Chapter 6
Chapter 6: Delivery
Late at night.
Wang Yang hooked an arm around Long Ming’s shoulder as they walked toward the curb, grinning as he chatted: “Listen, don’t change your phone number. If you ghost me again, don’t blame me if I start rumors about you.”
Long Ming rolled his eyes and snapped: “Get lost!”
Wang Yang laughed and waved: “Haha, enough joking. I’m heading out!”
Long Ming frowned and said: “You drank. Let me call a driver for you.”
Wang Yang puffed up and shook his head: “A driver for what? Two bottles of beer are like water. I’ll get in the car first,” but halfway through his sentence, his face went blank with confusion.
He stared at his car by the road. All four wheels were gone, and the chassis sat on a stack of bricks.
Wang Yang rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was tipsy. Sadly, reality was harsh. His wheels were actually stolen.
He almost jumped and cursed, face dark: “What the heck, my wheels!”
Long Ming sighed and said helplessly: “I told you it wasn’t safe. I told you to park in the garage, but you wouldn’t listen.”
Wang Yang groaned: “How was I supposed to know the Lower District is this cursed?”
Long Ming shrugged and tried to calm him: “At least it’s only the wheels. Be glad they didn’t strip the engine.”
Wang Yang looked miserable as he asked: “So what do I do now?”
Long Ming said: “I’ll call my neighbor. He’s a mechanic. Maybe he has wheels that fit your car.”
He pulled out his phone and dialed Zhou Hao.
A deep voice picked up quickly: “Long Ming.”
Long Ming asked: “Brother Zhou, do you have any tires for an Aoyue? My friend’s car needs a set.”
Zhou Hao answered: “Lucky you. I just got a batch. How many do you want?”
Long Ming said: “Four!”
Zhou Hao asked: “Where are you? I’ll bring my guys over.”
Long Ming replied: “Haichang West Street!”
Zhou Hao grunted: “Wait there.”
Long Ming said: “Okay,” then hung up.
A few minutes later, an old van pulled up behind Wang Yang’s car. The door slid open. A huge man in a short-sleeved shirt with a hard, fleshy face jumped down with two strong workers.
They popped the rear hatch and hauled out four used tires.
The more Wang Yang looked, the more familiar they seemed. Then it hit him, and he shouted in shock: “Hey, aren’t those my tires?”
Long Ming blinked at that and gave Zhou Hao a strange look, thinking: [No way it’s this coincidental, right?]
Zhou Hao snorted and said: “What do you mean your tires? We bought these.”
Wang Yang snapped back: “That’s nonsense. They’re mine. Give them back or I’ll report you for theft.”
Zhou Hao’s face hardened as he stepped forward with his men: “What did you say?”
Wang Yang flinched and backed up fast: “W-what are you doing?”
Long Ming rubbed his temples and hurried to smooth things over: “Brother Zhou, my friend is being childish. Let’s talk this out.”
Zhou Hao grunted: “Hmph. If it weren’t for your sake, I’d beat him up right now.”
Long Ming quickly followed up: “Thanks, Brother Zhou. But could you give us a better price?”
Zhou Hao said: “Half price. That’s already cheap.”
Long Ming shook his head: “Half is still too high. If I’m not wrong, you probably bought these at twenty percent. How about you sell them to us at thirty percent?”
Zhou Hao frowned, clearly unhappy: “Thirty percent is too low.”
Long Ming lowered his voice: “Brother Zhou, you know the deal. These are basically my bro’s. If we really push this, it could get messy for you too. Why not make a little less this time?”
Zhou Hao hesitated, then sighed: “Fine. For you, thirty percent. Four tires for 1,200.”
Long Ming exhaled in relief and said: “Thanks. Could you help install them? I’ll transfer the money now.”
Zhou Hao nodded: “Alright.”
They grabbed their tools and got to work. In a short while the tires were back on. After taking the payment, Zhou Hao and his men drove off.
Wang Yang, still scowling, turned to Long Ming and complained: “Why did we pay them? They’re probably the same people who stole the wheels.”
Long Ming answered calmly: “I know. But this is the Lower District. Things aren’t like the Upper District. Consider it a lesson.”
In truth, when he first moved to the Lower District, he hit walls everywhere and got scammed more than once. Only after time did he adapt and things improved.
Wang Yang shrugged: “Fine. I’m heading out. As for the money for the tires, I’m not paying you back. I lost them on your turf after all.”
Long Ming waved: “Alright. Drive slow.”
Wang Yang called back: “Bye,” then got in the car and left.
Long Ming stood there watching the car fade from view, then turned and went home.
Two days later.
Long Ming sat at his computer reading everything he could about Civilization Paradise, his brows knit tight. The game’s hype had exploded. People online were begging to buy headsets. A basic headset had been bid up to 100,000, five times the original price, and even then many couldn’t get one because the first wave was limited. He also saw comments saying the game wasn’t only run by Mountain City. Other shelter cities had opened the same game too. That made him uneasy: [When did the shelter cities start getting along? Since when would they run the same game together?]
He let the thought go. The server opened tomorrow, and Wang Yang still hadn’t sent any news.
The more he waited, the more anxious he felt. Starting late would put him at a disadvantage.
Buzz buzz.
His phone vibrated. The screen flashed: “The jerk” calling.
Long Ming picked up at once and asked, nervous: “Wang Yang, well? Did you get one?”
Silence. No reply for several seconds.
Long Ming urged him: “What’s going on? Say something.”
Wang Yang sighed and said: “Sorry, bro. The game is too hot. I just couldn’t buy it.”
Long Ming kept his voice steady: “I get it. Then just transfer my money back.”
Wang Yang said in a sly tone: “Sorry. No money left.”
Long Ming warned him: “Hey, don’t joke like that. That’s my lifeline.”
He still didn’t truly doubt Wang Yang. [I know what he’s like. He wouldn’t swallow my cash.]
Wang Yang chuckled and said: “Open your door. A courier will bring you a package soon.”
Long Ming was about to ask more when someone knocked.
Knock knock.
Keeping the call on, he walked over and opened the door.
A young man in a Swift Express uniform stood there, holding a tightly wrapped parcel. He asked: “Are you Mr. Long Ming?”
Long Ming nodded: “Yes.”
The courier said: “Here’s your package. Please sign.”
Long Ming said: “Thanks,” signed his name, took the parcel, and went back inside.
Wang Yang asked cheerfully through the phone: “Got it?”
Long Ming answered: “Yeah. But didn’t you say you couldn’t buy it?”
Wang Yang said: “Right. I couldn’t. But that doesn’t mean others couldn’t. I asked someone to help.”
Long Ming whistled: “Your connections are wild.”
Wang Yang laughed: “Not my connections. Yours.”
Long Ming blinked: “Huh? What do you mean? What happened?”
Wang Yang cut him off: “Forget it. I’m busy. Hanging up now.”
Long Ming hurried to say: “At least explain it clearly!” but the kid went quiet and then ended the call. The busy tone beeped in his ear.
He sighed: “[That guy is being annoying again, refusing to explain anything. Whatever. I’ll ask him later.]”
He put the phone away, grabbed the parcel, and headed to the bedroom.
His rental was about sixty square meters: one bedroom, one living room, one kitchen, and one bathroom. He spent most of his time in the bedroom; the living room was where he piled random stuff.
He reached the bedroom, found a knife, carefully opened the box, and took out a well-packaged black helmet.