America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

As he spoke, his greedy gaze fell on the medal in Chen Ming's hand.

"Is this the treasure that old madman was hiding? Last time I called four people to come at night and we still couldn't get any... Everyone gets a share, Asian kid."

Larry stretched out his dirty hand, missing two fingers, and spread it out with an air of self-righteousness.

"This is my territory. This old devil still owes me protection money for several days... Give it to me to pay off the debt, or you can pay him a hundred dollars."

Sofia frowned in disgust, about to speak, when Larry, taking advantage of the situation, blocked the tent.

"And this pile of junk."

He pointed with his mutilated finger at the two corpses in the tent, like taking stock of expired canned goods on a shelf.

"These two lumps of meat, one big and one small, died on my territory... According to Skidlow's rules, they are my assets, and you'll have to pay me if you want to take them away."

Larry revealed his yellowed gums and waved a finger in front of Chen Ming.

"Fixed price, 1,500."

"Fifteen thousand? Why don't you just rob a bank?!"

Sofia was so angry she almost threw her sunglasses at Larry's face, then looked at Chen Ming, only to find his expression was very calm.

"Sophia, you go back to the car first."

Chen Ming spoke, his voice not loud, but it sent a chill down Sophia's spine.

"Huh? But that bastard is still here..."

"Press Enter to go up."

Chen Ming interrupted her, then slowly stretched his ankles and rolled his leather shoes on the oily cement floor.

"The soles of my shoes suddenly feel a little itchy, I need to find something to rub them on."

"..."

Sofia did not move.

Having spent a considerable amount of time on the streets, she naturally sensed the tension behind the "itchy soles" comment—which usually meant that what followed would be bloody and unsuitable for children.

"Get back in the car? And then leave you here to play the hero all by yourself?"

Sofia didn't leave. Instead, she took out a cigarette from her bag, lit it, and leaned lazily against a supermarket cart full of cans.

"Under the California Penal Code, if I leave now, I'll be a witness; if I stay, I'll be an accomplice... I hate dealing with district attorneys, and I hate abandoning friends even more."

"what ever."

Chen Ming didn't turn around, he just kept walking forward.

As Chen Ming approached, the greed in Larry's eyes quickly turned into ferocity.

He abruptly spat out the half-smoked cigar from his mouth and pulled a serrated Buck hunting knife from his back waist.

"Stop right there, you lost monkey! Who do you think you are, Bruce Lee?!"

Larry arched his back and roared like a hyena.

"Open your eyes and look carefully. This is Skidlow, not your neighborhood with its manicured lawns or a shopping mall."

"Here, nobody cares whether you live or die. One more step closer, and I can slice you into bacon and eat you..."

But before Larry could finish his harsh words, he felt a blur before his eyes, then his vision began to rise, and he started having difficulty breathing.

Several drug addicts who were peeking around to watch the commotion immediately thought they had hit a brick wall again.

With just one arm exerting force, the muscles under the sleeve stretched Larry's clothes almost to bursting open, and Larry, who weighed over 160 pounds, was lifted up like a rag doll, his legs kicking weakly in the air.

"Uh...uh—"

Larry's hunting knife clattered to the ground, and he desperately tried to pry Chen Ming's fingers open with both hands, but it was like a baby trying to pry open a pair of pliers.

"You're right, Larry, no police will come here, so I can kick your head like a football and nothing will happen to me."

I'm giving you two choices.

"Option one: Go back to your doghouse and spit out every penny you squeezed out of these bastards. I want cash, right now."

"Option two..."

Chen Ming pressed precisely on Larry's left rib area with the thumb of his other hand.

"I'm a doctor, Larry... I know how much force to strike which part of the body can cause a ruptured spleen."

"You might feel fine now, even able to walk back, but by midnight your abdominal cavity will be filled with blood, followed by internal bleeding shock, and you'll slowly die like a wild dog in the cold and excruciating pain..."

"Believe me, that kind of death is a hundred times more painful than being sliced ​​into bacon."

Larry was so frightened that his legs went stiff.

"I'll give it to you...cough cough...I'll give it to you!!"

Having received a satisfactory answer, Chen Ming relaxed his grip.

Larry fell onto the concrete like a bag of trash, scrambling and crawling away from Chen Ming.

He had thought the doctors in the hospital who charged thousands of dollars for a ten-minute chat were scary enough, but compared to this Asian man in front of him, he was practically the Virgin Mary…

"He let go of the boss!"

"Kill him!"

The few Larry henchmen who had been dumbfounded finally reacted and rushed towards Chen Ming, brandishing folding knives and chains they had taken from somewhere.

Sofia's expression changed, and she reached into her bag to touch the bear spray.

But Chen Ming didn't even turn his head.

He simply bent down and picked up Larry's hunting knife from the ground.

Facing the thugs rushing towards him, Chen Ming expressionlessly gripped both ends of the blade with his hands, his thumbs pressing against the center of the back of the blade.

work hard.

"Snap—"

The hunting knife, powerful enough to cut through cow bones, was broken in two in Chen Ming's hands like a soda cracker.

The three thugs, who were halfway there, seemed to be frozen in place, abruptly stopping in their tracks.

They looked at the hunting knife broken in two on the ground, then at Chen Ming's not particularly strong hands, their expressions as if they had seen a monster.

"This is none of your business, get out of here."

"Okay, sir... Actually, we've wanted to beat him up for a long time too."

……

Three minutes later, Larry came out carrying a Nike shoebox covered in oil stains, as if he were holding his own urn.

"That's it...really, that's all I have!"

With a loud crash, the shoebox landed upside down in front of Chen Ming.

A pungent smell, a mixture of sweat, fermented alcohol, and some kind of chemical agent, burst forth, causing Sofia, who was standing nearby, to instinctively cover her nose and take a half-step back.

That was a disgusting "treasure trove".

At the top was a jumble of banknotes, mostly crumpled one-dollar and five-dollar bills, the paper damp and sticky, emitting a musty smell and the unique bodily fluid odor of the underworld.

Mixed among the banknotes were a dozen or so orange prescription drug bottles and white powder sealed in resealable bags.

OxyContin, Alprazolam, and fentanyl, the most popular drug in Skidrow.

Below that were some miscellaneous "trophies"—several Casio and Timex watches with broken crystals, several gold-plated necklaces that would most likely make your neck turn green, and even two gold teeth whose owners were unknown.

Chen Ming put on a mask, and poked at the pile of things with the tip of the broken knife, as if he were rummaging through medical waste.

Suddenly, the tip of the knife picked up a small, flesh-colored piece of plastic.

It was an old-fashioned behind-the-ear hearing aid; the battery compartment cover wasn't even closed, and you could even see earwax residue on it.

"You collect this stuff too?"

Sofia looked at the hearing aid and felt a wave of nausea wash over her.