What the hell is the "kill line" when you're in America?

"Come on, Lee, give me a hand," Buck called out. "Get him inside, we need to hurry."

Li Ang looked at him, then at the still-warm corpse on the ground, and realized that his understanding of the rules of this world was far too shallow.

He walked over, and he and Buck each grabbed one of the corpse's feet.

Bakla zipped up his jacket, dusted off his hands, and let out a long sigh.

"Done."

He pulled a phone with a cracked screen from his pocket and dialed a number.

The call was answered quickly.

"Hello, it's me, Buck."

"I have a piece of merchandise here, yes, just dead."

"Alcohol poisoning."

Buck casually defined the cause of the fat man's death over the phone.

Li Ang stood aside, watching this scene, unable to utter a single word.

He had killed more people than Buck had ever seen, and his methods of disposing of corpses were far more professional than this crude bagging.

But he never imagined that the first thing he would do after killing someone would be to call the buyer.

The feeling was like slaying a demonic beast in the world of cultivation, then skillfully skinning and dismembering it, and contacting shops in the market to buy materials.

No, it's even more outrageous than that.

Monsters are anomalies, and they are the carriers of rare and precious materials.

But the one in front of me is a person.

After hearing something said on the other end of the phone, Buck smiled.

He hung up the phone and grinned at Li Ang.

"It's all taken care of, they'll be here soon."

"Them?" Li Ang asked.

“Yes, a bunch of professionals,” Buck said. “They offer the highest prices and never renege on their commitments.”

Li Ang remained silent, feeling his understanding being constantly being refreshed.

He looked towards the RV; Anna was still inside.

"Anna..."

"Don't worry, buddy," Buck said, seemingly reading his worries. "She won't see anything."

"Let's move him further away."

Li Ang nodded.

He returned to the RV, but didn't go inside. He just leaned against the door to make sure Anna wouldn't suddenly run out.

Not long after, a white van without any markings drove into the area.

The car door opened, and three people got out.

They were all wearing identical white hazmat suits and masks, obscuring their faces.

The leader, holding a tablet computer, walked up to Buck.

"Buck, how's the shipment this time?"

"It's still fresh," Buck said, pointing to the canvas bag on the ground.

The man nodded, and the other two immediately stepped forward and opened the canvas bag.

Without any hesitation, one person shone a powerful flashlight on the corpse's face and pupils, while the other took out a small instrument and scanned the corpse's chest.

"Vitality signs have completely disappeared; the time of death is no more than fifteen minutes," the man with the equipment reported.

The man in the lead looked at the data on the tablet and nodded.

"Good condition; the liver and kidneys are still at their peak activity." He glanced at the inconspicuous wound on the corpse's temple, frowning slightly. "What happened here?"

Buck scratched his head: "Alcohol poisoning. He drank too much and fell down."

"You fell?" The leader squatted down and glanced at the area around the wound.

"Buck, are you sure?" He stood up, glanced at Buck, and then looked at Leon.

Li Ang was wearing a black trench coat, which made him quite conspicuous.

"Buck, when did you get a new partner?" the leader asked.

"A friend came to lend a hand," Buck replied vaguely.

The leader didn't ask any more questions; his attention returned to the corpse.

"This wound is very interesting." He stared at the fatal gash. "It instantly destroyed the intracranial tissue, but did not cause extensive bone fractures."

"Very efficient."

Another forensic doctor also came over and examined it carefully.

Li Ang stood aside, listening to these people's professional analysis, his heart stirred with emotion.

These people weren't handling a corpse; they were dissecting a rare specimen.

"Interesting, very interesting." The leader seemed very excited.

"This specimen is of extremely high research value."

Buck listened to their conversation and rubbed his hands together impatiently.

"Hey everyone, research is research, but the price..."

"Don't worry, you'll get your share." The leader waved his hand. "The base price is three thousand, and because this unique wound offers extremely high research value, we'll add another three thousand."

"Six thousand dollars?" Buck's eyes lit up.

This is much higher than he expected.

"Take him away." The leader waved his hand.

Two men in hazmat suits immediately lifted the canvas bag onto the truck.

Just as they were about to leave, Li Ang's gaze swept over the tops of the three people's heads.

He had assumed that people who did this kind of business wouldn't have a very high cut-off score.

But the scene before him once again overturned his understanding.

The man leading the group, holding a tablet, and another man carrying a corpse, were both bathed in golden light.

[Kill threshold: Extremely high]

Two people with extremely high kill thresholds! This was the first time he had ever seen them.

This was more bizarre than any corpse-refining sect he had encountered in the cultivation world.

The definition of the "kill threshold" in the Demonic Path System is a comprehensive reflection of vitality and social value.

These two individuals undoubtedly possess extremely high social value.

But what they were doing was this kind of shady business that skirted the line between law and morality.

Just how distorted have the rules here become?

But what shocked him even more was that one of them did not have any kill lines displayed above his head!

How is that possible?

From the moment he returned to this world and obtained the system, everyone he met, regardless of their status or whether they were alive or dead, had a clear kill line above their head.

"Endangered", "Low", "Medium", "High", "Very High".

These levels constitute his basic understanding of the world.

He didn't know if there were any higher levels.

But now, he sees someone who has no kill threshold?

What does this mean?

Is it outside the scope of the system's evaluation?

Or is it that the person in front of you has already transcended the constraints of the "kill line" rule?

"Hey, Lee, what are you spacing out for?" Buck's voice pulled Lee back from his shock.

He was excitedly counting the stack of brand-new banknotes in his hand.

"Six thousand! A full six thousand!" Buck grinned from ear to ear. "We're rich, man, we're rich!"

He pulled out a thick wad of cash, counted out four thousand eight hundred dollars, and stuffed it into Li Ang's hand.

"It was agreed that you'd get 80% and I'd get 20%."

Li Ang took the money, his mind still a mess.

Who exactly is that person?

"What's wrong, buddy?" Buck noticed Leon's expression was off. "Are you scared?"

He patted Li Ang on the shoulder, looking like someone who had been through it all.

"You'll get used to it. It's the first time you've seen something like this, so it's always like this," Buck grinned. "These guys are a bit strange, but they're quick to pay, and that's enough."

"Sometimes it's a corpse, sometimes it's something else."

"In short, as long as they have the goods, you can't go wrong by calling them."

Buck was clearly not interested in these people's backgrounds; he only cared about the money.

Just then, a person wearing the same white hazmat suit walked over.

Li Ang noticed that he was the one who didn't have a kill line displayed above his head.

He walked up to Li Ang and looked him up and down.

Through the hazmat suit and mask, Li Ang couldn't see his face.

But when he spoke, Li Ang was stunned for a moment.

"Chinese?"