He pulled another stack of bills from his pocket and tossed it to the Black man in front of him.
Then he kept taking out more:
Ten thousand, twenty thousand. Fifty thousand, one hundred thousand.
By the time Wu Heng pulled out the fifteenth stack of U.S. dollars, the two Black men before him had gone from utterly crazed to afraid, then completely terrified!
How could the pockets of this white man in a trench coat possibly hold so much money?
His pockets were clearly flat, yet the money he had taken out had already piled up in his arms.
"Fuck, stop, quit taking it out! That's enough, enough!" one of the Black men finally snapped and cursed.
"Nicks, you nigger, what the hell are you doing? He obviously has more...!" The other Black man's eyes reddened with desperation.
"Kurt, you idiot!"
The Black man named Nicks lowered his head, signaling for Kurt to look at the money in his arms. What an enormous stack it was.
Only then did Kurt come to his senses, fear driving the greed from his mind.
The man in front of him clearly had flat pockets. Just moments ago, Kurt had been thinking that if the man did not even have a hundred dollars, he would have to leave his socks behind too.
"Do you still want more?" Wu Heng looked at Kurt.
"N-No more. You can go. Don't come here again."
Kurt swallowed the phlegm lodged in his throat. He and Nicks instinctively stepped back, turning slightly sideways, ready to run at any moment.
Yet he still said weakly, "This is a Black neighborhood. White people get robbed here!"
As if trying to bolster his own courage, he repeated, "It's always been like this over the years. It's never changed."
"These are the