America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

"The Rolex Submariner, while not the most sought-after green dial, is a highly valuable item on the secondary market; a brand new, complete set can sell for $13,000..."

"The Cartier Love bracelet, fully diamond-encrusted, has an official price of 15,000 yuan, but its resale value is at least 6,000 yuan..."

These are a few diamond necklaces with no discernible brand; I reckon even if you take the loose diamonds out, they could sell for several thousand.

The number on Chen Ming's phone calculator eventually stopped at 23,500.

More than 23,000 US dollars, this is the valuation after discounting.

This money is enough to solve half of his troubles, or to buy him a decent car.

But the excitement lasted for less than half a minute before it quickly cooled down.

Chen Ming lay on the bed, fiddling with his watch, his brow furrowed.

Valuation is valuation, and monetization is monetization.

This batch of goods is too hot to handle.

Both Rolex watches have serial numbers engraved on the inner ring, and if they appear in the hands of any legitimate pawn shop or watch dealer, they could attract the attention of the police.

The necklace doesn't have a serial number, but it's highly likely to have a laser-coded record with the GIA (Gemological Institute of America)—unless Chen Ming disassembles it all and only sells the gold and diamond pieces.

That would reduce its value by at least 70%.

Looking for Yuri?

The image of a Russian's bald head flashed through Chen Ming's mind, and he shook his head.

The stolen goods from this recent major robbery are not the same as the belongings of the dead. This Russian would definitely not dare to accept them, and might even sell himself to the Armenian gang or the police to curry favor.

"We need to find a better channel, or stockpile them for a while to avoid the storm."

Chen Ming sighed, packed the things away, and hid them in the innermost compartment of his wardrobe.

Fortunately, even setting aside the stolen goods, Chen Ming now has nearly ten thousand US dollars in liquid funds, which is like a dream for a medical student who was sleeping in his car just a few days ago.

Even if he only completes a few such transactions each month, he can still pay off his loans and raise enough tuition fees before the end of his leave of absence. Then, by constantly adding more orders, he becomes an extraordinary figure in this country.

Or rather, in this messed-up country, to escape the death row, you need the determination to fight against corpse traffickers and gangsters, and you also need a system to assist you...

In high spirits, Chen Ming brought up the system panel again.

Two lines of enticing data floated on my retina: [Attribute Points: 3], [Skill Points: 1].

In the past, he would have undoubtedly put all his points into strength or physique without hesitation; the thrill of becoming stronger was truly exhilarating…

But now, Chen Ming held back.

Through his research, he discovered that attribute points not only immediately strengthen the body, but also have a hidden mechanism similar to "status refresh".

For example, when Chen Ming was testing his strength in "Beast Mixed Martial Arts", he was exhausted from doing bench presses, but after adding attribute points to strength, the fatigue immediately subsided.

This means that attribute points are not only a means to strengthen the body, but may also serve as a "first aid kit" in critical moments.

In a country where you might encounter armed individuals offering free cigarettes even when you're just buying a pack at a convenience store, having these three attributes is like having an extra half-life.

Chen Ming decided to save the 1 skill point for now, since who knows what troubles he might encounter in his work and life.

……

In the following days, Chen Ming's life became a little calmer, and he didn't encounter anything unusual.

With Evans's help, he successfully completed the registration process with a private funeral company called "The Last Serenity".

The procedures were not complicated. You just signed a few words, pressed a few fingerprints, and received a set of black uniforms that looked decent.

But the cost of this only became truly apparent when Chen Ming sat in the Chinese restaurant next door, staring blankly at the fried dumplings.

"A 30% commission on distribution channels, a 10% loss fee, plus withholding federal and state taxes..."

Looking at the salary structure sheet he had just received, Chen Ming felt that even the meat filling in his mouth had a sour taste.

"If I followed this perfectly legitimate procedure, I'd work myself to the bone transporting the body and only get 150 dollars? That's outrageous!"

"Welcome to the civilized world, Chen."

Sofia, sitting opposite, was elegantly handling the General Tso chicken in front of her.

"You think there are perfect examples everywhere, people who have no identity, no one to claim them, and you can do whatever you want with them? That's like winning the lottery, not everyday life."

"In this industry, 90% of the jobs are these kinds of tedious, low-profit but compliant work."

Sophia pointed to the new employee badge that Chen Ming had placed on the table.

"Without this skin, if you were pulled over by the police while driving a car containing a corpse, the consequences wouldn't just be a fine, but being sent to Lexington Jail to pick up soap for illegally profiting from corpses and desecrating corpses... the minimum sentence would be twenty years."

"Furthermore, you'd better find yourself a side hustle."

Sofia took a sip of tea and then spoke.

"The downtime in this line of work is very long. You need to have a business that can be transferred to cover your cash flow... The IRS people have a keen sense of smell. You can't exactly tell them that your tuition fees were picked up from dead people, can you?"

"Car wash, laundromat...any business with high cash flow will do."

Chen Ming nodded in deep agreement.

In the United States, these IRS officials are even more troublesome than the FBI; the infamous Al Capone was brought down by them.

"Then let's get a food truck."

After thinking for a moment, Chen Ming suddenly blurted out a sentence.

"puff--"

Sofia spat out the cheap tea she had just drunk, but luckily Chen Ming reacted quickly and grabbed the menu to shield his face; otherwise, her newly issued uniforms would have been soiled before she even started working.

"A food truck?"

"Chen, you're a corpse collector! You plan to spend your days hauling away chunks of meat that only maggots would like, and then at night make tacos and hot dogs for the living?"

"This kind of plot would be too perverted even in a third-rate Hollywood horror movie... If your customers knew what those hands had touched, they would throw up on the spot."

"If I don't tell, and you don't tell, how will anyone know?"

Chen Ming calmly put down the menu and took a tissue to wipe the water stains on the table.

"I had no choice. Car washes require space and expensive wastewater treatment equipment, and those broken machines in self-service laundromats break down every now and then. The repair costs alone are a headache... and I don't know anything about mechanical repair."

At this point, Chen Ming shrugged.

"After all is said and done, the only skill I can really offer is cooking. I can get a used food truck, get a health permit, park it on the side of the road, and start operating... perfect."

Sophia looked at Chen Ming with an extremely complicated expression, and after a long while, she shook her head helplessly.

"Whatever, I definitely won't be going there."

"Really?" Chen Ming blinked.

"I'm quite confident in my cooking skills... and we have a good relationship, so I can give you a 30% discount."

"Absolutely not. I'd rather jump off the Federal Bank building than eat your cooking..."