Chapter 103 The Trip to Public Housing

After hanging up the phone, Song Ya called Lao Qiao again.

"Are you back in Chicago? At the record company? Okay, wait for my call at night, around eleven o'clock."

Old Joe hung up the phone after saying a word, at eleven o'clock... I don't know what's going on with Old Joe and what time it will be, but I'm going to participate in the protest early in the morning, according to Michelle It's definitely hard work to hang out on the street all day. And at that time, there will be many reporters following the whole process. For the sake of her image in the news, Song Ya feels that it is necessary to take a nap first to refresh her spirit.

Lie down on the sofa in the corner of the office, but couldn't fall asleep. It wasn't because of the temporary interest in Fergie just now, but because he owed the bank four million yuan. He said he didn't feel it, but his heart was still a little beating of. A+ Pedal Company’s one million yuan is easy to handle. If the business cannot survive, it will file for bankruptcy, but if the three million I feel it coming personal income mortgaged is not paid, then this song will no longer belong to me. One less long-term meal ticket for a lifetime...

"Delay..."

He called Delay in. "What are you going to do with the synth copyright library?"

"According to the original plan."

The original plan that DeLay said was discussed by several people before the acquisition of Warren Brothers Synthesizer Company. Since the copyright library of this company is very old and the licensing revenue has been declining year after year, DeLay plans to divide the copyright library into two. , pick out the newer part of the original copyright library and combine it with the synthetic sound invented by Song Ya for A+ Audio to form an A package, which is specially prepared for small companies with low budget. Then all the copyrights are packaged into a complete package B. The number of synthesized sounds in package B is about double that of package A, but the price is only 20% higher than that of package A. Those big companies who are afraid of copyright troubles and have sufficient budgets should very interested.

"Is there any company inquiry?" Song Ya asked.

"Of course, in addition to the original old customers, many new customers have started to contact me one after another. They have long noticed the new synthesized sound you invented in De Klerk and I feel it coming, but they didn't know there was an A+ before. Audio companies have no way to buy it. Now we have a copyright library with a market share of 5-7%, and it is difficult for them to bypass it, so they just bought it."

"Not bad." Song Ya calmed down a little.

"Can't you sleep? Do you want me to give you my sleeping pills?" Delay saw the blanket on the sofa.

"Forget it, it's not necessary to take medicine to fall asleep."

Song Ya declined. He personally felt that American people have very bad medication habits. They think that medicine should take effect immediately after taking it. For example, sleeping pills. If you take a medicine that gradually loses its effect, you can change it to a medicine that is more effective. It is easy to eat. After that, it was upgraded to a very domineering variety, and it is impossible for that kind of medicine not to hurt the body.

At eleven o'clock, Old Joe's car parked downstairs.

Song Ya got up to the back seat, "Hey! Boy, did a good job on the late-night show." Old Qiao put his arms around his shoulder affectionately.

"Thank you, where's your extended Lincoln?" Song Ya noticed that the car was a bit unfamiliar, and the driver was Carl, who almost never appeared outside of Old Joe's music. "Hey, Carl."

Carl smiled back at him.

"That car is very eye-catching, and there is too much space in the rear seat, the more you sit alone, the more lonely you will be..." Old Qiao said.

"Uh... well, won't you participate in the protest tomorrow?" Song Ya asked.

"I'm too lazy to go..."

Old Qiao pouted, "I've seen a lot."

Song Ya knew that Lao Qiao Records seemed to be in some trouble, but he didn't want to ask, and the other party didn't want to talk about it, so the two chatted casually about other topics tacitly.

The car turned around in Nancheng, "Carl." Old Joe suddenly called out.

Carl immediately turned the steering wheel sharply, the car made a sharp ninety-degree turn, entered an alley, and then stopped and turned off the engine.

"What's wrong?" Song Ya was thrown hard,

His shoulder hit the inside of the car door, and it hurt.

"It's okay." Old Qiao observed the outside carefully, "There will be a protest tomorrow, and there will be a lot of sliver on the road."

