Chapter 783

Waking up again the next morning, Bruce knew that he had to find a job today. The 20 dollars in his hand didn't have much left. If this continued, he would really go hungry.

But was it easy to find a job? It was very far from the pier here, so going to be a porter definitely wouldn't work. But going to be a gang thug required a recommendation letter. The gang must be sure that you are trustworthy before they will recruit you. They won't recruit someone of unknown origin.

If you are the son of a gang member, your parents might introduce you to work in this gang, or they might introduce you to another gang a few streets away that doesn't have a conflict of interest with the gang they are currently in.

And gangs further away also accept such members. Even if some gangs are short of people, they will go to gangs that are a bit further away to ask if there are good next generations there.

But where would Bruce Wei En have a gang background? Without an acquaintance to introduce him, he couldn't even get into a gang.

Without becoming a formal member of a gang, one could also become an external member. There are many people like this, and not every waiter and security guard in every bar is a formal member of a gang; many just work for the gang.

Bruce thought about being a security guard. After all, his physique had advantages, and his fighting skills were very strong. But unfortunately, security guards in the East District didn't need any fighting skills; they needed a sharp eye.

You must be able to determine within three seconds of observation whether the other party is a normal guest, a thief, someone here to smash the place, or a spy for another gang. But Bruce had only been here for two days, and the only thing he could distinguish was the other party's gender.

Being a security guard didn't work, so being a waiter should be fine, right? Bruce did find a similar job, working as a waiter in a nightclub. Of course, it wasn't the kind that served plates, just cleaning and sweeping.

However, Bruce had a very handsome face, which always led to situations he couldn't accept. He worked there for three days and met seven gang bosses who wanted to keep him, six of whom were men.

Covering his face didn't work either. Guests would think he was an explosion fanatic carrying a bomb, which would affect the nightclub's business. Finally, the nightclub owner wanted to introduce him to the strip club opposite. Bruce could only resign from this job.

If you want to rely on your face to eat, it's not impossible. Being a greeter in front of a mansion is the best.

Generally speaking, a mansion covered by a big gang basically no one dares to mess around. But the problem is, the leaders of the big gangs all know Bruce Wei En. As soon as he wanted to go in, he was taken to the top-floor office by two greeters, treated with good tea and wine. Bruce drank a stomach full of expensive wine and went back.

Doing this kind of bottom-level work, it wouldn't work, so being a technical worker should be fine, right? Now gangs are most short of technical workers. Bruce didn't intend to do any very difficult work because that would deviate from the original intention. After all, the knowledge he possessed also relied on his superior educational conditions, and ordinary people in the East District definitely didn't have such conditions.

The position Bruce aimed at was a truck driver. After all, driving wasn't a very difficult technical job. Most children in the East District, when they reached a certain age, would be taught to drive by their elders or small leaders in the gang. Even if they didn't transport goods specifically, it was fine to occasionally replace a driver to run errands.

Since the gang was indeed short of people, Bruce said he could drive, and they immediately assigned him a truck, making him responsible for cargo transportation from the city center to the pier.

This was not difficult at all. A year ago, a viaduct was opened from the city center to the pier. After entering the bridge from the entrance and driving for less than three minutes after getting off the bridge, you could reach the distribution point at the pier.

Bruce thought, what kind of moths could come out of such a job? A total of less than 20 kilometers of road for cargo transportation in the city, and he didn't have to worry about moving or unloading goods. The gang also provided lunch. This should be stable, right?

But facts proved that he still thought too simply. Driving a truck was really difficult, and things other than driving were even more difficult.

First of all, this truck wasn't employed by one gang. Generally, gangs in an area would use trucks in this area, and the styles of gangs were different, so they must be carefully identified.

Some gangs liked to overload, holding a gun to your head to make you pull more goods, completely ignoring whether you could pass the inspection. Some gangs liked to smuggle contraband. When they were checked at the distribution point, the truck driver would also get into trouble.

Moreover, if you weren't familiar with the people at the distribution point, you couldn't find a good position to queue for unloading, and no one would help you direct the reversing, so the efficiency would be very slow.

Others arrived at the distribution point, cut the queue casually, and then could run a second trip. Bruce held the steering wheel outside, waiting for two hours.

Moreover, seeing that he was young and had a strange face, many porters liked to play tricks, knocking on the car window to extort money. If you didn't give money, you could wait for the goods you were transporting to be bumped here and there, and then be looked for trouble by the gang when you went back.

In addition, Cat Getan's traffic situation had improved, but not completely. In most cases, once a traffic conflict occurred, a shotgun extending from the car window was a common occurrence. Bruce had just earned a little money and had to take it out to buy a gun and a riot shield.

