"Hey man, you're finally back. I've been waiting for you all morning. What? You interested in what I said yesterday?"
As Jiang Hai's two F-750s pulled into the town again the next day and parked in the lot, a grinning Black man approached them from a distance.
It was the same man who had sold the Baimao to Jiang Hai the day before. He clearly saw potential in this line of business. Under his watchful gaze, Jiang Hai and the others stepped out of the truck.
There were six people in the group today. In addition to Robbins Garcia and Philemon Turner, who had come yesterday, Jiang Hai also brought along Azarina Vicarborio, Bell Lester, and Connorson Peters.
With these three by his side, Jiang Hai felt confident in his safety—unless, of course, the U.S. military decided to intervene, which seemed unlikely.
"Hey, Patton, now's livestock trading time. Don't stir up trouble for me."
As Jiang Hai's group exited the vehicle, the old man who managed the parking lot walked over and addressed the Black man.
Apparently, Patton was a familiar figure around here—and not for good reasons. The old man's warning made that pretty clear. Patton, hearing it, scowled in annoyance.
"Hey, old man, if I were you, I'd take advantage of your uncle Patton being in a good mood, shove your wrinkled, ugly mug into your backside, and roll yourself into that corner over there."
Patton's tone was far less friendly now, resembling his attitude from the night before when he'd first approached Jiang Hai. To him, Jiang Hai and his entourage were walking dollar signs—worth flattering. The old man? Not so much.
"You..."
The old man's face turned grim at the insult, but he didn't dare argue. He knew what kind of troublemaker Patton was and that confronting him would only make things worse.
"Sir, thank you for the warning. Here's the parking fee."
At that moment, Jiang Hai stepped forward and slipped a Franklin into the old man's hand. Then he added, "I actually am interested in what he said."
Hearing that Jiang Hai wasn't offended by Patton's antics, the old man just sighed, shrugged, and turned to leave. Patton returned, flashing a wide grin.
"I knew you were a good guy. Come on, I'll show you the goods."
He reached out as if to lead Jiang Hai by the arm, but Connorson, standing behind Jiang Hai, suddenly stepped forward. At over two meters tall, he completely blocked Patton's path. Connorson might not be the brightest, but he understood one thing: strangers couldn't lay a hand on Jiang Hai.
"Don't worry—he's a friend of mine. You don't mind a few extra people tagging along, do you?"
Jiang Hai smiled, stepping in to diffuse the tension. Patton glanced up at Connorson and gave a nervous chuckle.
"No problem, no problem..."
"Boss, I'm heading off to pick out the stud cattle. Let's meet back here at 11:30."
Robbins Garcia spoke up. Unlike Jiang Hai, who was here for the "special goods," Robbins was here on more legitimate business.
"Alright, stay sharp."
Jiang Hai handed him a signed checkbook. All Robbins had to do was fill in the amount and present it at the bank, which would then call Jiang Hai for confirmation.
Jiang Hai trusted him, but he wasn't reckless with money. After all, he wasn't a saint—his money was his money. No one got to spend it without his say-so.
"Got it," Robbins nodded, then turned and headed toward the bull market. With him gone, Patton led the rest of the group—Jiang Hai, Philemon, Azarina, Connorson, and Bell—toward the outskirts of town.
They soon left the main street behind and walked toward the edge of the settlement.
As they approached the Appalachian foothills, both Bell and Azarina grew visibly tense. This wasn't a good area.
They were now in the buffer zone between the town and the Appalachian Mountains. Before them stood several large warehouses backed up against the mountains, with open grasslands on either side and a road nearby.
It was an ideal place to hide—and to run.
Though the poachers claimed their wares weren't protected under U.S. law, legality was a murky thing. Take the Greenland seal, for example. In Canada, hunting it is illegal and punishable by law. But if someone brought one across the border into the U.S., technically they weren't breaking American laws—because the Greenland seal isn't native to most of the U.S. and isn't mentioned in U.S. environmental regulations.
Still, just because something wasn't technically illegal didn't mean they were safe. Politics between countries could get messy. Authorities might arrest them for other reasons if they had an agenda.
So, caution was warranted—especially because who knew what else these people might be smuggling? Legal animals might just be the cover.
Seeing the others slow down, Jiang Hai adjusted his pace. Connorson and Philemon followed suit, flanking him closely.
"We're almost there," Patton said cheerfully, misunderstanding their hesitation for fatigue. He slowed down to match their pace.
Despite the tension, it wasn't far to the warehouses. Soon they arrived at a large, closed iron gate. Jiang Hai and his team exchanged glances. These people were definitely operating in the shadows.
Patton approached the gate and knocked in a rhythmic pattern. A small window slid open, revealing the face of a white man. He eyed Patton, then scrutinized the group behind him.
"Relax, they're buyers. He owns a manor," Patton said with a grin.
The man closed the window, and a moment later, the gate creaked open. Patton slipped inside first.
As Jiang Hai moved to follow, Bell tugged his arm.
"Close your eyes before going in," he whispered urgently.
Though confused, Jiang Hai obeyed. Only after stepping into the warehouse did he open them—and immediately understood.
The lighting inside was much dimmer than outside. Had he kept his eyes open, he would've been temporarily blinded by the transition. This was what Bell had warned him about.
Light adjustment takes time. That moment of darkness—or blinding white, if the lighting is reversed—can be disorienting. Bell's advice had saved him a few crucial seconds of vulnerability.
As his eyes adjusted, Jiang Hai surveyed the warehouse.
More than a dozen men were lounging near the entrance. Though they looked relaxed, their positions were strategic. If a gunfight broke out, their placement would allow them to create a tight net of overlapping firepower.
These weren't just hobbyist poachers. These were trained, tactical men.
Unfortunately for them, Jiang Hai's crew wasn't weak either.
"This way..." Patton gestured, unbothered by the tense atmosphere.
In their line of work, trust was a luxury. He was used to the wary glares. But he also seemed genuinely intent on showing Jiang Hai the goods.
Jiang Hai nodded and followed, alert but calm.
After a few minutes of weaving through the warehouse, they reached another door. Patton opened it, revealing a second warehouse.
Unlike the first, this one was brightly lit. Business was done here—and buyers needed to see the merchandise clearly.
As Jiang Hai stepped in, his jaw dropped involuntarily.
What he saw took his breath away.