These past few days, the reports on the police assault case have been widespread, yet they primarily focus on the two criminals and the recent racial conflicts in America. There's been no mention of the victim, but just by following the news, Jin Muchen understands their intentions.
Evidently, the parents of Hurst and several other wealthy offspring do not wish to have their children exposed in the media. After all, families like theirs prefer to operate discreetly. Moreover, who knows if those two lunatics have other accomplices or plans for retaliation? So just by keeping up with the news, Jin Muchen knows what these people are worrying about. Of course, he himself has no intention of going to the media to disclose anything. After all, he prefers to live a quiet life.
Both of those black criminals were injured by his hand. Who knows if those two still have other accomplices?
"Oh, by the way, where do you live? I can drop you off," West asked Jin Muchen standing at the hospital entrance.
"Thank you. Can you drop me off directly at the parking lot near SoHo?"
"No problem. Get in the car!"
During these days in the hospital, Jin Muchen didn't dare to tell Fang Bo what had happened, afraid of worrying him. So he simply told him that he and a few friends were out of town for a few days. Besides, with John, he simply chose to resign from his job. After all, he was now a millionaire; there was no need to work as a laborer at the distribution center anymore.
Though John was disappointed, he didn't say much. He had long realized that Jin Muchen didn't belong here; leaving was just a matter of time. They agreed on a time, and in a couple of days, Jin Muchen would go to the distribution center to handle some formalities and then bid them farewell.
This was a relatively quiet bar with an elegant ambiance. A record player at the entrance played soothing blues. Above the bar counter, there was a large-screen TV showing a match between the Washington D.C. Union and the New York Metropolitans.
Several fans were sitting at the bar counter, watching the match intently. Behind the bar counter, there were a few billiard tables, where several couples were playing billiards. However, the atmosphere there was much livelier than at the bar counter.
Occasionally, there would be whistles and screams from women. Nevertheless, the environment here was much more refined than the Red Pony Bar next to the distribution center where Jin Muchen had been before.
After all, this was the East Village in Manhattan, known for its stylish bars, frequented by the children of the wealthy seeking one-night stands. It was quite different from the gathering place for rough guys at the distribution center.
No one smoked in the bar, nor were there waitresses with waistlines like barrels. The patrons here were professionals in suits and ties, as well as well-groomed female literary enthusiasts or white-collar workers working nearby.
Jin Muchen sat at the bar counter with a glass of whiskey in front of him. But his mind wasn't on the match playing on the TV screen; instead, he occasionally glanced back at the chestnut-haired guy challenging others at the pool table.
That guy was the target Jin Muchen had been trying to get close to recently, Randy Friedrich, the spendthrift he had learned about from that old black man's mouth.
Since leaving the hospital, he hadn't gone to work at the distribution center. Fang Bo largely agreed with his idea, especially after learning the selling price of those few lamps. With a net worth of a million, he had no need to labor at the distribution center anymore; it was a waste of time. He should focus entirely on learning how to identify antiques.
So during this period, Jin Muchen spent most of his days studying antique identification with Fang Bo in the shop, and at night, he sought opportunities to approach Randy.
Ever since he learned about this guy's situation from the old black man's mouth, he had been thinking about his background for quite some time.
Recently, Candice has also been busy preparing for the final exams, and the two of them haven't had much time for dates. Jin Muchen, on the other hand, has been focused on figuring out how to profit from this spendthrift. However, he hasn't yet made up his mind on how to approach Randy and visit his house to collect items. In essence, this transaction is akin to the concept of exploring old houses in China, but there are many differences. After all, the current master of the Friedrich family is the non-deceased Hoffman Friedrich, Randy's father. If he were to visit his house abruptly, he might very well be turned away at the door.
During this period, after studying the situation of the Friedrich family, Jin Muchen has figured out that if he wants to successfully explore the old house, it's best to start with Randy. Hoffman Friedrich is a descendant of German immigrants. His father, Hank, once participated in World War II, representing the American side, as he was dispatched to the Pacific theater due to his German heritage. Later, after the end of World War II, Hank was stationed in China for a period. According to some sources, he managed to acquire a lot of valuable items from China. Later, he used those antiques to make a fortune, sending his son, Hoffman, to Harvard Law School and grooming him into a well-known lawyer in New York. However, his grandson Randy isn't as outstanding as his son Hoffman. Randy has been pampered since childhood and has developed bad habits. If it weren't for the fact that he is the only son of the Friedrich family, he would probably have been expelled from the family by his father long ago.
