53: Chapter 53 Li Wei's Revelation: Cowardice Breaks Through Defense

After the fire was extinguished, looking at the devastated property, Li Wei couldn't help but curse at Lin Chen.

The fire hydrant at the alley entrance was still dripping water, forming a small, murky puddle on the ground. Half the roof of the dilapidated bungalow Lin Chen had bought at a low price had collapsed, and charred wooden beams hung curled in mid-air, shedding flakes of charcoal ash at the slightest touch.

Old furniture and debris in the corner had turned into lumps of black charcoal. The ground was mixed with water stains, black ash, and unburnt wood shavings, making it sticky underfoot. A pungent, burnt smell mingled with the smoke, stinging the nose and making eyes water.

Several Chinese neighbors who had helped put out the fire shook their heads and left. Before departing, they glanced at Lin Chen twice; the pity and helplessness in their eyes stung like needles.

Li Wei clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, his face flushed red. He had just finished helping move out the last of the unburnt wooden planks, and the sweat on his forehead mixed with black ash, leaving streaks of dirt on his cheeks. He looked both anxious and furious.

He took two steps forward, staring at Lin Chen's back, and shouted at the top of his lungs: "Can you be a bit tougher? You're always afraid of this and that!"

Lin Chen stood two steps away from the house, his fingers unconsciously picking at the faded seam of his trousers. His eyes darted away, not daring to look at Li Wei or the wreckage. His voice was muffled and slightly stuttering: "I, I'm afraid of making things worse..."

"Worse?" Li Wei acted as if he had heard a joke, suddenly raising his voice and slamming his hand hard against the nearby concrete wall, turning his palm red. "That bastard Marcus is shitting on our heads! Burning the house is a clear act of retaliation. Do you think just enduring it will make it go away?"

He stepped forward again and slapped Lin Chen's shoulder heavily, the force making Lin Chen sway. His tone was full of frustration at Lin Chen's lack of backbone: "Have you forgotten how he blocked you last time, pushed you against the alley wall, and demanded the debt? Have you forgotten how he spat in your face and pointed at your nose, saying that Chinese people are spineless cowards who can be crushed at will?"

Lin Chen's shoulders stiffened, and he dug his fingers in harder, his nails almost embedding into his palms. He looked down at the black ash and water stains on the ground, and involuntarily, the scene from a few days ago when Marcus demanded the debt flashed before his eyes—the thug's spit splattering on his face, surrounded by the jeers of other Mexicans. That sense of humiliation still weighed heavily on his heart.

Even worse, scenes from his past life flooded in. In his previous life, he was just like this—always choosing to endure when facing trouble, afraid of problems, and afraid of stepping out of his comfort zone. When a colleague stole his project, he endured it; when his boss gave his credit to someone else, he endured that too. In the end, he became a bottom-feeding corporate slave, working overtime until he died suddenly in front of his computer. On his deathbed, he was filled only with regret, hating himself for being so cowardly, hating that he had lived his whole life in "fear."

"I know you're meticulous, thoughtful, and steady in your work." Seeing him silent, Li Wei's tone softened slightly, yet remained urgent. "But we're living in this Los Angeles Slum District. Especially as Chinese, we have no one backing us. The soft fear the hard, and the hard fear those who don't value their lives! You have skills, you can make big money with futures, and you can accurately acquire properties waiting for demolition. We aren't pushovers! You worked so hard to pick this house, and now it's been burned down just like that—can you really swallow this?"

Lin Chen remained silent, his lips pressed into a tight line. He unconsciously bit his lower lip until he tasted a faint hint of blood, which snapped him back to reality. He glanced up at the burned-out house; the walls were scorched black, and the window glass lay shattered on the ground. This was one of the three houses he had saved money to buy, his foundation for taking root in this era, and it had been burned down by Marcus's people just like that.

Frustration, anger, humiliation, and the deep-seated resentment from his past life all gathered in his chest like a raging fire, burning until his very insides ached. He wanted to retreat, to just let it go—after all, he could just buy another house—but Li Wei's words were like a hammer, striking the shell of cowardice wrapped around his heart, causing cracks to form.

"Chen, I'm not forcing you." Seeing the struggle in his eyes, Li Wei sighed, patted his arm, and spoke with complete sincerity. "Back then, you helped me drive off those thugs and saved my life; my life belongs to you. If you say we fight, I'll fight with you—I'll follow you through fire and water, even if it means taking on Marcus, I won't hesitate. But if you keep shrinking back, he'll only become more brazen. Next time, it won't be the house they burn; it'll be us!"

These words struck Lin Chen's mind like a thunderbolt. That's right—a greedy, insatiable thug like Marcus would never know when to stop. This fire was just a warning; next time, it would only be worse. Was he really going to live his whole life in cowardice like in his past life, letting others bully him and missing every opportunity? He hadn't been reborn to repeat the same mistakes. He wanted to control his own life, stand at the top, and make those who looked down on Chinese people look up to him!

Just then, the Doubao AI in his mind suddenly emitted a very faint chime that only Lin Chen could hear. A pale blue virtual screen quietly popped up before his eyes, clearly displaying Marcus's movements. Red markers accurately pinpointed several places he frequented—the underground gambling den on 7th Street, the Mexican bar at the street corner, and a stronghold belonging to a small Mexican gang. Next to it, a concise note was attached: Leaves the gambling den at 8:00 PM every night, usually accompanied by 2-3 lackeys, and has recently incurred high gambling debts.

Only Lin Chen could see the screen. His eyes paused slightly, but no one noticed his anomaly. However, this sudden information was like an adrenaline shot, piercing into his struggling heart. He wasn't fighting alone; he had the Doubao AI, accurate information, and Li Wei to help him. Why should he be afraid?

Lin Chen slowly raised his hand, releasing the fingers that had been picking at his trouser seam, and then slowly clenched his fist. His knuckles turned white, and the veins on the back of his hand bulged slightly. His previously evasive gaze slowly shifted from the ground to Li Wei's face. In those eyes that had been full of cowardice and hesitation, the confusion was fading bit by bit, replaced by an unprecedented determination.

Seeing his expression, Li Wei's eyes lit up. He knew that Lin Chen had listened and figured it out. He didn't say anything more, just looked at him quietly, waiting for his decision.

Lin Chen stood in place, silent for a full half-minute. The fire in his chest had finally burned through that shell of cowardice; all hesitation and retreat were replaced by anger and determination. He looked up toward the direction of 7th Street, where Marcus frequented, and the cowardice in his eyes vanished without a trace.

Lin Chen raised his head, his eyes devoid of the cowardice of the past.