After a night's rest, Zhang Jie had fully recovered, and his mind and body were no longer so tense.
After getting up and washing, Zhang Jie came to the front desk, and Jessica was still sleepy-eyed.
Zhang Jie tapped the front desk twice, and Jessica groggily raised her head. After seeing Zhang Jie's appearance clearly, she became much more alert.
"Checking out."
Jessica subconsciously glanced at the clock on the wall, which showed 7:03.
"You don't have to check out so early. I can extend your room until 2 PM," Jessica mumbled, but Zhang Jie heard her.
"I still have some things to take care of, but thank you for upgrading my room," Zhang Jie smiled. He was always very polite when he spoke.
"Don't thank me, thank Grant. Even after all these years since his death, he can still provide you with some services," Jessica was much more awake now and immediately joked.
She picked up the key she had placed on the table and said to him, "Alright, I'll take it from here."
Zhang Jie raised an eyebrow, then turned and walked towards the door, arriving at his beloved car.
He inspected his beloved car; it was perfectly intact, even the dust had been washed off.
He got in, started the V8 engine, and the roar sounded again, comfortable.
When the car reached the security booth, Zhang Jie stopped and rolled down the window. He pulled a Hamilton-printed bill from his pocket, crumpled it casually, and then flicked it out with his thumb.
Mike had already been woken by the roar of the V8 engine when Zhang Jie started the camaro. When he saw Zhang Jie stop, his eyes twitched.
He watched the man pull a Hamilton from his pocket, crumple it into a ball, and flick it over. He subconsciously reached out and caught it.
The smile on his face was uncontrollable. Great, he worked a night shift and earned 20 dollars.
Then he looked left and right and said to Zhang Jie, "That woman took a picture of your car last night. I think you need to be a little careful from now on."
This was probably a return for Zhang Jie's tip, as he always believed that all benefits must be exchanged to truly belong to you.
Zhang Jie merely raised an eyebrow at the words, then nodded at the Black security guard and stepped on the accelerator, leaving the motel.
"Oh, God, he really is an extremely gentlemanly and charming man, and of course, his car is very cool."
Watching the yellow camaro roar away, Mike couldn't help but say.
As for what would happen next, he didn't care. He had already done what he needed to do.
Driving on the highway, Zhang Jie recalled the Black security guard's words and sneered repeatedly. This world was like this; it didn't matter whether that woman acted unintentionally or intentionally. It was all irrelevant.
If anyone wanted to reason with him, they could talk to his bullets.
After leaving the motel, Zhang Jie didn't drive so fast. After all, they were very, very, very close to Detroit, or rather, this was already the edge of Detroit.
He just drove in slowly, enjoying the scenery along the way.
Tires rolled over the last cracks of the interstate, and Detroit's skyline emerged from the morning mist.
The sun hung diagonally on the glass curtain wall of the General Motors Renaissance Center, gilding the outline of the bankrupt city.
As the used camaro ss exited the I-75 ramp, the dashboard showed the fuel level was only a quarter full.
Kid Rock was singing "All Summer Long" on the radio, his hoarse voice blending with the roar of the V8 engine.
Abandoned factories on both sides of Eight Mile Road looked like skinned giants, with wild vines crawling through their hollow windows.
A Black teenager in a hoodie skateboarded past, his shadow lengthening and shortening on the faded "WE BUY HOUSES CASH" graffiti.
A Chevrolet Suburban with armored steel plates welded to it was stopped at a red light, and a White police officer in the passenger seat was chugging coffee.
The moment the green light turned on, the radio suddenly interrupted with news: "Detroit City Council announced today the termination of the emergency manager's duties..."
The clanging sound of tires rolling over a manhole cover drowned out the second half of the sentence.
Zhang Jie didn't care what happened, but he saw what appeared to be another car in his rearview mirror.
He had seen this car 10 minutes ago; it had disappeared a few times along the way and then reappeared.
"Oh ho ho ~ I'll have more work to do soon, though without commission."
The Chevrolet with the steel plates welded to it was driving slowly ahead, and soon turned into another corner of the street.
And Zhang Jie suddenly stomped on the accelerator.
Boom—smack!
The roar of the V8 engine brought a touch of life to the quiet street, while the several Black men in the old Toyota trailing far behind were yelling and screaming.
"Step on your damn leg faster! Don't lose him! I'm going to get revenge for that shot!"
"He actually dared to shoot and break my finger! Later, I'm going to cut off his hand and shove it up his ass!"
A Black thug was sitting in the passenger seat of the old Toyota; he was the one Zhang Jie had injured yesterday. His right hand was bandaged, and he held a gun in his left hand, his expression fierce.
As for how he knew Zhang Jie's location, it was because he had seen that photo in the chat group yesterday.
Yes, it was the photo Bonnie took in the motel parking lot last night.
For this, he spent 20 dollars to get this information.
He swore he would make this Asian yellow-skinned monkey pay.
His companion, Carmelo, accelerated while saying, "Devent, have you thought this through? That man doesn't look like someone to mess with."
"Shut your stinking mouth! Your mouth is like it's filled with shit, disgusting. Yesterday I was just careless, I didn't dodge!"
Carmelo was very worried, because he had seen it clearly in the car yesterday: that man pulled out his gun and fired as fast as lightning.
And my friend Devent, you are as stupid as a pig now!
And you still insist on getting revenge?
I'll have to stay far away from you guys when the fight starts!
The two Black thugs in the back, however, looked disdainful, especially after hearing what Devent said yesterday. They became even more contemptuous, believing that this guy must have been careless to have his finger shot off.
"Damn yellow-skinned monkey, can he even handle a gun? Don't joke around, their ancestors have only ever used chopsticks," the two Black teenagers in the back seat mocked mercilessly.
Carmelo did not refute, only continued to accelerate.
When you truly face him, you will realize how childish your thoughts are.
Carmelo never wanted to participate in this matter from beginning to end, but there was no choice. They were a small group, and the consequences of him not facing it would be even more severe, so he could only choose to bring the three of them along to chase.
Soon, after driving into an abandoned factory area, the yellow car in front actually stopped.
The three people in the car immediately became excited: "Carmelo, go, hurry up and rush over to block him! Don't damage his car, it's worth a lot of money!"
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