America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

As soon as Chen Ming got back to his car after leaving the lab building, he dialed the number Evans had given him.

The call was answered quickly.

Chen Ming didn't waste any words, getting straight to the point by identifying himself and briefly explaining the mess Evans was currently facing—including the blackmail recording from the 18th Street gang and the investigation by a Los Angeles Times reporter, etc.

To Chen Ming's surprise, his senior brother Sean on the other end of the phone did not show any panic or anger. He simply gave Chen Ming an address in the movie theater and asked him to meet him for a detailed discussion.

This calmness made Chen Ming realize that this "senior brother" he had never met was probably a ruthless character—he probably had already thought this day would come.

……

Located in the southeast corner of the San Fernando Valley, just a hill away from Hollywood, the film studio is a preferred residence for many second-tier stars and industry executives who do not want to be harassed by paparazzi.

While not as luxurious as Beverly Hills, this place offers excellent privacy and is equally expensive.

Half an hour later, Chen Ming's food truck stopped in front of a single-story villa.

A typical Californian mid-century modern style, with large glass curtain walls cleverly concealed by hedges, ensuring natural light while preventing peeping.

A silver-gray Porsche 911 was parked at the entrance, its paint gleaming coldly in the setting sun.

The door opened, and a white man in his early thirties, wearing a dark blue cashmere cardigan and gold-rimmed glasses, walked out. His hair was neatly combed.

"Back the car in a little, so you don't block the neighbor's view."

Sean's voice was as steady as it was on the phone, with no discernible emotional fluctuations.

"Using a food cart as cover...that's a good idea, but there are a lot of retired filmmakers living in this community, and they hate seeing anything that doesn't fit the neighborhood's style."

Chen Ming did as instructed, then jumped out of the car and was led into the house by the other party.

The interior of the villa is decorated in a minimalist style, with extensive use of stainless steel and white marble, making it as clean as a private clinic waiting room.

At this moment, Chen Ming finally understood why Evans hesitated, but ultimately gave him Sean's contact information.

This senior brother is clearly doing very well, so he would never allow himself to be dragged into his past mess.

"Please make yourself at home. Aside from alcohol, I only have soda water here."

Sean went behind the bar, poured himself a glass of water, and then got straight to the point.

"So... the professor finally got himself into trouble because of his greed for small gains?"

"It's a little worse than that." Chen Ming sat down on the high chair.

"He wanted to pay $50,000 to buy peace with a low-level mob boss, but I suggested he stall him and let us handle it—trust those guys; they're probably less trustworthy than the president, who might even send himself to the sun with a cannon during a stock market crash..."

That makes sense.

Sean scoffed and swirled the wine in his glass.

"Feeding those greedy hyenas will only make them think the fat pig can be slaughtered a few more times... Your judgment is correct."

So what are your plans?

"Scarface chose an interesting location—the underground parking garage in the old campus."

"That place has been abandoned for a long time due to foundation subsidence. There are no surveillance cameras, no cell phone signal, and even homeless people don't want to spend the night there..."

"A typical execution site," Sean commented.

"Choosing this location was clearly intended to put pressure on the professor and avoid further investigation, but he forgot that enclosed spaces are fair to both hunter and prey... Are you planning to resort to force?"

"That's right." Chen Ming nodded.

"I'll have the professor bring some counterfeit money. Once we're sure the recording is on Scarface, we can just shoot him..."

The plan is very simple, but reality is not a Hollywood blockbuster or a novel. The more complicated the plan, the more likely it is to run into problems, while simple plans are more likely to succeed.

"The plan is feasible... As long as your hand is steady enough, bullets can indeed solve most problems."

Sean nodded, not denying Chen Ming's plan, and turned to walk towards the hidden safe behind the bookshelf.

"But sometimes relying solely on guns is too crude... What if we need to ask some questions, or we don't want to make a mess of brains that are difficult to clean up? At least I don't like being in the sight of the police."

As the cabinet door popped open, rows and rows of medical supplies and disposable syringes were revealed inside.

Sean skillfully grabbed two bottles and tossed them to Chen Ming.

"Take it."

Chen Ming took it and glanced at the label.

Succinylcholine, midazolam...

Muscle relaxants combined with strong sedatives?

"A favorite of Beverly Hills plastic surgeons, we also call it 'Good Boy Water'..."

"One injection would paralyze even a bull within ten seconds, but the person would remain conscious. This is perfect for getting a stubborn person to talk. A slightly increased dose afterwards can create the illusion of cardiac arrest, which is very difficult to detect in an autopsy."

Immediately afterwards, he threw over a small black nylon bag.

"There's super duct tape, several sterile scalpels, and a portable signal jammer in here... I prepared this to prevent some people from secretly filming me on the operating table. It's more than enough to deal with petty thugs."

"It seems your skills haven't waned at all, senior brother." Chen Ming was quite surprised to see such professional equipment.

"There's no way around it. Being a doctor in Hollywood isn't much different from what we used to do; it's all about making money by repairing and manipulating human bodies..."

Chen Ming carefully put away the nylon bag containing the prohibited drugs.

"These drugs are good, but if those guys act recklessly and start shooting... cleaning up the mess could be a real hassle."

"As long as there are no witnesses, there is no difference between a slaughterhouse and an operating room. The only trouble is dealing with the waste."

Sean pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, his tone calm.

"Don't worry about the bodies, I have a market for them."

"Sales channels?" Chen Ming immediately perked up.

"This place is home to a lot of psychologically twisted rich people whose quirks are as bottomless as their bank accounts."

"I have an old client, a Russian oligarch who lives in Malibu Beach... He is an extreme collector of human body art, especially obsessed with the style of Madame Tussauds, but he always feels that the wax figures are soulless and not vivid enough."

"If you can pack up Scarface and his men and ship them out intact and dispose of them properly, you won't have to worry about where to throw away this pile of rotten flesh. That pervert will also see you as his art patron and offer you a large sum of money."

"A wax figure... okay."

Chen Ming scratched his hair.

Although he had seen countless deaths, he still found it difficult to judge the extent of these wealthy men's depravity.

"Finally, there's one more technical issue."

Chen Ming pointed outside the door.

"My car is big enough, but it's not very fast... It would be troublesome if it alerted the police and I had to run away."