Pu Bancang kicked away the empty oil drum blocking the road.
The scrapyard was piled like a mountain of garbage. The broken refrigerator, broken TV, and rusty iron sheets glowed dark red in the setting sun. He shouldn't have come to a place like this - the boss of the Qinglong Gang, half of the sky to the east of the city, even if he smelled the bad smell, he felt the price had dropped.
But today is evil.
