Some scattered garbage can be seen beside the bumpy road. Among the grass that has not been mowed for a long time, there is a car. The wheels have been stolen long ago, the front windshield has been smashed, and the seats are messy. Dried blood could be faintly seen.
There are several dilapidated apartment buildings on both sides. The walls on the higher places have peeled off, while the lower walls are covered with various graffiti. People who don't know think these graffiti are works of art, but those who know the inside story know that these graffiti contain the signs of gang members, which are used to tell outsiders that this is their territory and to warn other gang members not to cross the line.
This is a poor neighborhood. Like other poor neighborhoods in the United States, it is chaotic, dilapidated, and filled with violence and crime at all times. If it is at night, even the Los Angeles police are unwilling to come here, and those so-called cultural facilities will stay away from such places.
A black teenager was lying in the corner, curling up and covering his head with his hands. Around him, three or five young people were punching and kicking him.
On the hood of the old car next to him, a blond-haired young man with a shaved head, wearing a vest, with tattoos exposed, and half a cigarette in his mouth stared condescendingly at the black boy and said viciously: "Tim, are you here?" You have been in the juvenile detention center for too long, and your brain has been so disciplined that you no longer work well? I will give you a chance to say it again."
"No, I won't help you transport goods anymore!" The black young man continued to curl up and roared in a trembling voice.
"It seems that there is a meal, your brain is not awake yet." Huang Fa Youth played the ash, looking at the black boy with a contempt, waved his fingers, and the people next to him were punched and kicked. .
"Tim, have you figured out what you should do now?" the yellow-haired young man then asked.
"If I continue to help you transport goods like before, once I am caught by the police, I will be sent to a juvenile detention center again. I will not be able to continue to practice boxing." The black boy said while breathing hard With.
"So what? It's not your first time in a juvenile detention center. None of us have ever been in that damn place!" The yellow-haired young man snorted coldly.
"I promised Kevin Taylor that I would practice boxing seriously. I would never do anything related to crime again. I would become a boxer." The black teenager said.
"Boxer? Hehehe, put away your naive dream!" The yellow-haired young man jumped down from the hood, bowed down, grabbed the black boy's head, and then said: "Tim, you should understand, You live here, you are a poor person, and in this neighborhood, the survival rules of the poor are to cheat or fool with me! There is no third way. This is your destiny and cannot be changed... So, you must You have to help me carry the goods, there is no other choice."
The yellow-haired young man said, kicked the black boy again, then waved his hand, turned around and left with his men.
Ten minutes later, the black boy got up with difficulty and limped towards the other direction...
…
Kevin Taylor Boxing Gym.
Taylor wandered back and forth in the boxing gym leisurely, and finally came to Chris Payton.
"These little guys didn't cause you any trouble, did they?" Taylor asked.
"No." Payton shook his head and continued: "Their performance is much better than I thought. In my impression, the people in the juvenile detention center should be dangerous elements, each of them is like a barrel of explosives. If ignited by fire, it will explode.”
"Actually, they just pretend to be stronger so that they can survive, but in fact, they all long for a stable life. It was the same when I was a child, fighting everywhere and using violence to solve everything, just to let Other peers, please don't bully me." Taylor sighed.
Payton pointed at a black teenager who was training: "There's one thing, that Tim, he was injured when he came today. This is not from boxing practice. He should have been fighting with someone else."
Taylor looked at the black boy, thought for a few seconds, and then said: "The information shows that he has been to the juvenile detention center twice before. The first time was for stealing things, and the second time was because something was found on his body. A small amount of drugs."
"Did he touch that thing himself?" Payton asked immediately.
"Of course he didn't touch that thing, otherwise he should be in a drug rehabilitation center, not here." Taylor said, lowering his voice, and then said: "The information says that this child lives over there in the South District, and the security there is But it’s not that great, there are still many Mexicans smuggled in, so fights should be commonplace!”
…
"Coach, I didn't fight with anyone, please don't drive me away!" Tim, a black boy, looked nervous.
"Then why did you get injured? Don't tell me it was caused by boxing. My training can't cause such an injury." Payton asked.
