What Urban Legend? This White Marble Statue Could Sell for Eighty or a Hundred Thousand, Right?

These awful roads in the New York suburbs are practically the hidden major shareholders of orthopedic hospitals; they're so bumpy they feel like your internal organs are shifting.

The road surface was full of potholes and twists.

The Slug's secondhand Ford van, with its peeling paint and rattling hood, looked just like an old man having an asthma attack.

The chassis scraped against the gravel, sending sparks flying, and dragged Sing Sing along for almost half the night.

The surrounding streetscape became increasingly desolate, with all the high-rise buildings gone.

Both sides of the road were lined with withered tree branches.

This wasn't a pointless, aimless drive; Stryker's men were right behind their car.

Sing Sing rubbed his back, which was numb from the bumpy ride, and was wondering whether he should ask the Slug to pull over so he could give those bastards a full set of physical acupuncture treatments when something strange happened.

The armored vehicle behind us slammed on its brakes, its headlights shining brightly onto a moss-covered, dilapidated boundary marker by the roadside.

Several faded words were engraved on it: Westchester County.

Those guys who were just swaggering around and wanted to blast Sing Sing to smithereens turned tail and disappeared in a flash.

The Slug also stepped on the brakes.

Sing Sing pushed open the car door, jumped out, and looked around.

A question popped into my head, "What's going on? Why are these bastards running away? Are they out of gas?"

He glanced down at his impeccably tailored black suit, stroking his chin as he pondered, "Or perhaps, they were intimidated by my powerful aura?"

"I knew it! To subdue the enemy without fighting is the highest form of skill, haha!"

Slug poked its head out of the car window. "Brother Zhou, wake up! They weren't scared away by you, they're afraid of this place!"

Sing Sing, striking a pose reminiscent of a grandmaster, turned pale upon hearing this, glaring at him. "Bullshit! Wasn't my strike just now powerful enough? I cleaved an SUV in two! If that were made into a short video, I'd gain at least 100,000 followers!"

The Slug pointed to the moss-covered boundary marker by the roadside.

"This is Westchester County, dude. It's an urban legend, isn't it? That bald, disabled Mutants school that used to run was right here!"

"I heard that a group of dangerous Mutants live inside, and even the army doesn't dare to come here and cause trouble!"

Sing Sing touched his chin.

"A bald, disabled man, selling crutches or wheelchairs?"

"Oh my god, my brother! It's X-Men! It's X-Men!"

"Oh, you mean Professor X? Hey, does that mean we can recruit new people again?"

What recruitment nonsense! Let's run!

The Slug was almost in tears. As soon as Sing Sing Chow opened the car door and sat down, he stepped on the gas pedal and slammed the steering wheel, trying to turn around and run away.

"Pfft, cough cough cough... bang."

The van jolted and then stalled completely, emitting a puff of black smoke from its exhaust pipe.

The Slug slammed its hand on the steering wheel, wailing desperately, "Out of gas! I just filled up with twenty yuan worth of gas yesterday!"

"You've driven across most of New York on a mere twenty dollars' worth of gas? Do you think this is a shared bike? Get off!"

Unfortunately, the car broke down.

The two could only shuffle forward along the dark highway, one step at a time.

A night breeze blew, Slug shivered from the cold, not daring to stumble even a step.

Another hour or so passed, and the road ahead was covered by a large patch of weeds. A tall iron fence blocked the way.

In the very center of the fence is a large, rusty iron gate.

A metal plaque was welded onto the iron gate, inside which was a huge X.

He stepped forward and flicked his fingers twice on the iron gate, listening for the Sing Sing.

"Wow, it's made of pure steel!"

"This thickness, this weight... if we took this apart and took it to a scrap yard, how much would it cost per pound?"

Looking through the iron gate, there was a large estate. The glass was broken in many places, the weeds were almost as tall as a person, and the vines covered the walls of the main building.

Judging from the spacious main building and the vast area it occupies, even a blind person could see how grand this place used to be.

"Slug, this manor is ownerless now?"

The Slug was already hiding behind a dead tree a few meters away. "It's been abandoned for a long time. I heard there was a major incident a few years ago; people inside either died or escaped. This place is really eerie now!"

"Brother Zhou, let's hurry up and leave. I heard that at night, the wheelchair inside rolls around in the corridor by itself, and red lasers are shooting everywhere..."

"I'd rather go back and photosynthesize with those people in a vegetative state than stay here!"

"Unclaimed? Great! Unclaimed items belong to whoever finds them. According to our local custom, that's called a windfall!"

The door hinges made a screeching sound as Old Zhou grabbed the large iron door with both hands and pushed it hard.

The sharp, piercing sound echoed in the silent night, sending chills down the spines of those who heard it.

"Brother, don't be reckless! There's a real ghost in there!"

Sing Sing sneered, "Ghosts? Are ghosts any scarier than Wang Pangzi docks my performance bonus?"

"If it dares to come out, I'll make it carry this iron gate to my scrap metal yard. For every hour it misses a day of work, I'll deduct its underhanded money!"

He swaggered through the iron gate.

Sing Sing stepped into this once-famous School for Gifted Youngsters.

The pond was full of rotten leaves, and the fountain in the yard had long since dried up.

The head was missing, and a stone sculpture next to it lay on the ground.

Sing Sing strolled around, estimating the value of the items.

"What material is this? It looks like white marble. It's a pity it's missing a piece, otherwise I could have fooled Wenxi into buying it as an antique for research, and easily quoted him 80,000 or 100,000..."

"This lawn is huge! Just mow it down and you can turn it into an open-air food stall. Selling beer and crayfish in the summer would be incredibly popular. Selling a plate of crayfish for $88 isn't unreasonable, is it?"

As I walked up to the steps of the main building, I looked up at the magnificent structure.

"If you build a farmhouse resort on this development, with a dozen round tables in the lobby on the first floor, KTV rooms on the second floor, and a bathhouse on the third floor offering full-service massages... with this location and this green space, you could easily make ten or twenty thousand a day!"

Sing Sing became more and more excited as he calculated, feeling that he would soon become a CEO, marry a beautiful and wealthy woman, and reach the pinnacle of his life.

They'd even come up with a name for the business: Xingxing Farmhouse. They were just thinking about whether to submit a report to Director Wang to apply for development rights for the land.

Click.

A very faint, strange sound came from the half-closed oak door on the first floor of the main building.

Something must have stepped on and broken the glass shards on the ground.

A night breeze blew by, and the half-broken window rattled loudly.

Sing Sing squinted, holding the knife upside down in his right hand, and casually unbuttoned his suit jacket with his left. He then shouted at the top of his lungs into the dark doorway.

"Which idiot in there is playing tricks on you? Get out here right now!"

"The neighborhood committee is checking temporary residence permits. Those without permits need to pay the fine themselves—by scanning a QR code or paying cash!"