America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

Chapter 144 Entering the Extraordinary

Evelyn took the envelope with suspicion and roughly tore it open.

There was no bill inside, only a few clear photo printouts.

The first document is a dual contract she signed with the community landscaping company; the second is a detailed statement showing her monthly cash rebates of $8,000.

Finally, there was a blank IRS whistleblower form, the meaning of which couldn't be clearer.

Evelyn's latte fell to the ground with a thud, spilling coffee all over her trousers. Her face turned pale, and her lips trembled.

"Where did you get all this?!"

"That's not important. What's important is the number on it, isn't it?" Chen Ming said gently, his hands in his pockets.

"Over the past three years, you have used your position as an officer to collect approximately $250,000 in kickbacks."

"Guess what if I send this to the IRS? Will they freeze your property first or revoke your husband's dental license? By the way, the IRS offers whistleblowers a reward of 15% to 30% of the recovered taxes—that's quite a tempting offer for us."

Evelyn was so frightened that she took two steps back. Her previous arrogance and haughtiness vanished completely, and her eyes were filled with unyielding fear.

In this country, messing with gangs might get you shot at worst, but messing with the IRS means you'll be crawling out of your grave to pay your taxes even after you're dead.

"No—don't report me!"

Evelyn's voice immediately became tearful.

"Please, my husband has a heart condition. If our accounts are frozen, we're all finished!"

"We are good neighbors, Ms. Evelyn, and of course I don't want to see a tragedy happen."

Chen Ming smiled and helped her pick up the empty coffee cup from the ground.

"So, do I need to move my food cart now?"

"No need, it looks like a modern—no, classical work of art just sitting there!"

"Where's my front lawn?"

"2.5 inches is too demanding! Naturally growing lawns are more in line with California's environmental principles. Even if you let it grow to knee height, I wouldn't say a word!"

Evelyn shook her head frantically, almost swearing a solemn oath.

"Great, then I won't disturb your morning run any longer."

Chen Ming nodded in satisfaction, then turned and walked back into the house.

As soon as the door closed, Sofia, who had been peeking through the blinds, jumped out impatiently.

"Good heavens! What did you say to that old witch? The way she looked at you was like she was looking at Satan, and her legs were shaking as she left!"

"It's nothing, I just had an in-depth discussion with her about the severity of US tax law." Chen Ming went to the kitchen to pour coffee.

"By the way, I've saved you the trouble of weeding every month. You can just trim the weeds casually, no need to thank me."

"You're a devil who knows how to exploit the middle class to their core." Sophia rolled her eyes, holding her coffee cup. "But that also means we finally don't have to deal with those damn community tickets anymore—by the way, you have so much cash in your pocket that you don't know where to put it anymore."

"How much exactly?" Chen Ming took a sip of coffee.

"There's still 1.2 million left to wash away. As long as you don't squander the rest, you'll be fine." Sophia gestured exaggeratedly.

"Then let's leave it for now and deal with the restaurant's revenue later." Chen Ming put down his cup.

Student loans, rent, and daily expenses are no longer a sword hanging over his head. Now Chen Ming finally has enough time to do other things.

For example, physical fitness increases dramatically after the initial assessment system is upgraded.

Chen Ming turned and walked towards the basement.

The place has been completely transformed. Soundproofing foam is laid all around, and shock-absorbing rubber pads five centimeters thick are laid on the ground. A strong rubber smell permeates the air.

Chen Ming took off his shirt and walked directly to the newly assembled heavy bench press rack in the corner.

"Let me see just how high the limits of 30 points of strength really are—"

Without warming up, he directly hung black cast iron bar weights on both ends of the barbell.

100 kilograms, as easy as pushing a stick.

He weighed 200 kilograms, and his breathing remained unchanged.

300 kilograms — I can feel it a little bit.

When the barbell bar bent noticeably due to the metal plates hanging from both ends, Chen Ming lay on the bench press, gripped the anti-slip texture with both hands, and exerted force.

"Clang!"

He deftly and cleanly lifted the weight of over 500 kilograms and then steadily put it back on the hook. The whole process was smooth and effortless, without any muscle compensation or trembling.

This data is already extremely exaggerated.

Without equipment assistance, the human bench press limit is only about 300 kilograms, and even with equipment assistance, it's no more than 600 kilograms.

Chen Ming felt he could easily reach 700 kilograms, but if he piled any more, the pole wouldn't be able to support it.

Suddenly, Sofia's shout came from upstairs.

"Chen, the delivery guy just dumped a giant cardboard box in our driveway. You'd better move it in quickly—"

"They're here."

Chen Ming put on a T-shirt, locked the basement door, and went upstairs.

Through the living room's floor-to-ceiling windows, a huge cardboard box bearing a sports brand logo lay bathed in the California sunshine.

"What did you buy? It looks like a small refrigerator." Sofia, biting her yogurt straw, looked suspiciously at the large box that looked to weigh at least a hundred pounds.

"Do you need my help?"

"It's just a meat grinder accessory used in restaurants," Chen Ming lied without batting an eye.

"No need, I can manage on my own."

He pushed open the door, grabbed the cardboard box by the strap with one hand, and easily lifted it into the house like a takeout bag.

Sofia's eyes twitched as she watched.

"You really should go to the Super Bowl. The Los Angeles Rams' frontcourt absolutely needs a monster like you. I'd buy you guys for every game then—"

"I want to live a few more years, I don't want to get chronic traumatic brain disease —" Chen Ming carried the box straight to the basement.

"I need to set up the machine downstairs. It might be a bit noisy, but please don't bother me."

"Whatever, it seems you've already dealt with that witch."

"Click".

Chen Ming locked the basement door from the inside.

Tear open the cardboard box. Inside wasn't a meat grinder at all, but a pitching machine used by Major League Baseball teams for training, with a maximum speed of 185 kilometers per hour.

Chen Ming fixed the pitching machine at the far end of the basement, filled a whole basket with hardballs, and then turned the speed knob directly to the red "Ma" mark on the far right.

He stepped back a few meters away, took a deep breath, and pressed the start button on the remote control.

"Bang!"

The ball machine emitted a dull thud.

A white baseball flew straight toward Chen Ming's face like a bullet.

An ordinary person would be hit at that speed without even blinking, and even top hitters in the major leagues need to anticipate the ball to intercept it.

But in Chen Ming's eyes, the trajectory of the ball was clearly visible.

He didn't flinch, but instead raised his right hand.

"Snapped!"

The immense kinetic energy made his palms heat up, even emitting a wisp of very faint white smoke. He held the baseball firmly in his hand, and the leather stitching emitted a burnt smell due to the intense friction.

"This speed is still too slow."

Chen Ming flicked his wrist.

He pressed the remote control again, this time setting it to "continuous random firing".

boom! boom! boom!