Old Wolf's car constantly carried all kinds of passengers, but honestly, though they looked glamorous, most of them were ordinary people stuck somewhere between success and failure.
After all, what truly wealthy person would bother renting a stretched Chevrolet on an app, one that only looked good but was actually worth very little?
This group of people had extremely demanding requirements. Some even wanted Old Wolf to drive at a constant speed through the armed soldiers standing guard along the border.
Meanwhile, they shouted slogans from inside the car.
High demands would have been one thing, but their tips were pitifully small. That was what truly dissatisfied Old Wolf.
Old Wolf no longer cared how customers treated him. He only wanted to make money, good money.
Enough money to buy medicine, then buy a goddamn boat, so he and his old friend could die together on that romantic sea!
But...
Standing beside the cemetery and hiding beneath a tree to barely shelter himself from the downpour.
Old Wolf waited for his customer to leave the funeral while carefully calculating how much money he had made today.
He had drunk a little too much that evening, and killing people had also wasted some time.
He had only taken seventeen fares tonight, earning around eleven dollars per trip on average.
Thirty-five had already been spent. He did not need gas for the time being, and he still had to set aside around eighty to buy medicine.
So, today he could save...
Seventy-two dollars...
Sigh!
At that thought, Old Wolf violently shook his rain-soaked head.
Seventy a day meant only seven thousand in a hundred days. At this rate, how many years would it take to save enough to buy that boat?
He had already made arrangements with the shipyard. There were only