These past few days, Jin Muchen has been contemplating how to approach Randy, but he hasn't found a suitable opportunity yet. After all, Randy may be a spendthrift, but he's not stupid. If he were to naively approach him, claiming he wants to purchase antiques from his family, who knows how Randy would react? On the one hand, he might agree but demand a hefty price, which would defeat the purpose of exploring the old house. On the other hand, he might refuse, which would complicate matters even further.
"Martini, please," Jin Muchen said absentmindedly, staring at the glass in front of him. Suddenly, Randy's voice rang out from beside him, snapping him out of his reverie. Jin Muchen turned his head and saw Randy wearing a coarse demeanor, his eyes bloodshot. At the same time, he angrily tore open the collar of his shirt, causing a button to fly off. He seemed very upset.
"What's wrong? Did Randy lose again?" The fiery-haired female bartender, familiar with Randy, asked teasingly as she brought him a martini.
Randy tilted his head back and downed the martini in one gulp. "Another one, Maddy. Larry just got lucky. I'm not in the zone today. Let him have a few rounds." Randy panted, looking behind him at the pool table, where a blond kid was embracing a beautiful woman. When he saw Randy looking over, he laughed heartily, raising the beer bottle in his hand and five green bills in the other, winking at Randy provocatively, followed by a burst of laughter from that end.
Obviously, Randy had just been thoroughly beaten at the pool table. The female bartender behind the bar counter, wiping glasses, shook her head with a smile. Randy, on the other hand, angrily turned his head.
"Kofi dodges Rollins's tackle. He's lightning-fast. Tyrone runs up from the side, planning to ambush Kofi at the 15-yard line. He leaps out. Oh my God! What did I just see? Kofi seems to have eyes in the back of his head. He jumps to dodge Tyrone's ambush, touchdown! The Washington DC Union is leading the New York Metropolitans, with three minutes and fifteen seconds left in the game, if..." The game commentator's voice came from the front, like a rap singer, as a guy in a red jersey smashed the ball into the scoring area, causing a commotion among the fans in front of the bar counter.
However, Randy was clearly not pleased with the outcome. He pounded the table angrily. "F-u-c-k! How could this happen?"
He grabbed the curls on his head, and judging by the intensity of his anger, it was clearly more than just about his favorite team losing the game.
Meanwhile, the red-haired bartender quietly approached him. "Looks like New York is going to lose today. Randy, with what you owe from before, you now owe eight thousand bucks."
"Don't worry, I'll definitely pay you back. Give me a few days. The Friedrich family isn't short of money. Marti, another martini, please!" Randy impatiently waved at the waitress, who crossed her arms and glared at him for a moment before shaking her head in resignation and pouring him another drink.
Randy took the drink, downed it in one gulp, and then turned to glare at Jin Muchen. "What are you looking at? Chink, you and your kind should stay hidden in the Chinatown laundromats. Why do you have to show up here?"
It seemed that Randy was feeling sore about losing money and was looking for trouble, but this hostility was directed at Jin Muchen unexpectedly. This caught Jin Muchen off guard, especially with Randy's racist remarks. Jin Muchen was immediately enraged, forgetting all about his plans to explore the old house. Right now, he just wanted to teach this jerk a lesson.
"Hey, Randy, have you had too much to drink? If you're looking for trouble, I suggest you roll out!" The bartender behind the counter didn't mince her words. Those who could run a bar here usually had strong backgrounds.
But Randy seemed to ignore her, still glaring fiercely at Jin Muchen. "Listen, kid, I know you've been keeping an eye on me these past few days. I don't know what you're up to, but please stay away from me."
Hearing this, Jin Muchen's heart skipped a beat. Damn it, it seemed he wasn't cut out for professional tailing after all. Despite being cautious, he hadn't expected to be discovered by this guy.