America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

"God, the LAPD will absolutely hate you then..."

"But this is the most effective method."

"That's true... after all, you're dealing with a freakish tycoon with several teams of bodyguards."

Michelle irritably ran her fingers through her hair, which was a sign of her giving in.

"Alright, do you need me to find someone to get you some weapons or something?"

"No need to trouble you, I have my own channels," Chen Ming refused outright.

"Are you sure this isn't as simple as just buying an AR15..." Michelle frowned.

"You need to have connections."

"There's really no need for that. Just mind your own exclusive reporting."

Chen Ming turned on his turn signal, and the food truck merged into the evening rush hour traffic.

……

After dropping Michelle off, Chen Ming pulled over and parked the food truck.

Stealing hundreds of pounds of wax figures from a security company headquarters is not the same as stealing takeout. Even if he can carry them by himself, he still needs someone to help him.

Having Michelle or Sofia accompany me is definitely not an option. Those two women wouldn't be of much help, whether driving or infiltrating, and in case of a firefight, I'd have to keep an eye on them…

The ideal candidate is Sean, but he is not short of money and does not want to get involved in this mess.

Chen Ming tapped the steering wheel with his fingertips, and suddenly an old face flashed through his mind.

He picked up his phone again and dialed another number.

"Sorry, the shooting range is currently closed for renovations. Please come back next Monday if you want to play..." A rough voice accompanied by country music came through the phone as soon as it was answered.

"Old Joe, it's me, Chen."

"Oh, it's you... Want to practice your shooting again?"

"No, I need a side job partner, tomorrow night."

"What side jobs? I'm a law-abiding, tax-paying citizen." Old Joe's voice became wary.

"I can teach you how to shoot, but don't drag me into anything else."

"I see... How have you been lately?" Seeing this, Chen Ming didn't continue to make suggestions, but instead began to probe indirectly.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by the sound of a news broadcast reporting another surge in California gas prices in the background.

"That's not good. Do you know how much a dozen eggs cost in the supermarket these days? I could make one out of copper and it wouldn't cost that much."

Old Joe took a deep breath.

"Business at the shooting range has been terrible lately, and my ex-wife, that bitch, contacted her lawyer again yesterday to demand alimony. Add to that the loans I took out before... I've already sold several guns."

"These must cost a lot of money, don't you really want to make a fortune?"

Upon hearing this, Chen Ming began to coax the other party.

"How about 20,000 yuan in cash? After paying off your ex-wife's lawyer, I can even replace all four bald tires on your pickup truck."

The sighs on the other end of the phone stopped.

"Chen, what exactly are you trying to do?" Old Joe muttered.

"Let me make it clear first, I don't rob banks or touch armored trucks. My bones can't withstand a police stun grenades..."

"Just get a security company to move a statue weighing a few hundred pounds, and you just need to meet me outside."

"Stealing from a security company? Are you crazy? That's practically suicide!"

"I'm prepared. You're in charge of providing support and getting a car, and I'll do the work." Chen Ming paused for a moment.

"Also, I need you to get me some C4 or high explosives for quarries, the kind with remote control or timed fuses, and preferably some heavy bulletproof vests or something... But these things aren't urgent, you can wait a couple of days."

"...Go to hell!" Old Joe coughed violently, as if he had choked on water.

"These days in California, you have to fill out a ton of forms just to buy a high-capacity ammunition magazine, and you want explosives and heavy body armor? Do you really think this is a Hollywood movie?!"

"Didn't you say you had a few old buddies in the mines in Nevada? Don't tell me you can't get them."

"If that's okay, I'll add another 10,000 yuan."

There was silence on the other end of the phone, followed by the sound of a lighter being lit.

Old Joe took a deep drag on his cigarette, his voice hoarse.

"40,000 yuan in cash, I want old bills."

"Then see you at midnight tomorrow night."

"No problem." Chen Ming hung up the phone.

……

The following night at midnight, in an open-air parking lot in North Hollywood.

A van with peeling paint pulled up right on time next to Chen Ming's food truck. The window rolled down, revealing Old Joe's face covered in gray stubble, with an unlit cigar dangling from his mouth.

"Half is paid in advance; here is 20,000 in cash."

Chen Ming opened the passenger door and tossed a thick brown paper bag onto the dashboard.

Old Joe picked up the paper bag, weighed it in his hand, opened it, and carefully inspected it for a long time before speaking, only after confirming that there was nothing wrong with the money.

"I've made the arrangements. The explosives and heavy bulletproof vests you requested should arrive in Los Angeles the day after tomorrow afternoon. They need to mix the explosives into the fertilizer pile in the pickup truck bed to fool the interstate checkpoints..."

"The timing is perfect." Chen Ming glanced at his phone.

"We're only moving things tonight."

"Where are we going?" Old Joe asked, his hands on the steering wheel.

"Let me make it clear beforehand, I'm just here to pick you up."

"Black Shield Security Headquarters on Santa Monica Boulevard."

"Cough cough—"

Old Joe almost dropped his lit cigar onto his crotch.

"You're going to mess with that lunatic Carter? His men are all retired Rangers and Navy SEALs. You might as well just rob a bank's armored truck!"

"I have a deal with him. Their security system and surveillance will be down for a while tonight... Park your car in the fire lane on the back street, and I'll get the stuff out the back door in ten minutes."

Old Joe stared at Chen Ming.

"What if it exceeds the time limit?"

"Don't worry, they'll be very cooperative tonight," Chen Ming said confidently.

"madman……"

Old Joe muttered a curse while chewing on his cigar, then shifted gears and drove off, while Chen Ming leaned back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes to rest.

1 a.m., Santa Monica Boulevard.

The truck turned into the back alley where the Black Shield Security headquarters was located and stopped next to the fire lane covered in graffiti.

"They will shut down the system precisely at two o'clock." Chen Ming glanced at his phone screen.

"I'll be out in ten minutes. Just wait for me. Once the stuff is in the car, we'll leave immediately."

"I hope your trade works, but don't expect this old man to rush in with a gun to save you... I'm not what I used to be."

Chen Ming didn't reply, but changed into a black outfit and put on a mask.

Two o'clock in the morning.

Chen Ming climbed over the rusty barbed wire fence on the wall and landed in the parking lot behind the building. Sure enough, he saw that the surrounding surveillance cameras were all turned off.

Carter certainly kept his word.

Chen Ming used the code provided by Carter to open the back door and enter the building. Only the dim emergency lights were still illuminating the corridor.

He silently made his way down the fire escape stairs to the private collection room on the second basement level, without any obstruction or even a single person in sight.

Pushing open the door to the collection room, a chilling French court-style wax figure stood dusty in the corner, a stark contrast to the well-maintained state of the other collectibles—clearly, Carter didn't like this thing.