There are three entrances and exits to the 115th District, the largest of which is the toll booth leading to Bridge No. 4. Gary was right; it's located at the end of the pedestrian street, and it's always jammed with long lines. When the two of them arrived in their requisitioned car, they were already at the latter half of the lower loop. Many people, freshly finished working overtime, were dragging their exhausted bodies along the sidewalks on both sides of the road.
Since the two men were not driving a police car, and in order to conceal their presence, they did not arrogantly choose to cut in line, but obediently followed at the end of the convoy, about a hundred meters away from the real exit.
From this position, you can see many things that you cannot see before, such as vendors selling contraband secretly, bandits trying to rob people, scantily clad fallen women, or beggars emitting a foul smell. They usually come in groups of three or five, keeping vigilance against each other, yet often maintaining a strange connection.
Logically speaking, the toll station is an important source of tax revenue for the local area, and Gary's colleagues should have cleared out the idlers around it. Unfortunately, the benefits that the transportation hub can bring are too huge, which is definitely enough for some people who are at the end of their rope to take risks.
"Knock, knock, knock, knock..." Another guy knocked on the window of the smart car they were in.
He looked to be in his forties or fifties, with a gaunt face and sallow complexion, making him unrecognizable. He wore a heavily patched gray-black coat that dragged on the ground, obscuring his figure. He wore a brown brimmed hat, the folds of which were stained with indescribable oil. Gary had seen many such men before. They were usually the vanguard of robbers, con men skilled in rhetoric and deception. After prying open the doors of their chosen targets' cars, the unlucky drivers were often left with nothing but their money and their lives.
He opened the window a crack so that his voice could be heard without letting the other party see what was inside the car. "I don't want anything, thank you!" He quickly closed the window.
"Knock, knock, knock!" The man kept knocking on the window.
Helpless, Gary could only open it again.
"Sir, I mean no harm," the con man said, feigning pity and using a prepared line. "It's just that my children live on the other side of the river, and I'm broke. Please give me a ride! I can pay once we get there. I can pay a lot!"
"Oh, what a poor brother! Let him in, George, we still have a lot of empty seats." Without waiting for Gary to answer, 11B in the back seat also opened the window.
Gary could only continue his drama with him: "David, are you going to ruin your big business for this stinky bug? Take my advice, don't let him in, otherwise even if you wash off a layer of skin, you can't wash off the filth on your body!"
"Oh, okay. That's such a pity. If it weren't for today, I would really like to ask him to keep the guy in our trunk company!" 11B's words were full of regret and a little bit of cold madness.
The con man froze for two seconds, then broke out in a cold sweat. He nervously held onto the ugly hat, as if wanting to escape, yet he tried his best to remain calm. "First, gentlemen, look, it seems you're more anxious than I am. I can wait a little longer, a little longer... You guys go ahead and get busy!"
"Obviously, we're not in a rush," 11B continued to press. "How about you talk about your children? Look, it doesn't look like you'll be able to get a ride right now. We can just wait until we're done and notify the kids across the street to come pick you up. All you have to do now is take care of yourself, right?"
"No, thanks. Thank you kind gentlemen, and I wish you a prosperous business!" The scammer ran away like the wind.
Gary closed the window. "Do you think this will help?"
"Maybe. At least they won't bother us anymore. But it might backfire. Hopefully, the guys at the toll booth will be smarter."
"Then get ready! As far as I know, the bandits and officials here are brothers who wear the same pants."
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