Tim lowered his head and was silent for a long time before speaking: "The gangsters near my home asked me to help them deliver goods, but I didn't agree to them, so they beat me up. But I didn't fight back, I didn't fight."
"Delivery? Is it drugs?" Payton said. He suddenly had a familiar feeling, as if he had seen a small drug dealer who specialized in using minors to deliver drugs to small buyers.
"I will never deliver goods for them again." Tim continued resolutely: "Even if they beat me again, I won't. I want to be a professional boxer, just like Kevin Taylor. That way, we can get the title of boxing champion. I know that like me, he also came out of a juvenile detention center, so I believe I can do it too."
"The power of role models is so powerful!" Payton sighed, and then asked: "You rejected those gangsters, they shouldn't just let you go, right?"
Tim didn't answer, but the panic in his eyes said it all.
"Where do you live?" Payton asked next.
"To the south..." Tim named the location of a block.
"Haha, no wonder I have a feeling of déjà vu." Payton suddenly laughed, and then continued: "Tim, this afternoon, after training, I will take you home! It just so happens that I also live there It’s been a long time since I’ve been home to visit that area.”
…
An old Chevrolet LMpala entered the run-down-looking neighborhood.
This car is very popular in the United States. It is a typical American economy car. The size of the car is large enough, the interior space is large enough, and the trunk is large enough. The whole car does not have high technical content, but it is sturdy enough. The engine technology is mature enough and the price is affordable. For Americans who prioritize pragmatism, it is definitely a very cost-effective choice.
Next to the street, a short tattooed man had noticed the car. This tattooed man was obviously a gang member. At this time, he subconsciously touched the pistol on his waist.
This Chevrolet LMpala is so common in the United States that many people engaged in illegal transactions will choose to steal such a common car to avoid police tracking. So the tattooed man was very worried that the person sitting in this car was not a good person. Maybe in the next second a man with a submachine gun would get out and shoot at everyone.
"Don't be nervous, we're one of our own, that's Chris's car." A bald black man wearing sunglasses and a big gold chain patted the short man on the shoulder and continued, "Although Chris doesn't come back a few times a year. , but I still know his license plate number."
"Chris? Which Chris?" The short man didn't react for a moment.
"Chris Payton! The third son of the Payton family. Several blocks around here are their family's territory, but I heard that Chris Payton did not mix in the family's voice, but did it outside. I hired a sports coach. He hardly comes back often." The bald man in sunglasses said.
"Sports coach? People in the Payton family will do a job that is safe and orderly. Hahaha, only a ghost can believe it!" The short man chuckled, looked at the direction in which the Chevrolet left, and then said: "The direction he drove in, It seems to be 'Yellow Jack's' territory, shouldn't the Payton family turn left?"
"Maybe there is something else." The bald man with sunglasses lit the cigarette in his hand, took a deep breath, blew out a smoke ring, and then said: "Jack only started managing that street last year. I don't know if he recognizes it. Chris Payton."
…
In the car, Tim looked around nervously.
"Coach, you don't have to send him off. Just stop here and I can walk back by myself." Tim said.
"It doesn't matter, I've been here before and I know the way without navigation." Payton said with an indifferent expression.
"Coach, I mean this place has been quite chaotic recently. There are a lot of gangsters, and there are also illegal immigrants from Mexico. It will be more dangerous for strangers to stay here for a long time. If you encounter trouble, even if you call the police, the police It will take a long time to come." Tim said in a worried tone.
"I said, it's okay, you don't have to worry about me, oh, turn right ahead, right?" Payton pointed to the fork in the road ahead.
"Yes, turn right, then turn left, and you will reach my house." As Tim said, he prayed in his heart that he would not be encountered by the yellow-haired young man, otherwise Peyton would be implicated.
…
"Boss, Tim lives over there. He should have gone home by now." The gangster pointed to a dilapidated apartment building in the distance.
"Let's go find him. I'm currently delivering the goods." The yellow-haired young man waved his hand and walked over with a few of his men.
An old Chevrolet LMpala drove from a distance and stopped at the door of the apartment.
Tim got out of the car and turned around to see the yellow-haired young man walking in the distance.
"Coach, let's go!" Tim suddenly shouted.
