Chapter 2: You Can Make Big Money

A man in a jacket stepped forward a few paces, stood before the half-meter-high wire fence, and confirmed he had not mistaken the person. He said, "I am Bruce, a subordinate of Boss Vincent."

Martin, recalling the details of his high-interest loan, asked, "What's the matter?"

Bruce placed both hands on the old wire fence. "I heard that old bastard Jack Davis ran away. Boss asked me to remind you not to forget your debt. The first installment is due next week."

The debt was personally borrowed by the former Martin Davis, so Martin could only respond reluctantly, "It's not overdue yet."

"A friendly reminder, be prepared." Bruce withdrew his hands, patted off the rust, grabbed his belt to pull up his trousers, and his jacket split to reveal a handgun under his armpit.

He smiled naively and said, "Don't worry, the Beast House is full of civilized people. The boss always teaches us to abide by the law."

Martin glanced at the gun, and his first thought was to run away.

The normal operation for being unable to repay debt is not to sell oneself but to run away.

But how could he run without money?

Martin remembered what Elena had said and asked, "Buddy, do the male dancers at Beast House make good money?"

He remembered that being a dancer was a legitimate profession, making money without shame.

"With good luck, you can earn a lot of tips every night." Bruce carefully examined Martin. This man had a proportionate build and outstanding looks. He smiled even more naively, "Beast House just opened and needs people. You know the place. If you want to be a dancer, just go there directly. You have the right conditions. Middle-aged women who are crazy with desire like guys like you. Buddy, you can make big money."

Can it be an option? Martin muttered, "I'll consider it."

Bruce got into the car and left.

Sounds were coming from the neighbor's yard - Elena's brother, Hall, was still digging.

Martin planned to visit the house repairman to demand his salary and solve the immediate food problem. Although mooching meals was good, in the long run, it wasn't sustainable.

Upon careful recollection, he realized that the office of the repairman Max was quite far from the Clayton community. Walking there would take a long time, and with his leg injury still unhealed, he couldn't walk for long distances without worsening his condition, which would cost more money.

He could only choose the bus.

Atlanta's public transportation was terrible, but there was a bus route from Clayton straight to the street where Max's office was located. A one-way ticket cost fifty cents.

Martin took out his wallet, which was empty. The little money he had left was spent on medicines by Harris.

Dr. Bill only prescribed veterinary medicine, which Martin didn't dare to use even if it was free.

Looking at the neighboring house, Martin gave up the idea of mugging a kid, returned inside, and only found a single 25-cent coin.

Martin remembered that Elena's father, Scott, owned a grocery store that accepted stolen goods and junk. He couldn't help but look over at his wooden house.

There were only the most basic old sofa, a low wooden table, and a broken wooden bed. Any valuable furniture and electrical appliances had long been sold off by the Carter family.

The remaining items were not just broken but heavy.

With an injured leg, carrying a sofa or a table to sell wasn't realistic. From the drawer of the low wooden table, he took out a pair of pliers with damaged insulation and went to the yard side facing the Carter family, cutting the rusty wire fence and rolling it up.

The wire fence had many sharp edges, making it inconvenient to handle. Martin returned to the house and after searching for a while, found a rope under the bed.

"Will selling the Carter family's fence to Scott Carter work?" Martin thought it shouldn't be a problem. Many houses in the community had similar fences.

Suddenly, from next door came a scream, sounding like Harris.

Martin quickly went outside, heading towards the Carter's.

In the Carter's yard, a bike lay on its side, next to a hole in the ground. Loose dirt was falling into the hole through an eroded piece of cardboard.

Harris was sitting on the ground, clutching one arm, tears streaming from the pain.

The ten-year-old Hall Carter stood in front of him, mocking, "Loser, get up, don't act like a wimp!"

Harris shouted angrily, "Shut up, idiot! There's a 90% chance my left arm is broken!"

Hall's tone weakened a bit, "I was just joking. I made a small trap. You're too weak..."

Martin, experienced from being a stunt double, recognized the signs of a broken forearm. He said, coming closer, "Bad luck, you hit the jackpot--forearm fracture."

"Damn it!" Harris was drenched in sweat from the pain.

Feeling guilty, Hall backed away and fell on his butt.

Seeing that Harris had no other injuries, Martin said, "You need treatment. I'll take you to Dr. Bill like you mentioned."

Harris's face was filled with fear. "Bill can't treat fractures. If I go to him, there's a 100% chance I'll be crippled."

"Carter family will get an extra disability benefit!" Martin teased, and then reminded, "Don't move your left arm."

Just then, hurried footsteps sounded, and the door creaked open as fourteen-year-old Lily Carter rushed out. "What dumb thing did you two do? Hall, where did this damn hole come from?"

Martin interrupted her, "Go inform your sister that Harris broke his arm."

"I'll borrow a phone from Mrs. Wood." Lily dashed across the road for help.

Martin deliberately engaged Harris in conversation to distract him. "Back so soon?"

Harris, gritting his teeth, said, "The Cole sisters had an emergency and aren't home."

Within a few minutes, Lily returned with a phone, saying, "Elena borrowed a car and is rushing back."

Upon hearing Elena's name, Hall started crawling backwards, trying to hide.

Elena's job wasn't far, so she quickly drove back.

In her hurry, she hadn't even changed out of her teddy bear costume pants.

Seeing Harris's condition, Elena nervously took out her wallet. She had a few one-dollar and five-dollar bills, and two twenty-dollar bills. Flustered, she said, "Don't worry. I'll think of something. I can definitely think of a solution!"

Having been eaten free meals for a week, Martin patted her shoulder, "Give me the car keys."

Elena instinctively handed over the keys.

"Wait here. I'll go get some money." Martin took the keys and walked towards the car.

Lily Carter suddenly caught up, handing the borrowed phone to Martin. "Take this. If we can't pay back, you can contact Elena anytime..."

She repeatedly extended and retracted her longest finger.

Martin pushed her away by the forehead.

Getting into the car, he familiarized himself with the gears, then started the vehicle and sped off south from Clayton community.

Max's office was located on the edge of the Marietta business district. The route from Clayton had roads that were old and full of potholes, which slowed him down.

After half an hour, Martin arrived in front of a four-story office building. He parked the car, went inside, and found Max's repair company office on the second floor.

Knocking on the door, he was greeted by a burly Latino. "What do you want?"

"I'm one of Mr. Max's workers. I'm here to talk about work," Martin replied.

The blinds in the inner office opened, and someone spoke, "Martin, come in."

Entering the inner office, Martin quickly scanned the room. Display windows, shelves, and the desk were all adorned with teddy bears of varying sizes.

Even the family photos on the desk had a giant teddy bear in the background.

The photos displayed a family of four with hearty smiles.

A warm, harmonious, and happy family that loved teddy bears.

Observant as ever, Martin noticed some other details.

Scattered white powder was visible on the piles of paper on the wooden desk. The middle-aged Max frequently twitched his nose, and barely noticeable white particles clung to the few nasal hairs protruding from his nostrils, with his eyes above his large nose appearing red and bloodshot.

Martin, having seen many such people from the lower class, quickly associated him with the likes of Scott Carter and Emma Carter.

Max seemed somewhat exhilarated and asked, "Is your injury healed?"

Martin replied, "My head still feels heavy and aches occasionally. My leg also hurts."

"You've come for your salary, I understand." Max opened the large drawer in the middle, took out a cash check, and pushed it towards Martin, "Here, this is yours."

*****

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