North America Gunman Detective

Maybe it was because it was still early, there weren't many vehicles on the road, and there were quite a few cars parked in front of the surrounding houses. It must be a residential area nearby.

Many of the houses were made of wood. Although they varied in style, most were detached with garages and lawns, separated by wooden fences, and several homes flew the Stars and Stripes. Yep, he must have arrived in the United States. Judging by the surroundings, it was definitely not a poor area, but neither was it a rich neighborhood. A rich area would never allow a vagrant like himself to camp out nearby.

There were no tall buildings or towering chimneys around, so it was probably far from the industrial zone. He could safely assume that he was in a middle-class enclave around the city.

As Yang Liansheng walked, he made some basic assessments based on his surroundings. Being in a completely different environment from the one he had lived in for nearly 30 years, he was filled with a sense of insecurity. If he remembered correctly, the social security environment in the United States was not very good. Here, guns were not banned. It would be terrible if someone were to shoot him, having had no such experience in the past twenty-plus years.

The gas station was about 500 to 600 meters from his staying place, just a few minutes' walk. Looking around, the gas station's brand was Chevron, with two rows of four pumps. There were no cars fueling up or people outside. Inside the gas station, there was a car repair shop and a convenience store. He didn't see a sign for restrooms; they must be inside the convenience store. The door of the convenience store had an "open" sign, so he should be able to use the restroom there.

As Yang Liansheng walked, he quietly familiarized himself with the language. His English was fluent, fortunately. His mind was quite agile, and for the moment, he didn't need to translate from Chinese to English before speaking out loud. As a high-school dropout, if he had to learn English all over again, his life would probably be tragic. He might starve soon. Besides English, he could speak Chinese too, though his accent was a bit off and might need some practice to return to the fluency of his previous life.

Yang Liansheng approached the convenience store and pushed the door open. A "ding-ling" sound rang out, and behind the cashier's desk stood a white man with a thick beard, many parts of which had turned white, who was looking up at the TV.

"Hi, may I use the restroom?"

Yang Liansheng greeted, and the white man gestured toward the back corner of the room, without moving his eyes from the TV, probably watching a movie or a TV show.

"Thank you."

Yang Liansheng entered the restroom to take care of his personal needs and then washed his face. He looked in the mirror to see a thin, Chinese young man with messy, short hair, probably a couple of months without a haircut. His appearance matched the photo on his driver's license, no identity problems. Afterward, he changed into a fresh set of clothes from his backpack, which made him look a bit more presentable.

After organizing his backpack, he approached the restroom door but suddenly stopped, lightly leaving the door ajar, watching through a small crack.

A masked individual was pointing a gun at the convenience store clerk, demanding him to take out the money from the cash register. Wow, too thrilling — to encounter a convenience store robbery just after arriving. He had never seen such a scene before.

The robber was black, with a messy head of braids, holding a black handgun. The model was unclear, unfamiliar to him.

Yang Liansheng's legs felt weak. It was his first time witnessing such a scene. Luckily, it seemed he hadn't been noticed, so hiding was probably safe. This was no time to play the hero; it was too dangerous.

The clerk raised his left hand and used his right hand to open the cash drawer, placing the money on the counter. The robber grabbed the cash, stuffed it into his pockets, and still pointing the gun at the clerk, backed toward the door, ran to a motorcycle parked nearby, and sped off.

"Are you okay? Do you need to call the police?" Watching the robber leave, Yang Liansheng slowly opened the door and walked over to the clerk.

"Damn! Of course not, I just got robbed." The clerk spat out a curse and grabbed the phone to dial 911, "I need to report a robbery, someone just robbed my convenience store… 1106 Fair Park Avenue, inside the gas station… It was a young Black man, wearing a brown hoodie and jeans, he had a gun, and rode away north on a motorcycle. It's safe here now. Okay, I'll wait in the store for the police to come."

After hanging up, the clerk looked at Yang Liansheng with a sour face, "Anything else you need?"

"No! No! I'm leaving now, thanks for letting me use the restroom, goodbye."

Yang Liansheng hurriedly pushed open the door and walked out, knowing that the arrival of the police might spell big trouble for him. He hadn't yet learnt about his own life's history and past experiences, and being questioned by the police would definitely lead to issues.

After leaving the gas station, he realized he was only focused on escaping potential trouble and had forgotten to check the map and newspaper at the convenience store; he still hadn't confirmed his location.

"What a scatterbrain, where am I supposed to look now?" He looked around; the area was residential, with a building adorned with a Red Cross about a few hundred meters to the north, likely a hospital, which was the most distinctive building nearby. However, he found it troublesome that he would have to pass the gas station again to reach the hospital. He wasn't sure if the police had arrived yet and running into them could be a major issue.

After some hesitation, Yang Liansheng decided to head to the hospital, where there would probably be more people with whom he could inquire about some things. His departure earlier had been too abrupt; he not only forgot to confirm the area and date, but also to buy water and food. He hadn't eaten since waking up this morning. If the police hadn't arrived when he passed the gas station, he would buy something to eat.

He turned to walk toward the gas station, then heard the sound of sirens; a police car passed by him and entered the gas station. Yang Liansheng glanced at the emblem on the police car door, Plaskey County Police. He wasn't familiar with it, no impression; it probably wasn't one of the fifty-one states of the United States. He decided to look further into it later.

Yang Liansheng lowered his head slightly and continued along the outside of the gas station toward City Center Hospital. However, Murphy's Law doesn't always stay away.

"Hey, stop, Plaskey County Police."

"Crap." Yang Liansheng reluctantly stopped and turned to look at the cop who had just come out of the convenience store.

"Take off your hat." The police officer placed his right hand on his gun holster and gestured with his left hand. Yang Liansheng pulled the hood of his hoodie back, revealing his Asian face, which clearly relieved the officer, who loosened his grip on the gun handle.

"Sorry, man, I just needed to check if you were the robber from earlier. Did you see a Black man riding a motorcycle? Wearing a brown hoodie?"

"Didn't see anything, I'm just passing through. Anything else?"

"OK, nothing else." The officer waved his hand, turned back to the police car, and used the radio to report to headquarters.

Yang Liansheng watched the cop, feeling that there might not be any issues, and directly turned toward the convenience store. Since there was no problem, there was no need to go all the way to the hospital; he might as well search inside the convenience store.