A bad premonition rose in Song Ya's heart.

After waiting quietly for more than ten minutes, Old Joe patted Carl on the shoulder, the car restarted, drove on the main road, and then went straight to the public housing area.

In the era when blacks poured into Chicago, whites built a number of public houses in the South City to accommodate them. Most of them were more than a dozen stories high and had a lot of interior space, but the construction quality and layout were poor. Gradually, this kind of community that can accommodate tens of thousands of people has become a hotbed of crime. Until now, many gangsters still keep their lairs in it, because there are many residents, the place is large, and the internal environment is complex, which is most suitable for avoiding pursuit.

"Old Qiao, what happened?" Song Ya asked cautiously.

"What's the matter, Mr. Kenneth wants to see you." Old Joe replied.

The car slid slowly and stopped outside a building. The public facilities here were in disrepair for a long time, and the street lights were basically broken. The dark corridor door looked like the giant mouth of a monster. Song Ya didn't know why Kenneth asked Old Joe to put himself Bringing this, I was already a little panicked, but seeing this scene made me even more frightened.

"Joe?" A voice came from the corridor.

"Yeah!" Old Joe pushed the door open and said, "You follow him."

"Aren't you together?" Song Ya asked.

"I am here waiting for you."

"All right."

Song Ya got out of the car and walked into the gate. Only then did he see a black man leaning against the elevator door, "with arms outstretched." After the man searched his body, he led him into the elevator room and pressed the button for the eighth floor.

The man didn't say a word, and Song Ya didn't know what to say.

The old elevator made an unpleasant creaking sound, and went up layer by layer. The man was wearing a hell bobtail flower turban on his head, which was very ordinary. The two arrived at the place in silence, and the elevator door opened.

'Boom! ’ A muffled sound came from outside, and Song Ya was startled.

"Hey! Don't make trouble at night!"

The man scolded, and Song Ya realized that it was just two brats wearing baseball gloves in the corridor playing catch...

Follow the other party into the corridor, the lights inside are dim and dilapidated, the walls are covered with various graffiti, and the air is filled with the strong smell of fried food.

The man kept greeting the residents in the building, walked to a staircase, and led Song Ya to climb another floor. The ninth floor was very unusual. Several gangsters guarded the staircase with models in their hands Song Ya didn't study the guns of all kinds of spears, but only saw that there seemed to be even AKs.

The two of them passed through a similar sentry and entered Kenneth's room. The layout inside was very Western-style, with Baroque wooden furniture, and some unknown oil paintings and various other things hanging on the wall. Animal horns.

"Big star, long time no see." Kenneth stood behind the boss's desk and opened his arms towards him. There was a tiger skin in front of the desk...

"Hey." Song Ya went to hug him.

Kenneth took out a pocket knife from his pocket...

Song Ya's heart skipped a beat.

He misunderstood, the other party took out another cigar from the humidor, cut it neatly with a knife, and threw it over.

Song Ya quickly caught it.

Then Kenneth picked up another silver pistol and pulled the trigger...

A blue flame emerges from the muzzle...

Well, Song Ya didn't know whether the other party acted in this way on weekdays, or was deliberately scaring him...

He pecked at the cigar at the 'muzzle of the gun', "I asked you to come here for nothing but to ask about the stormtroopers that day." Kenneth said.

"how?"

"The stormtroopers took one of GD's outlets and went to yours, right?"

It turned out that the other party was for this, the point of sale was taken away, and he was unscathed in the hands of the stormtroopers, which may have misunderstood them.

Song Ya's mind was spinning rapidly. He didn't want to tell the gang leader in front of him about his connection with the Cook County State Attorney, so he had to make up a reason, "I have a personal grudge with the captain of the stormtrooper."

"Vic?"

"Yes."

"Because of what?"

"Uh... I went to the same school as his daughter, and then..."

"You fucked his daughter?"

"No, no, I rejected her."

"Hahaha!" Kenneth patted Song Ya's shoulder and laughed, "You boy!"