Daily life of an American TV drama agent

"Because this is one of the biggest drug forces in Los Angeles. Look, the black cashier at the counter over there looks harmless. You would never guess that he is from Los Angeles..."

While Ron was telling the story, Uncle Fried Chicken actually brought the meal that Ron ordered over. With Ron's previous foreshadowing, Ian's muscles all over his body collapsed in nervousness, but Ron was still not nervous at all. He continued to talk with emotion:

"No, it should be the largest methamphetamine manufacturer and supplier in the United States. His products are sold in almost every state in the United States and are well received by hippies."

"Thanks for the compliment." Uncle Fried Chicken put down the food Ron ordered, as if he didn't listen to what he said.

"You're welcome, you deserve such an evaluation. Although it may not be the time yet, believe me, sooner or later I will throw you into prison."

"As you wish, Ron, but please don't forget that I have been waiting for the opportunity to kill you." Fried Chicken Uncle greeted with a very cordial smile on his face: "Do you need any other services? Sir .”

"no thank you."

Fried Chicken Uncle didn't talk much, just like a normal restaurant manager, he left their seats, while Ian was already slumped on the chair, covered in sweat, breathing heavily.

At first, when Ron introduced Uncle Fried Chicken in this way, he didn't believe it, but just when Uncle Fried Chicken said that he wanted to kill Ron, the murderous aura that seemed to be real came to his face, and Ian was like Like any animal that encounters a natural enemy, it freezes there, unable to even move a finger.

It wasn't until he was gone that the body resumed action.

Ian grew up in the most chaotic slums in Los Angeles. He thought he had seen enough evil people, but it was not until just now that he discovered that the so-called big shots he thought were in front of Uncle Fried Chicken looked like they were wearing clothes. It’s just as ridiculous as a kid running around in adult clothes.

"He... you... why are you..." After a long time, Ian finally burst out a few incoherent words from his trembling lips. Ron, who was sitting opposite him, was not only unaffected, but actually ate... With relish.

"You want to ask me why I can still eat it without fear of being poisoned, right?"

Ian nodded.

"Because he doesn't have the need at all," Ron shrugged and said easily: "Just like I know his identity now but can't kill him, he has nothing to do with me and can only passively accept my monthly payment every quarter. Tax him.

As incredible as it sounds, from another perspective, we are even in a codependent relationship. "

"How is this possible?! Aren't the police and drug dealers determined to die?!" Ian opened his mouth in surprise.

"Listen to me!" Ron put away his initial cynicism, and his attitude suddenly became serious: "This is the first lesson I will teach you, rookie."

"This world is never a black and white world, and I think you who grew up in the slums should understand this very well, just like the guy just now.

On the one hand, he needs me to crack down on other drug dealers, instead of constantly emerging new competitors, so that he can maintain the greatest advantage and firmly control the methamphetamine business.

But on the other hand, I also need to deal with a guy who is smart enough. I can kill him, but the chaos in the underworld caused by killing him will actually cause greater harm to the city. Do you understand? "

"If you can't figure this out, you'd better find another job as soon as possible, otherwise you will be shot to death on the street sooner or later."

Ron's words were very realistic, but they were correct. She even had a darker part that she didn't mention, which was that the backer behind Uncle Fried Chicken was the CIA, a presence that even Ron could do nothing about.

Now, the delicate situation between Ron and Uncle Fried Chicken is actually the result of the compromise between the two forces.

As long as the balance of power is broken one day, whether it is Uncle Fried Chicken or Ron, they will find a way to kill each other as soon as possible.

It is precisely for this reason that Ron will continue to expand his power. Judging from the current situation, if a war breaks out, Ron believes that his side has a greater chance of winning.

Ian swallowed hard and nodded. Ron finally showed a satisfied expression and pushed the plate in front of Ian.

"Come on, try this fried chicken. Their food is really good. You can come here more often when you patrol. Eat quickly and I'll take you around the streets."

…

The rookie's first lesson on Ian's side went relatively smoothly, but on the other side, Jack, who graduated from the same police academy as him, encountered some troubles.

"Good morning, sir."

Jack walked into the restaurant and greeted the black chief who was sitting in his seat and reading a newspaper in a somewhat reserved manner.

The waiter handed over the menu, and Jack Union waved his hand to indicate that he didn't need it.

"Let's have breakfast before we do business. I'll treat you." The black officer continued to read the newspaper without raising his head.

"Thank you, I've eaten."

"Okay, whatever you want." The black officer did not force himself to continue reading the newspaper without saying a word, and the situation suddenly reached a deadlock.

Jack looked around awkwardly, and finally couldn't help but break the silence first, and said, "It looks good here."

The black officer lowered the newspaper and stared directly at Jack from behind his glasses: "I want to read the newspaper, okay?"

"Okay, then I'd better eat something first." Jack raised his hand and planned to call the waiter over, but she was rejected by the black police officer again.

"No, you've missed your chance. Now please be quiet and let me read the paper."

The black police officer's eyes were sharp, like a wild beast ready to devour someone, and Jack was all excited.

"Okay, sir."

After another ten minutes of silence, Jack once again tried to open up the conversation: "It's nice not to have to sit in a police car that's like an oven."

The black officer finally smiled, revealing his sharp white teeth that were in sharp contrast to his skin color, and then made a very nonsensical request: "Tell me a story."

"You want to listen to my story?" Jack was a little surprised, but fortunately he was ready to introduce himself.

"No, it's about telling another story. If you don't want to tell it, just shut up and let me read the newspaper, or you can tell me the story."

"I can't tell stories."

"Okay, let me tell you." The black officer put away the newspaper: "This is a newspaper. Ninety percent of it is nonsense, but it is very entertaining. I read the newspaper just to entertain you. You are always there. If you annoy me, then it’s up to you to make me happy and tell me a story, right now, hurry up!”