Payton did not listen to Tim, but opened the car door, got out of the car, and turned to look at the yellow-haired young man not far away.
…
"Boss, it's Tim! He seems to have brought a helper."
"So what if I have help? This street is my territory, and I have the final say here." The yellow-haired young man snorted coldly and led the people up.
…
"Boy, stop meddling in other people's business and get out of here!" The yellow-haired young man's tone was extremely arrogant.
"Who are you?" Payton looked at the yellow-haired young man coldly.
"This whole street is covered by me. Even if I kill you now, the police will not be able to do anything. They will just add one to the number of missing people. So while I am in a good mood, disappear from me immediately." !" The yellow-haired young man's attitude became even more arrogant.
Payton smiled disdainfully and said, "As far as I know, the several blocks around here are the territory of the Payton family."
"You actually know about the Payton family." The yellow-haired young man's aura suddenly weakened a bit. He looked at Payton up and down, wanting to know if Payton was a gang member in the underworld. However, from the outside, there is nothing visible about Payton except that he is slightly strong.
"Who are you?" The yellow-haired young man couldn't help but ask.
"I'm a coach, Tim's coach." Payton pointed to Tim, the black boy next to him.
"Just a coach? Hahaha... You are so strong, I thought you were Batman or Captain America!" The yellow-haired young man couldn't help laughing wildly, and several gangsters next to him also laughed.
However, Payton ignored the gangsters' ridicule and continued: "My name is Chris Payton."
"What do I call you...wait, Payton? Did he just say Payton?" The yellow-haired young man's laughter stopped suddenly, and his whole expression froze.
The next second, the yellow-haired young man suddenly asked his subordinates: "What did he say his name was?"
"Boss, he said his name is Chris Payton." The gangster next to him said immediately.
"Chris Payton, such a familiar name, Payton, he is also a coach, and he still looks so confident when he gets here..." The yellow-haired young man finally remembered the legendary third son of the Payton family.
Although this Chris Payton has never been involved in the Payton family's business, gang members in several nearby neighborhoods are aware of his existence. A person who grew up in a gangster family did not join the gangsters, but chose a proper job. Chris Payton is definitely an alternative among gangsters. This alternative existence is easily remembered by people.
"You are Chris!" The yellow-haired young man finally realized that he had kicked an iron plate. He is just a gangster from this street, at most a peripheral member of the Payton family gang, and the nearby blocks are the Payton family's sphere of influence. If he dares to harm Chris Payton, someone will probably come soon. Take his head to Payton's house to claim credit. Therefore, the yellow-haired young man cannot afford to offend Chris Payton.
"I prefer others to call me Coach Payton. I don't want anyone to harass my students." Payton's expression has turned cold.
"I understand, Coach Payton, I promise not to harass Tim again!" The yellow-haired young man can dominate a street, so he is certainly not the kind of brainless person.
…
"Okay, you don't have to worry about them making trouble for you anymore. If they still come to harass you, just tell me. At least in these few blocks, my words are still useful." Payton patted his butt. Tom's shoulders.
"Coach Payton, thank you!" Tim's eyes were full of admiration, which even made Payton a little uncomfortable.
"It seems that athletes often look at Coach Li like this! It feels really good." Payton smiled and returned to his Chevrolet.
Payton started the car, put it in gear, and looked ahead.
In the distance, the yellow-haired young man and his gangsters had walked away, but their backs could still be vaguely seen.
"Even if they don't find Tim, they will find other teenagers to 'carry goods' for them..." There was an inexplicable melancholy in Peyton's heart.
He can help one Tim, or he can help the second Tim, or the third Tim, but he cannot help everyone. The yellow-haired young man can always find other children, either coercion or inducement, and let them become "cargo" tools.
There are too many poor people in the nearby blocks. As the yellow-haired young man said, if the poor want to survive, they can only follow the survival rules of the poor.
"The cruel reality, helpless and desperate! But I am not the one who has the ability to change..." Chris Payton turned his head and looked into the distance. On the billboard high up, there was a huge promotional photo of the presidential candidate. Smiling at him.
Chris Payton had a sarcastic smile on his face. He suddenly didn't want to go home. He stepped on the accelerator and drove in the other direction.