America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

It was nearly midnight when I left the boxing gym.

The Koreatown at night is not peaceful. In the shadows of the alleyways, you can see drug addicts with vacant eyes and gangsters waiting for their chance to strike.

Although he had just unlocked his fighting skills, Chen Ming had no interest in finding a few homeless people to practice on and gain experience at this time.

With the accelerator floored, the Corolla roared through several red lights back to the apartment.

He slept very soundly.

The next morning, Chen Ming was awakened by the rich aroma of coffee.

Stepping out of the bedroom, Sofia was sitting at the dining table, typing on her laptop.

She changed into a neat white shirt, and although she was still wearing skinny jeans, she finally looked somewhat like an accountant.

"Stop looking, this is my IRS special skin..."

Seeing Chen Ming staring at her, Sophia slowly closed her laptop and put on a pair of sunglasses.

"When you're dealing with an informant, you can dress like a social worker or lawyer who's handing out welfare, which can instill a sense of awe in them."

That makes sense.

Chen Ming also poured himself a cup of coffee.

"So, what's our itinerary for today?"

"Let's keep rolling around in the mud, I'll take you to meet the real underground residents of Los Angeles, and maybe expand our contact list while we're at it..."

……

At 10 a.m., Chen Ming drove into Skidro, a district known as the "source of all evil".

Even though Chen Ming was mentally prepared, his eyebrows still twitched a few times when he saw the scene outside the car window.

This can no longer be called a city street.

The sidewalks on both sides of San Pedro Street have long since disappeared, replaced by an endless line of tents.

Layers of blue, orange, and gray plastic sheeting lay stacked on top of each other, like malignant tumors parasitizing an asphalt road.

A disabled veteran in a wheelchair, a drug addict covered in festering sores, a madman preaching to thin air...

Thousands of social outcasts roam here, the air thick with the stench of sun-baked excrement and the acrid smell of burning marijuana.

"Lock the car doors."

Chen Ming parked his car next to a fire hydrant—no one would issue a ticket here, and the police wouldn't even get out of their cars.

"Our first target is in that big red tent up ahead, his name is 'Dentist' Larry."

"A dentist?" Chen Ming was somewhat surprised.

Let alone in the US, even in Tokyo, this profession earns money at a rate comparable to robbery. How did it end up here?

"Because after he beat up his predecessor, he pulled out his gold tooth with his bare hands in front of everyone... Now he is the district chief of this area, responsible for distributing relief food and protection money."

The two got out of the car, immediately attracting countless stares from those around them.

Chen Ming followed Sophia expressionlessly, his hand unconsciously resting on the Glock belt at his waist.

His 26 points in mental attributes allow him to clearly distinguish which gazes are simply numb and which are filled with greed and hostility.

Lifting the stained red canvas, a strong, sour stench hits you.

An elderly Black man with a missing ear was sitting on a "throne" made of two boxes of expired canned goods, fiddling with a dirty radio in his hands.

"If you're here to persuade me to convert, get lost. If you're here to hand out sandwiches, leave your food and get out!"

"You'd better stop listening to your crap. It's me, Sofia."

"This is the new boss, Chen."

Sofia casually pointed to Chen Ming behind her.

"If anyone in this area ever kills themselves or goes to meet God in a moment of madness... just give them a call."

Larry raised his cloudy eyes and looked Chen Ming up and down.

"Looks like a baby that hasn't been weaned yet... I happen to have something troublesome on my hands right now, I don't know if you guys can handle it."

"It's over there, the most dilapidated one in the corner."

Larry pointed to the tent at the corner between the two crumbling walls, but he wouldn't move an inch.

"I'm not going over there. That old madman has a sharpened steel pipe; he almost gouged out my eye last time... Good luck to you guys."

"Also, remember to give me a fifty-yuan information fee."

"That damned old fox..."

Sofia muttered a curse under her breath and walked over with Chen Ming.

That tent was indeed terribly tattered.

It was less of a tent and more of a pile of garbage cobbled together from a few pieces of blackened waterproof tarpaulin and a supermarket cart. Even other homeless people around it subconsciously kept a distance, as if a devil lived inside.

"Is anyone there?" Chen Ming called out, but there was no response.

Sofia stopped two meters away from the tent and began to speak in a high-pitched voice.

"We are volunteers from the community care center. We heard there are people here who need help..."

"Get out of here!!!"

Before the words were finished, a roar erupted from deep within the tent.

Immediately afterwards, a rotten wooden plank with nails flew out and headed straight for Sofia.

"Snapped!"

Chen Ming caught the wooden plank steadily in mid-air and casually tossed it aside.

"A madman... his mother is a madman!"

Sofia then came to her senses, her face turning deathly pale with fright.

"I'm calling the police...no, I'm going to have this hellhole burned down!"

Chen Ming ignored her screams, simply flicked his wrist, and looked past the curtain.

A broken iron pot sat on the ground, and several empty dog ​​food bags labeled "Purina" were placed under it to support the fire. Two people lay in the deeper part of the pot.

The middle-aged man inside had grayish-purple skin and was already stiff.

The old white man blocking the way was very old, but he was still gripping a steel pipe tightly, his eyes bloodshot.

"Get out of my way, you damned Nazi lackeys! You can't steal my medals, and you can't steal my son!"

With a roar, a string of things swung out of his military green jacket, glittering in the sunlight.

Chen Ming narrowed his eyes.

Purple Star, Silver Star, Distinguished Service Cross... and several others he didn't recognize.

"Nazi?"

Sofia was so angry that she laughed.

"You've ever seen a Nazi in haute couture? You almost disfigured me just now..."

"Quiet down, Sophia. This gentleman is a World War II veteran," Chen Ming interrupted her coldly.

"A World War II veteran?"

The anger in Sofia's eyes subsided considerably, replaced by a sense of absurdity.

"He must be a hundred years old...and he can still swing a steel pipe?"

"Adrenaline and severe post-traumatic stress disorder can make people forget their age, especially when he thinks he's still in the snow in Belgium..."

Chen Ming slowly raised his hands, palms facing outwards.

As a medical student, he knew that neither reasoning with nor drawing a gun was a good option when dealing with a patient suffering from severe paranoia.

The former would be ignored, while the latter would be seen as an enemy attack—this old man only had a steel pipe in his hand, but who knows what else might be buried under this pile of junk.

"Listen, sir, there are no Nazis here. The war is over."

"We are a recovery team belonging to... the logistics and medical department."

"Medic?"

The old man's steel pipe drooped slightly, but he remained vigilant.

"Password: Has the rain stopped in Cherbourg?!"

"..."

Chen Ming had no idea about this decades-old code, but he reacted quickly and pointed to Sophia next to him.