If you want to park the truck at the distribution point overnight, locking the fuel tank is useless. Either leave someone to guard it, or you have to ask an acquaintance to watch it. And if you want to have an acquaintance, you have to spend money to treat them to dinner and build a relationship. This is the same in any country.

Bruce did this kind of work for a week, and his savings successfully went from the original ten-plus dollars to a few dollars. If it weren't for the gang providing lunch, he might really have come here for passive weight loss.

Working at the bottom is like this. If you don't enter the industry, you will lose money no matter how much you do, and it's the same no matter how long you do it. If you want to enter the industry, besides spending time and energy, you must lower your posture, ask for advice to integrate into the industry's circle, do some behaviors you might have felt very annoying before, and become the person you hated very much before.

The four words "forced by livelihood" are really too heavy. No one knows what kind of heavy burden the person who says these four words is under.

In these days, Bruce found that what was more terrible than intense criminal conflict was the calm, long, endless, poverty.

Gothamites are not poor, at least they have money compared to other cities. However, this kind of life that consumes heart and energy day after day has exhausted all their energy, leaving them no time to think, chronic death.

When Batman stood high on the top of the building and looked at all this, he didn't understand why these people didn't have the strength or courage to break free from this kind of life.

But when he was already deeply involved in it, he found that in the rainy night of Cat Getan, the fire ignited by the anger of revenge couldn't even light a cigarette.

In these less than two weeks, Bruce raised the thought of retreating for the first time. He felt that he had collected enough materials, but there was a thought in his heart telling him that this was far from enough, and he hadn't touched the bottom yet.

So, he could only set sail again, and he didn't intend to change jobs anymore because he knew that ordinary people here didn't have so much cost of making mistakes. They didn't have such a strong body to go hungry for a week, and didn't have such strong fighting skills to run away when they were looked for trouble by the gang.

In all the suffering Bruce experienced, at some node, ordinary people could only write a word in a corner where no one was—accepting fate.

Just one day, Bruce was driving again, got on the viaduct, and when he was stuck in traffic, he turned his head and saw a familiar face.

The driver next to him had a pale face, wearing red lipstick, and was biting a piece of bread with a bloody mouth. Bruce hurriedly rolled up the car window, but the driver opposite had already turned his head.

Seeing Bruce sitting in the driver's seat of the truck, Joker Jack also froze. The bread in his mouth suddenly didn't taste good. He took the section of bread that hadn't been bitten off from his mouth, and it even brought out some residue.

He lowered his head, picked up the residue and threw it into his mouth, rolled down the car window, and desperately stretched out his hand to hook Bruce's car window.

Bruce turned the steering wheel and wanted to hide, but now he was stuck in traffic, where was there space to hide? Jack drilled out of his car window, one hand grabbing the edge of the truck's window, and the other knocking on Bruce's glass.

Finding that he couldn't knock open the glass, Jack drilled back into his truck, rummaged back and forth in his seat, and then took out a big bomb.

Bruce immediately rolled down the car window and said, "Put that thing down! I warn you, this batch of goods is very important, it's an urgent order, it must be delivered within two hours. If you blow up the bridge, I'll throw you down from here!"

Jack, holding the bomb, froze again. He dug his ears and said, "What did you say?"

"I said! If you! Dare to blow up the bridge! I will..."

"No, I said the previous sentence!" Jack shouted at him.

Bruce paused and said, "This batch of goods is very important, it's an urgent order!"

Jack pulled the corners of his mouth down hard. He stared at Bruce with gloomy eyes and said, "Why are you here? Why are you driving a truck? Why aren't you standing on the roof of Wei En Tower blowing the wind?"

Bruce didn't want to answer him. Just as he wanted to roll up the window, Jack drilled out of his own window again, then put his hand on the window, and even stretched his head into Bruce's truck.

Bruce rummaged back and forth in his seat and took out a mineral water bottle, smashing it hard on Jack's head, but he didn't retreat at all, but grabbed Bruce's arm and asked him, "Damn it, why are you here? Answer me, answer me Batman, are you crazy?!"

Bruce took a deep breath and looked at the other window. The traffic jam in front was still deadlocked. The car moved forward at a frequency of once every five minutes. If there were no accidents, it would definitely not be able to get off the bridge within half an hour.

So he looked at Jack and said, "I'm driving a truck because I want to earn money, because I'm a human, I have to eat!"

Jack froze for a moment, then suddenly burst into a series of loud laughs. He opened his mouth and looked at Bruce, asking, "What did you say? Say it again, this is really the funniest joke I've heard this year!"

"I said, I'm a human, I have to eat. How can I eat without money?"

Jack laughed loudly again, constantly patting the car window glass until he laughed to tears, and then looked at Bruce with tearful eyes and said:

"How can I eat without money? Hahahahahaha... Hahahahahaha!

That's right! How can I eat without money?"