin was feeling terrified and uneasy, a black Mercedes-Benz car drove over from the other side of the Alley with its lights on.
The dazzling bright lights made Martin unable to resist shielding his eyes with his hand.
Bang! Two sounds of car doors opening and closing rang out, followed by the sound of footsteps. Under the lights, Martin, with his head lowered, saw three figures standing in front of him.
"Mr. Lane, it's him. This Mole Person knows the whereabouts of the group of people you're looking for!"
Martin heard this familiar voice and couldn't help but turn his head to look.
In the shadow, a dark, thin figure stood there, pointing directly at him with his hand.
Martin recognized him. This was a black man thug who frequented that supermarket year-round, doing Zero-Dollar Shopping (Looting). The only interaction between the two was when Martin once stumbled upon his Zero-Dollar Shopping (Looting) and was severely beaten by him.
"You know the whereabouts of that group of werewolves!"
Before Martin could figure out what was happening, a low but gentle voice sounded.
Martin turned his head. After his eyes adjusted to the lights, he finally saw the appearance of the three people in front of him clearly.
Leading them was a German-descent white man over two meters tall, with silver-white buzz-cut hair, wearing a tailcoat, with a suit vest underneath, and wearing a pair of white gloves.
To his left was a burly Big man wearing a skeleton shirt, with a fierce look on his face, playing with a ballistic knife at his fingertips.
The last one was a stunning woman in a black leather trench coat, very beautiful, Martin couldn't even describe it...
"You know the whereabouts of that group of werewolves!?"
A gentle voice pulled Martin back to reality. He shook his head tremblingly.
"I, I don't know what you're talking about?"
"Hmm?" Lane's gaze turned to the thin black man beside him.
The thin black man flinched, rushed directly in front of Martin, and loudly questioned: "Fuck, didn't you say that you saw a group of people howling in the Sewer whenever there was a full moon?"
"Did I? I don't remember. I didn't say that. No!"
Looking at the guy who had severely beaten him, Martin's eyes revealed a hint of resentment, shaking his head and repeatedly denying it.
"You clearly said it! Just two days ago, I was at the Alley entrance, I clearly heard you say..."
The thin black man was so anxious he was almost stomping his feet. If Lane hadn't been here, he probably would have lunged forward and grabbed Martin by the neck to question him.
"Alright!"
Lane waved his hand, telling the thin black man to step aside. He looked at the Mole Person in front of him with a smile.
"Have you or have you not seen that group of werewolves? This information is very important to me. If your information is useful, you will get a decent job and a rent-free apartment for five years!"
Martin looked at Lane, hesitated for a moment: "I have indeed seen a group of people. They are very strong and very violent. Not far from where I live, in the Sewer beneath another abandoned Subway Station..."
"Very good!"
Lane clapped his hands, "Then please trouble you to show us the way. After the matters are done, you will get what you want!"
Martin tremblingly followed several Soldiers into a commercial vehicle.
"Mr. Lane!"
Just as Lane opened the back seat of the Mercedes-Benz car, the thin black man who had been shrinking to the side, not daring to make a sound, timidly called out.
Lane turned his head and glanced at him: "You're Billy's man, right? Go back and tell him to take fifty thousand US Dollars from the account!"
"Thank you, Mr. Lane, thank you, Mr. Lane!"
A wave of ecstasy appeared on the thin black man's face, and he kept thanking Lane.
"Boss is coming back tomorrow. Using these werewolves as a gift, he should be very happy!"
In the passenger seat of the Mercedes-Benz car, Lane was resting his eyes. Frank beside him silently drove the car, following the commercial vehicle in front.
(End of chapter)
This meant Tang Song had to book a direct flight from Ushuaia to New York.
Two people squeezed onto the large sofa. Fox was almost half-leaning into Tang Song's embrace, holding a food box in one hand and feeding Boss Tang various delicacies with the other. "Hmm, this one is good, have another!" Tang Song took a bite of a pie similar to a chive box.
This was a local snack from Ushuaia. Inside were minced beef, pork, chicken meat or ham, as well as cheese and vegetables.
Seasoned with spices like chili powder, salt, and cumin, and finally deep-fried.
Fox smiled and picked up another one from the food box and brought it to Boss Tang's mouth.
Tang Song finished the pie in two or three bites, and casually took Fox's two fingers into his mouth...
About half an hour later, an attendant came to Tang Song's sofa, leaned down, and from behind the Bodyguards, softly spoke to Boss Tang from a distance:
"Are you Mr. Song Tang? Your boarding time has arrived! Please proceed to the VIP boarding Gate!"
……………………
New York, night. An Alley in Brooklyn.
A red truck parked sideways blocked the entrance to the Alley.
Inside the Alley, a group of fully armed Soldiers stood with guns. The grim atmosphere frightened a Middle-aged Man in ragged clothes with a full beard, who showed fear on his face.
He looked at this group of people, not knowing what awaited him.
He was just a "Mole Person", suddenly brought here, and didn't know the reason, which made him inexplicably terrified.
The so-called Mole People are not some race of others, but a group of homeless people on the fringes of society, living in abandoned Subway Tunnels and Sewers beneath the most prosperous areas of New York City, like moles, living a life without sunlight.
