America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

"This belonged to an old man who died last week. Nobody paid to take it, and since it looked like an electronic product, I just grabbed it..."

Larry knelt on the ground, his voice growing softer and softer.

He dared not look Chen Ming in the eye, fearing that this doctor, more terrifying than a devil, would "examine" his spleen at any moment.

Chen Ming ignored the trembling Larry and instead looked thoughtfully at Sophia.

"Are there situations where they refuse to accept it?"

"Ha, there are plenty."

Sofia gave a cold laugh.

"Chen, you need to understand that what this country has no shortage of is homeless people dying on the streets, just like Hollywood has no shortage of fools dreaming of becoming stars..."

"Aside from 'rare skin types' like albinism or rare products with unusual tumors, pharmaceutical companies don't lack most ordinary 'normal samples' at all; their cold storage facilities are overflowing."

"Like when the federal government stopped issuing food stamps in October... the market was even saturated for a time."

Chen Ming felt his head buzzing.

The market for the corpse trade is saturated.

Just a few words constitute an utterly absurd and hellish joke.

He shook his head and began to estimate the value of the things in front of him.

There was about $800 or $900 in cash, plus pills and miscellaneous items, so the total value should be around $1,500.

"Pack all of these up and put them in the trunk of my car."

Chen Ming kicked the shoebox stuffed with dirty money and odds and ends, then walked out of Larry's tent.

"Sophia, if I want to bury them... I mean, the old man and Jamie, how much will it cost? What are the procedures?"

Sofia, who was wiping her hands with a wet wipe, paused, then let out the expected sneer.

"Ha, I knew it."

She leaned against the car door with her arms crossed, her eyes behind her sunglasses carrying a hint of mockery.

"I could tell just now that although you're ruthless, your heart isn't completely hardened... typical student syndrome."

"Just tell me the solution."

"There are two ways."

Sofia held up two fingers.

"Option A, following the official and formal procedures, requires us to first contact the county coroner's office. Because it was an unnatural death, we'll have to wait in line for an autopsy..."

"Then, because you're not an immediate family member, you have to wait until the 30-day unclaimed period ends before you can apply to claim the body as a guarantor. After that, you have to find a compliant funeral home and pay for transportation, embalming, refrigeration, and the cheapest pine coffin..."

Sofia did a quick calculation on her phone and gave a number.

"The entire process for two people would cost at least $12,000, not including the cost of the burial plot."

After hearing this, Chen Ming couldn't help but cough twice.

Twelve thousand.

Even though he had just stolen $1,500 from a burglary, the remaining shortfall was still an astronomical figure.

Although he agreed to help the old man bury his son, it was still too much of a burden for him to pay such a large sum of money out of his own pocket.

"What about Option B?"

"Option B is what your line of work is all about."

Sofia shrugged, her tone becoming subtle.

"Guess why when we go to poor people's homes to collect goods, they readily hand over their relatives to us? It's because of the body donation agreement."

"We will tell the family that the deceased will contribute to great medical progress, and in return, we will cover the transportation and cremation costs free of charge..."

"The family only needs to sign a document to save more than $10,000 in funeral expenses, and they will also receive a beautifully packaged box of ashes and a thank-you letter... and even some extra money."

Sofia paused at this point.

"As for what happened between signing the papers and receiving the ashes, was he taken to an autopsy or sold to an arms dealer for mine blast resistance testing...?"

"No one knows except us and the buyer, not even God."

"And you also have to consider another issue."

Sofia flicked her cigarette ash and calmly delivered another blow.

"Now that the old man and his son are both dead, who do you want to sign the donation agreement?"

"The law stipulates that only the signature of an immediate family member is valid. You have no right to sign on their behalf. If you bury them in a private place—congratulations, that's called illegal disposal of a body, which is a serious crime."

Chen Ming felt a throbbing sensation in his temples.

"So you mean in this country, it's much harder to give two homeless people a proper burial than to kill them without anyone noticing?"

"Bingo, you're absolutely right."

Sofia snapped her fingers, a mocking smile playing on her lips.

"Nobody will care about the latter, but the former..."

She pointed to the gleaming skyscrapers of downtown Los Angeles in the distance.

"It involves municipal sanitation, land planning, funeral taxes, and forensic allowances—that's a multi-billion dollar industry chain. Whoever allows you to bury people for free is robbing capitalists and the federal government."

"I thought you knew all this."

"I thought they would have a little more humanity," Chen Ming said, scratching his face.

Seeing Chen Ming's gloomy face, Sophia changed the subject.

"However, if you really want to help, it's not entirely impossible."

"We just need to make a small adjustment."

"What kind of flexibility?"

"We can forge a pre-death donation agreement, since no one will check anyway. Then we can find a crematorium, cremate the person, get the ashes, and spend some money to buy a small plot on the edge of a less-than-ideal cemetery..."

"Although it wasn't a grand funeral, at least there was a stone plaque with his name on it."

"Approximately how much will it cost?" Chen Ming asked.

"Two thousand, I guess."

Sofia held up two fingers.

"Cremation is 500, and a burial plot is 1,500. This is already a friendly price. The crematorium owner still owes me a favor."

"That's fine then," Chen Ming sighed.

If the medal doesn't sell for a good price, he might even lose several hundred dollars on this trip.

"Get in the car, before I change my mind."

Sofia swiftly opened the car door without offering any further criticism of Chen Ming's "charitable act."

Compassion is a luxury for someone like her who makes a living in the gray area, but since the boss has decided to pay the bill, she will demonstrate the professionalism that matches it.

The Corolla drove for less than two blocks before stopping downstairs at a budget hotel called "Golden Palm"—although the place had absolutely nothing to do with "gold" or "palm," and there were only a few gangsters trading marijuana and broken bottles scattered around the entrance.

"Bring fifty dollars and come with me."

Sofia walked into the dimly lit lobby in her high heels and knocked on a small door next to the front desk with practiced ease.

"Who?"

"Sophia, come see the notary."

The door opened a crack, and a strong musty smell wafted out.

The person who opened the door was an extremely thin, elderly white man, wearing an old suit with a yellowed collar, and clutching a flat whiskey jug in his hand.

"We need two voluntary donation agreements, dated three weeks ago."