At a petrol station off the road outside Compton.

The scimitar stepped off the Harley-Davidson, brushed the long wind-blown hair, and swayed to the side of the road. Now, his profession is a "scavenger", and his job is to help people solve the troublesome things that "can't be known to others".

After a long moment, the scimitar raised his arm and looked at his watch, which had timed out, which made him a little unhappy, he hated people who were late.

Just as the scimitar was impatient, a Mercedes-Benz sedan appeared on the road and drove quickly towards the gas station.

He stared at the Mercedes Benz, wondering if it would be his employer.

After a few moments, the Mercedes sedan began to slow down and came to a smooth stop in front of the scimitar.

From the slowly lowered window, the scimitar saw a middle-aged white man in his 50s, with gray hair, dressed in a black suit, with a large back and meticulous combing, and a well-trimmed mustache that stretched to the chin.

The middle-aged white man tilted his head to look at the scimitar and said:

"Get in the car."

Cutlass glanced at him, then left and right before pulling the car door open and getting into the car.

The middle-aged white man smiled and pressed the window button, and the whole car became quiet, and only a slight engine sound could be heard.

"Hello, I'm Michael Bentz."

The middle-aged white man turned around and reached out in front of the scimitar.

"Hello Mr. Bentz."

The scimitar shook his hand, then called out his name, "I'm the scimitar." ”

Michael smiled slightly, nodded, and said:

"The introducer said you were one of the best scavengers in the piece. ”

"That's just an exaggeration."

Machete shook his head, "Actually, I'm just doing a small job to barely support my family. ”

"Oh?"

Michael smiled and asked, "Can you ask what kind of small jobs they do?" ”

The scimitar grinned and replied:

"For example...... Gardening 70 pieces a day, repairing 100 roofs, and cleaning 125 sewers. ”

"Understood."

Michael squinted his eyes and asked, "So did you kill anyone?" ”

The scimitar slowly turned his head, looked at him silently, took a deep breath, and then replied:

"I'm sorry, I'm not a killer."

"Haha......"

Michael hurriedly waved his hand, "Don't mind, it was just a joke." ”

"Really?"

The scimitar stared at him with a calm face.

"Of course."

Michael smiled and said, "It's not a good place to talk, let's change places." ”

"Yes."

The scimitar was about to push open the door and get out of the car to ride the motorcycle, but was stopped by Michael.

He said:

"I'll have someone tow your Harley-Davidson motorcycle, don't worry."

Machete looked at him and nodded.

The corners of Michael's mouth hooked up and he smiled:

"Let's go."

With that, he drove onto the highway in a Mercedes sedan.

Soon, the Mercedes sedan stopped at an estate not far from the town of Compton.

Get off the car, the scimitar looked around, this manor covers an area of not small, there are flower beds, fountains in the square in front of the door, the whole villa is three stories high, it is a typical American villa structure, the appearance is simple and atmospheric, it is very classy.

At this time, the scimitar finally remembered who this Michael Benz was, he should be the president of Michael & Company, a large real estate developer in Compton Town.

Following Michael into the villa, through the palatial corridors, they came to the study on the first floor.

Michael took a bottle of Rémy Martin from the nearby wine cabinet and poured a glass for each of the cutlass and him.

Scimitar took the wine glass, sat on the sofa in the study reception area, and casually placed the wine glass on the coffee table in front of him.

Michael took out a car key from his desk drawer, walked up to the cutlass, threw the key on the coffee table, and said:

"I need you to help me get a car to Las Vegas."

Machete asked:

"What's in the car?"

"Don't worry."

Michael laughed, "It's not a drug, it's just a bag." ”

"Size?"

Machete pulled out a notepad and pencil from his jacket pocket, "Please give me a specific number." ”

"1 meter long and half a meter wide."

"Weight?"

The cutlass continued to ask as he took notes.

"50 kilograms."

"Destination?"

"Bellagio Hotel."

The scimitar nodded, Bellagio is one of the most famous hotels in Las Vegas, with a 32,000-square-meter artificial lake in front of the hotel and a musical fountain show, which is one of the must-see attractions for tourists.

Michael continued, "When you get there, someone will pick up the car, and his name is ......"

"Don't tell me his name."

Scimitar waved his hand and continued to ask, "Pick-up time." ”

"Okay."

Michael laughs, "At 6 p.m., at the entrance of the hotel, he has another car key, and he will provide a vehicle for you to return to." ”

"6 p.m.?"

The scimitar raised his wrist and looked at the time, it was almost 11 o'clock in the afternoon, and it would take 6 hours to reach Las Vegas from Compton Town at the earliest, so it seemed that the time was a bit tight.

Michael took a sip of whiskey, put down his glass and asked:

"Isn't it a little tight on time?"

"It's okay."

Machete shook his head and said, "Take a shortcut." ”

"A shortcut?"

Michael asked curiously, "Which road to take?" ”

"Route 14."

"Oh?"

Michael squinted his eyes and smiled, "Are you going through Death Valley?" ”

"Yes."

Machete nodded.

Located in the desert valley of southeastern California, on the border between California and Nevada, Death Valley is a basin and mountain terrain that is the hottest and driest place in North America. In the summer, the temperature here is very high, often above 37 degrees, and many people have lost their way and could not get out of Death Valley because of their adventures, and died of heat and starvation in the valley.

The scimitar closed the notepad and said:

"A car, a package, one and a half meters long, half a meter wide, 50 kilograms, a distance of 450 miles (700 kilometers), you need to rest and refuel once on the way, 8,000 US dollars, half before and after the event, and the car will be handed over in front of the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas at 6 p.m."

"Yes."

"Okay."

The scimitar nodded, "If no one comes to pick up the car, it's not my responsibility, I'll just leave the car there." ”

"No problem."

"Then sign the agreement."

With that, the scimitar took out the entrustment agreement in duplicate from his bosom, wrote the necessary content on it, and handed it to Michael.

Michael took the agreement, took a pen from the breast pocket of his suit and signed his name on the agreement.

The scimitar put away a copy of the agreement and said:

"Then I'll get to work."

Michael raised his glass, looked at the scimitar and said:

"Have a nice trip."

"Thank you."

The scimitar shook his head and grabbed the car keys on the table, "You still have to drive, you can't drink." ”

"Okay."

Michael drained the whiskey from his glass and laughed, "We'll have another drink when you get back." ”

"Yes."

Machete nodded.

Michael put down his glass and said:

"The car is already parked at the door, and you can see it when you go out."

"I see."

After saying that, the scimitar turned around and walked out of the study, and came to the door of the villa, where a black Chevrolet SUV was parked in front of the door, and a black bodyguard in a black suit stood next to it.

The black bodyguard saw the scimitar walk out of the villa and hurriedly opened the Chevrolet's car door.

The scimitar stepped into the SUV, started the car, and drove towards the gate of the manor.