According to incomplete statistics, there are currently over 2000 "Mole People" in New York.
For various reasons, they entered the abandoned Subway Tunnels and Sewers, finding a place to live.
Living a poor, dangerous, yet relatively free life, often staying for decades...
Martin had been a Mole Person for five years. He was originally Cuban and had been in the Federation for nearly thirty years. That year, he sat in a small boat and smuggled himself from Cuba to Florida.
When he first arrived in the Federation, he also longed for a good life, but reality was harsh. He did many jobs, none of which lasted long.
Gradually, as he got older, it became increasingly difficult for Martin to find a suitable job.
Without a source of income, he could only wander the streets. Martin initially stayed at government shelters, but soon found that they were a mixed bag of good and bad people. Staying there meant either being bullied or robbed, fighting was commonplace, and there was a large group of addicts and criminals lurking.
After staying in shelters on and off for a few years, Martin finally couldn't bear it anymore and returned to wandering the streets.
During this time wandering, he met many friends who shared similar experiences. One of whom happened to be one of the rumored "Mole Tribe".
He told Martin that he had long found a great place, which was a Sewer in an abandoned Subway Tunnel.
Thus, Martin officially became a member of the "Mole Tribe", and lived there for five years.
To be honest, life in the Sewer wasn't too difficult. Where he lived, there was a supermarket nearby, which threw out a lot of nearly expired food every day.
Relying on this barely edible food, Martin could basically achieve "self-sufficiency".
He often joked to himself that this was food given by God.
Just recently, while Martin was picking up this food given by "God", he was held at gunpoint by two black men, put into a truck, and brought here.
Just as Martin was feeling terrified and uneasy, a black Mercedes-Benz car drove over from the other side of the Alley with its lights on.
The dazzling bright lights made Martin unable to resist shielding his eyes with his hand.
Bang! Two sounds of car doors opening and closing rang out, followed by the sound of footsteps. Under the lights, Martin, with his head lowered, saw three figures standing in front of him.
"Mr. Lane, it's him. This Mole Person knows the whereabouts of the group of people you're looking for!"
Martin heard this familiar voice and couldn't help but turn his head to look.
In the shadow, a dark, thin figure stood there, pointing directly at him with his hand.
Martin recognized him. This was a black man thug who frequented that supermarket year-round, doing Zero-Dollar Shopping (Looting). The only interaction between the two was when Martin once stumbled upon his Zero-Dollar Shopping (Looting) and was severely beaten by him.
"You know the whereabouts of that group of werewolves!"
Before Martin could figure out what was happening, a low but gentle voice sounded.
Martin turned his head. After his eyes adjusted to the lights, he finally saw the appearance of the three people in front of him clearly.
Leading them was a German-descent white man over two meters tall, with silver-white buzz-cut hair, wearing a tailcoat, with a suit vest underneath, and wearing a pair of white gloves.
To his left was a burly Big man wearing a skeleton shirt, with a fierce look on his face, playing with a ballistic knife at his fingertips.
The last one was a stunning woman in a black leather trench coat, very beautiful, Martin couldn't even describe it...
"You know the whereabouts of that group of werewolves!?"
A gentle voice pulled Martin back to reality. He shook his head tremblingly.
"I, I don't know what you're talking about?"
"Hmm?" Lane's gaze turned to the thin black man beside him.
The thin black man flinched, rushed directly in front of Martin, and loudly questioned: "Fuck, didn't you say that you saw a group of people howling in the Sewer whenever there was a full moon?"
"Did I? I don't remember. I didn't say that. No!"
Looking at the guy who had severely beaten him, Martin's eyes revealed a hint of resentment, shaking his head and repeatedly denying it.
"You clearly said it! Just two days ago, I was at the Alley entrance, I clearly heard you say..."
The thin black man was so anxious he was almost stomping his feet. If Lane hadn't been here, he probably would have lunged forward and grabbed Martin by the neck to question him.
"Alright!"
Lane waved his hand, telling the thin black man to step aside. He looked at the Mole Person in front of him with a smile.
"Have you or have you not seen that group of werewolves? This information is very important to me. If your information is useful, you will get a decent job and a rent-free apartment for five years!"
Martin looked at Lane, hesitated for a moment: "I have indeed seen a group of people. They are very strong and very violent. Not far from where I live, in the Sewer beneath another abandoned Subway Station..."
"Very good!"
Lane clapped his hands, "Then please trouble you to show us the way. After the matters are done, you will get what you want!"
Martin tremblingly followed several Soldiers into a commercial vehicle.
"Mr. Lane!"
Just as Lane opened the back seat of the Mercedes-Benz car, the thin black man who had been shrinking to the side, not daring to make a sound, timidly called out.
Lane turned his head and glanced at him: "You're Billy's man, right? Go back and tell him to take fifty thousand US Dollars from the account!"
"Thank you, Mr. Lane, thank you, Mr. Lane!"
A wave of ecstasy appeared on the thin black man's face, and he kept thanking Lane.
"Boss is coming back tomorrow. Using these werewolves as a gift, he should be very happy!"
In the passenger seat of the Mercedes-Benz car, Lane was resting his eyes. Frank beside him silently drove the car, following the commercial vehicle in front.
(End of chapter)
