America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

Chen Ming stepped forward and knocked on the heavy cabinet door.

It's a solid manganese steel product from Germany, at least ten inches thick.

Chen Ming shook his head.

Even if you plastered C4 on it, it might not explode. And if it did explode, it would burn everything inside to ashes...

He decisively abandoned the tempting but troublesome lump of iron and turned to search other parts of the study.

Victor's mahogany desk drawer was locked, but Chen Ming easily kicked it open, revealing several account books and a gold-plated M1911 pistol.

Chen Ming casually tucked the pistol into his back waistband, his gaze sweeping over the display shelf that had not been affected by the fire.

Several exquisite little items were displayed on the shelf.

"It looks like a medieval ivory-carved pocket watch... and this ruby-set Arabian dagger, the taste is really good."

Without any hesitation, Chen Ming swept these small, portable, and valuable art pieces into his handbag.

Finally, he also pulled out a Ferrari car key from the drawer—although the car wouldn't be easy to drive away, it would be nice to keep it as a souvenir.

Just then, the faint sound of police sirens could be heard from the distant highway.

Chen Ming glanced at his phone.

Almost fifty minutes had passed since the violent explosion in the main living room. The commotion and flames were enough to prompt passersby to call the police dozens of times.

Although LAPD's response is slow, it is not a tortoise.

"It's time to leave."

Chen Ming picked up his bag, jumped off the second-floor balcony, and quickly walked through the messy courtyard back to the truck.

"Goodbye, Victor... May you have a perfect collection room even in hell."

Chen Ming shifted into Drive and floored the accelerator.

A few minutes later, an LAPD patrol car with flashing red and blue lights sped past him and headed straight for Victor's private estate.

……

After driving back to the city along the Pacific Coast Highway, the night breeze finally dispelled the pungent smell of gunpowder on Chen Ming.

When he returned to his apartment in Koreatown, he was even holding a barbecue roll he bought on the street, which didn't look like he had just finished a large-scale gunfight.

"Coming back so late at night, have you finally figured it out and learned how to go to bars?"

Sofia was sitting cross-legged on the sofa enjoying a sausage pizza, while a serial killer documentary was playing on the television screen, perfectly fitting the occasion.

She sniffed and complained without looking up.

"You reek of barbecue, mixed with... dust?"

"I went to meet a big client." Chen Ming casually closed the door.

"Went to another rich person's party?" Sophia scoffed, looking Chen Ming up and down after taking her eyes off the TV.

"You look like you've just rolled around on the beach... How about that, are rich people easy to deal with?"

"They're alright, quite enthusiastic."

As Chen Ming spoke, he took off his outer garment, immediately revealing his black bulletproof vest.

Several completely deformed bullets were embedded in the bulletproof plate on his chest, the surrounding fibers torn into a tangled mess, and there were even large areas of charred burn marks...

"Clatter".

Sofia dropped the half-pizza she was holding onto the carpet.

Her eyes widened, and she stammered for a long time.

"You...you...you went to Ukraine on a business trip?"

"No, but these were definitely done by the Russians."

Chen Ming took off his bulletproof vest and casually tossed it onto the coffee table.

"My client was an old pervert who liked corpses, so I just sent him to where corpses belonged, that's all."

After saying that, Chen Ming yawned and casually grabbed the half-empty bottle of mineral water on the table. Like an ordinary worker who had just finished his nine-to-five job, he naturally pushed open the bedroom door.

"I'm going to sleep now. Also, don't touch that bulletproof vest; it's covered in shards of bulletproof ceramic..."

"Bang."

The door closed, leaving only Sofia and the tattered bulletproof vest in the living room.

The documentary on TV was still dutifully playing its somber narration.

"These highly intelligent serial killers often possess extremely strong counter-surveillance awareness. They appear and disappear unpredictably and have an astonishing skill in disposing of corpses... In their daily lives, they even display great charm, are proficient in various life skills such as cooking, and perfectly integrate into society..."

Sophia stiffly turned her head, looked at the screen analyzing the psychopathic killer, and then looked at Chen Ming's tightly closed door.

He's elusive, deals with corpses, possesses terrifying combat skills and exceptional mental fortitude, is handsome, and is an excellent cook of Chinese food...

"A generous gift of crab..."

Sofia gasped sharply, suddenly finding the sausage pizza in her hand suddenly tasteless.

……

Early the next morning.

As usual, the Los Angeles sun streamed through the blinds, and the roar of the sanitation department's garbage trucks dumping their giant bins drifted in from outside, interspersed with the incoherent shouts and curses of homeless people in Koreatown.

Chen Ming had a rough night, but before he could get a good night's sleep, he was woken up by the vibration of his phone, which was lying on the bedside table.

He frowned, reached for his phone, and pressed the answer button.

"It's only 7:30 in the morning. If it's a car insurance salesman, I'll crawl over to the signal, shove your head down the toilet, and then sell your body to the Army Experimentation Center to eat landmines..."

"It's me, Chen."

Carter's voice came from the other end of the phone.

The former U.S. military officer’s tone was extremely complex at this moment, as if he had just swallowed a whole lemon.

"I know you're capable, but I really didn't expect you to be so... troublesome."

"What exactly did you do before? My night shift security guard at headquarters is acting strangely now, he's seen an unkillable ghost, and he wants to quit and go back to his hometown in Texas to farm."

Chen Ming rolled over and rubbed his eyes.

"That's because he lacked physical training and a materialistic education."

"Is this a matter of lack of education?!" Carter's voice couldn't help but rise a little.

"And what about Victor? You actually killed him and everyone on his estate, and even detonated a bomb? This is on the front page of the Los Angeles Times, you know? The entire city's police force has gone crazy!"

"What are you thinking?!" Carter gasped on the other end of the phone.

"That old fox Victor has at least a dozen fully armed Russian-American veterans with him. You're leading an entire tactical squad in a direct assault? Do you think they won't be able to find the shell casings, tire tracks, and communication frequencies?!"

"The FBI and LAPD aren't blind. With such a huge commotion, your team will definitely leave a trace!"

Chen Ming could only hold his phone a little further away to avoid having his eardrums ruptured by Carter's roar.

"Relax, there's no tactical team involved, no tailings, and much of the information was provided to the reporters by me."

"What do you mean?"

"It means that I was the only one from beginning to end." Chen Ming buried his face in the pillow.

"I went alone, killed alone, and blew up alone, so the LAPD and FBI definitely wouldn't be able to find out or even think of it."

The phone went silent instantly.