America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

Chen Ming did not hesitate for long.

Instead of spreading resources evenly like sprinkling pepper, it's better to concentrate resources on improving one specific skill first.

His wisdom told him that the best way to persuade people in America was through physics, not reason.

Strength: 21 → 24

Soon, Chen Ming felt a warm current surge through his body, and his muscle fibers seemed to tighten slightly under his skin, full of tension.

That makes you stronger?

Chen Ming clenched his fist, the overwhelming sense of power making him very confident.

He turned around and punched the bathroom wall.

"Bang!"

Chen Ming withdrew his fist, grimaced, and shook his hand; the wall remained intact.

Obviously... life isn't a Hollywood movie.

The 3-point increase in strength did make his arms feel stronger, and the speed and explosiveness of his punches were visibly enhanced, but that was all.

We're still a long way from achieving the superhuman feat of pulling a helicopter by hand.

"A lack of quantitative analysis is a major taboo in scientific research..."

As a medical student, Chen Ming quickly calmed down from his illusory sense of inflated ego.

Relying solely on subjective feelings to assess physical function is too unreliable. This idea that "I feel stronger" can easily lead to misjudgment in actual combat, resulting in being killed.

I need to buy a hand gripper or a resistance meter to record baseline data before adding more weight next time, and then conduct a comparative test.

After much deliberation, Chen Ming allocated his remaining skill point to driving skills.

The job I'm going to be doing will definitely require me to drive around a lot, and driving skills will be essential, whether it's escaping danger or avoiding accidents.

Exhausted after doing all this, Chen Ming went to the newly tidied second bedroom and fell asleep immediately.

He slept very soundly until noon when he was awakened by a knock on the door.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty, the sun's already high in the sky!"

Chen Ming groggily finished washing up and came to the living room, where Sophia was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, with half a pizza in her mouth, fiddling with her laptop.

"You're awake. There's a burrito on the table; it's on me."

Chen Ming sat down and took a bite; the spicy sauce instantly awakened his taste buds.

While eating, he asked the question that concerned him most.

"So how exactly do we do this job? Professor Evans didn't go into details last night."

"Don't overcomplicate it, it's actually pretty much the same as buying goods from Costco."

Sofia turned the computer screen toward him; it displayed a densely packed table.

"Evans is the purchasing manager. The pharmaceutical companies and laboratories are responsible for issuing demand orders—for fresh liver, diseased tissue, or complete samples..."

"We take the orders, we pick up the goods, we deliver them, and we collect the money."

"Of course, if you find high-value 'samples,' you can send them directly; there's always a shortage in this industry..."

"However, that's all I know."

Sofia licked the sauce off her fingers.

"I'm just a day laborer who makes quick money... I sell my information to Evans, and occasionally help with shipping, that's all."

"What if I want to expand?"

Chen Ming put down the crepe in his hand, his expression serious.

Limited order placement alone might not be enough to fill the $50,000 hole, not to mention he didn't know where to find "goods" that met the requirements.

"Then you can't just sit there like a vulture, waiting to eat carrion."

Sofia closed her laptop, becoming unusually serious.

"You need to build your own network—night shift nurses at hospices, front desk staff at budget motels, even cleaning staff at nursing homes and homeless people in the sewers… You need these people to be your eyes and ears."

"When someone is dying or about to die, you must be the first person they think of."

"In return for saving my life, I'll take you to some places with plenty of supplies in the next few days and teach you how to deal with informants."

……

One hour later.

Chen Ming's old Corolla, like an inconspicuous gray catfish, slid smoothly into the intricate streets of Boyle Heights.

This is another side of Los Angeles—the air is filled with the smells of roasted corn, cheap spices, and engine oil.

Spanish signs are often larger than English ones, and walls covered in graffiti of the Virgin Mary are often right next to gang territory markers.

Street vendors pushing carts can be seen everywhere, along with groups of Latino youths wearing vests and showing off their large tattoos.

They would scrutinize every unfamiliar vehicle that drove by with wary eyes, especially unfamiliar faces like Chen Ming.

"Don't be nervous. Although it's chaotic here, you're usually safe as long as you don't owe them money or sleep with their women."

Sofia leisurely trimmed her nails with nail clippers.

"This area has the largest number of undocumented immigrants in all of Los Angeles. For them, encountering ICE is more terrifying than encountering a ghost... After someone dies, they prefer to hire 'professionals' like us to handle it discreetly."

"Turn left ahead, there's a red apartment building... Slow down, it's a one-way street!"

"I know."

Chen Ming jerked the steering wheel, using his newly enhanced driving skills to maneuver the Corolla into the alley at an extremely tricky angle, barely avoiding an oncoming truck.

The car came to a stop close to the wall, less than two centimeters away from a black man taking a nap next to it.

Wow.

Sofia whistled.

"You're really good at this... It seems you're not just a bookworm who only knows how to study; you're improving very quickly!"

Chen Ming automatically filtered out her lewd jokes, turned off the engine, removed the key, and turned his gaze to the apartment building outside the window.

"So, the phone call last night came from here?"

"That's right, a snakehead on the third floor."

"He said he had a good one who died right after crossing the border. He was young and strong, and had some kind of rare albinism. His skin was as white as snow."

"Many labs love these kinds of unusual specimens; if the body were still alive, it would be worth at least three thousand dollars."

"Won't his family mind?" Chen Ming asked, somewhat puzzled.

"Of course they'll mind, but they also need money to survive—if they're still alive."

Sofia opened the door and got out of the car, with Chen Ming following beside her.

There were no lights in the hallway, and the air was filled with a mixture of the acrid smell of burning leaves and the stench of stale urine.

Two thin, elderly Mexicans were squatting at the corner of the stairs on the second floor, grilling something with tin foil. When they saw the two people coming upstairs, one of them held the filthy smoke in his hand even tighter.

"Don't look them in the eye."

"Here, if you make eye contact with a stranger for more than three seconds, it means you're either a policeman or someone trying to steal your business... Either way, you could get shot."

Chen Ming nodded.

On the third floor, the environment became even more crowded, with strollers, tires, and plastic buckets containing unidentified liquids piled up on both sides of the corridor.

Sofia skillfully navigated around a pile of garbage bags and stopped in front of the iron gate at the end of the corridor.

"Thump, thump-thump, thump."

A few seconds later, the observation hole on the door was suddenly pulled open.

"Who?"

"The pizza delivery guy added double cheese and mustard for you."

Sofia gave the middle finger to the observation hole.

"It's me, Sophia. I'm here to inspect the goods."

"Who's that next to you? Your boyfriend?"

"No, we're just living together..."

"You're too late."

The iron gate opened, revealing a fat man wearing a large gold chain.

"Two hours ago, someone paid him 600 yuan in cash and carried him away with his bag."