Chapter 32: Someone Attacks the Motel

"This is unfair. You can't use an Asian person's body odor as a benchmark. Damn it, I really don't have a smell! Smell me!"

Unable to take it any longer, Sophia lunged at Zhao Baitong, shoving her armpit right into his face.

Zhao Baitong: "Ugh, gag!"

Five minutes later, Zhao Baitong held a pistol to Sophia's head, repeatedly wiping his nose with a tissue.

"Sophia, if you ever do that again, I won't be so polite!" With that, he drove off with Chris toward the morgue.

Sophia slumped her head, feeling as though her entire sense of self-confidence had been shattered.

Back at the motel, Yang Jie looked over two detailed dossiers and nodded to himself. Both mother and daughter were talented: one was a forensic pathologist and actress, skilled in medicine and human anatomy. The acting part didn't matter; with the economy in a slump, taking on a side gig was normal, perhaps even a hobby. The daughter was even more useful than Jin Zhiyan—she studied IT, which would perfectly fill the manpower gap in Zhao Baitong's team. Most importantly, both women were enthusiasts of shooting; they only needed a bit of training to be ready.

Counting them up—himself, Li Siyao, Zhao Baitong, Sharapova, Sophia, Cui Huizhu, Jin Zhiyan, and Chris—adding these last two brought the total to ten.

Yang Jie let out a long sigh toward the sky. "I really didn't want to recruit this many women. Are there no normal brothers who want to join?"

Lunch arrived shortly after, but the moment Yang Jie saw it, his appetite vanished. Grilled cheese, a buttery cheese burger, and a salad drenched in dressing—not even three doses of insulin could handle that. Still, to maintain his strength, he had no choice but to wolf down nine of the portions, tossing the last one to Yang Rongrong.

The day passed with little incident, but as evening approached and the sun began to set, shouts erupted one after another, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass. Seeing the flames rising outside, Yang Jie knew some rioters had made Molotov cocktails.

As the protest march headed toward the city, a group broke away from the main crowd and marched aggressively toward the motel. Soon, the sound of vandalism echoed. Yang Jie immediately opened the door, pistol in hand, staring coldly at the five thugs surrounding his car.

"Before I blow your brains out, get the hell out of here, now!"

The five thugs glared at him, and one reached toward his waist. Yang Jie immediately pointed his weapon at him and shouted, "Don't! I highly suggest you don't do that!"

*Bang, bang, bang!*

After a dozen shots, the five thugs collapsed to the ground, twitching. Yang Jie went over to check their pulses, then called the police and requested an ambulance. Whether they lived or died was no concern of his; as long as he followed the legal procedures, everything else was none of his business. He was even recording on his camera, so even if it went to court, he was guaranteed to win.

Suddenly, a loud gunshot rang out nearby. Yang Jie retreated into his room, keeping a watchful eye. Seven or eight thugs came scrambling out of a room, running as if their lives depended on it. Soon after, an old white man in a tank top stormed out with a shotgun, cursing loudly. When he spotted Yang Jie on the second floor, he paused, gave a slight nod, and retreated into his room. A moment later, two corpses were tossed out.

Yang Jie nodded in satisfaction.

Yang Rongrong held her pistol, looking at Yang Jie with nervous eyes. "Is it starting again?"

"Yeah, I took out five, and an old guy downstairs took out two. They probably won't be back for a while."

Yang Rongrong slumped onto the bed, her legs feeling like jelly. "How can it be like this? Even in the worst neighborhoods, it shouldn't be this bad, right? Isn't buying a gun supposed to be strictly regulated?"

Yang Jie tilted his head with a smirk. "Honey, you have to remember, you're in Texas now—a state with more jerks than good people, and a very rugged culture. The rules you're talking about apply to California. Here, as long as you have money, it doesn't matter if you're a man, a woman, or even a dog—if you've got the cash, you can buy a gun!"

"Wait," she said. "I wanted to ask—a relative of mine has a kid planning to come here for school. Do you think it's a good idea? Situations like this don't happen every day, do they?"

Yang Jie shook his head decisively. "How could it be like this every day? Demonstrations are rare. In the 'Beautiful Country,' protests usually require registration; people just chant slogans. You don't see this kind of thing more than once every few years." He paused. "By the way, what is your relative's kid studying?"

Yang Rongrong recalled for a long moment before shaking her head. "The name was long, but it had something to do with biochemistry."

Yang Jie looked at her in astonishment. "What the hell? They're studying that and still want to come to the 'Beautiful Country'?"

Yang Rongrong was baffled by his reaction. "What's wrong with that field?"

Yang Jie took a deep breath, pursed his lips, and shook his head. "That field usually requires a PhD, taking at least eight years. And people who study that, especially from elite schools—once they go abroad, they almost never come back. It means that once people like that go abroad, they have zero security."

Yang Rongrong said, terrified, "How is that possible? Isn't there anyone to look after them?"

Yang Jie rolled his eyes. "You guys at home are really coddled. You think the world is dark just because you watch some domestic entertainment? Let me tell you, any 'darkness' you encounter at home doesn't even compare to one-tenth of what happens abroad! Do you know what they call Chinese students in the biochemistry field?"

For some reason, as Yang Jie spoke, Yang Rongrong's hair stood on end. "What?"

"Organ farms! Because our country has strict drug laws, our blood and organs are untainted by narcotics or drug abuse. In the eyes of Westerners, that makes us the purest 'raw materials.' Whenever it involves biochemistry, especially for those from top schools going abroad, they think they're just using materials for research. In reality, once they lose their value, those students themselves are the materials!"

Yang Rongrong was completely stunned. Every time she visited the 'Beautiful Country,' apart from the poor infrastructure, everything seemed fine. Why had the tone shifted so drastically since yesterday? She hadn't even had time to adapt before feeling like she’d entered a world she had never known. Perhaps this was the true face of the world.

Yang Rongrong thought for a moment and immediately called her relative, emphasizing that the person who had revealed this was an extremely powerful and knowledgeable figure. Even then, her relative kept muttering, seemingly unwilling to believe it.