America: Starting from collecting corpses, leveling up to godhood

Carter didn't speak again until a full five seconds had passed.

"Are you kidding me...? You think you're filming 'John Wick' where you take out a dozen heavily armed security guards and an entire bulletproof manor all by yourself?!"

"I'm serious."

"...Do as you please, but don't cause any trouble for the next two weeks. I don't want to get dragged into this!"

"Beep—beep—beep—"

The call was abruptly ended.

Chen Ming innocently pursed his lips, pulled the blanket over his head, and planned to make up for the sleep he missed last night.

These days, people's hearts are truly unpredictable; no one believes the truth anymore.

But Chen Ming only slept for three hours before getting up.

He had to admit that Carter was right; he had indeed made a huge fuss this time—the LAPD might be useless, but adding the FBI made all the difference, and he needed to lay low for a while.

Moreover, compared to bullets flying all over the world, the IRS is actually more deadly.

Victor paid him a deposit of 100,000, and about half of it was still left. With the various stolen goods on hand and Chen Ming's own savings, he now had a large sum of dirty money that needed to be laundered. If he relied solely on selling fried rice from his food truck to make ends meet, it would probably take him several years...

Pushing open the door, I saw Sophia frantically typing on her keyboard in front of the computer screen, with two cups of takeout coffee on the table.

"Did you watch the morning news?" Sophia looked at Chen Ming with some suspicion.

"A Los Angeles Fire Department spokesperson said there was a massive explosion at a suburban mansion last night due to aging natural gas pipelines... This can't be related to you, can it?"

"I don't know... but the reason for this accident is quite good. I really have to thank California for its terrible infrastructure."

The tote bag Chen Ming brought back last night was thrown on the table.

"What is this?"

"An ivory pocket watch, an Arabian dagger inlaid with rubies, and other trinkets." He pulled out a chair and sat down.

Sofia leaned over and opened the handbag, only to gasp in shock after taking one look.

"My God, was that natural gas explosion on the morning news really your doing?!" she whispered.

"Did you steal a Middle Eastern sheikh's display case?"

"I just lit a fire." Chen Ming picked up the Starbucks on the table without any hesitation.

"Can I exchange it for cash?"

Sofia gripped the Arabic dagger, the ruby ​​gleaming brightly in the reflection of the computer screen.

"It's difficult... If you list it on Craigslist as a second-hand item, or take it to a pawn shop in Compton, the black guys will at most be willing to trade it for a few bags of marijuana and a few hundred dollars in change."

"Can't you handle the Los Angeles black market?" Chen Ming asked, somewhat puzzled.

"The black market dealers are even more cunning than Wall Street tycoons. The more eager you are to sell, the more they will drive the price down to rock bottom." Sophia put the dagger back in her bag.

"These kinds of artworks or antiques can only fetch high prices if they are sent to auction houses."

"Is this really necessary?"

"That's just how it is. Whether it's Sotheby's or Christie's, or those private appraisal firms in Beverly Hills, these suit-wearing vampires monopolize the pricing power of artworks."

Sofia spread her hands and pouted.

"The authenticity of an antique does not depend on the antique itself, but on who issued the certificate of authenticity for it."

"Only when experts from large institutions, wearing white gloves, nod and define it as a historical treasure rather than a counterfeit produced in a small workshop can it be sold for millions of dollars and then auctioned off to wealthy people who then donate it to their private museums to offset their personal income tax... It's a complete industry chain."

"But reputable auction houses will check the provenance of the items," Chen Ming frowned.

"You're right, they need complete provenance records and certificates," Sofia said with a helpless expression.

"You can't exactly tell them you dug this out of the house of some mob boss who just got blown up, can you?"

"So your suggestion is to throw them into the Pacific Ocean?"

"My suggestion is to find an anonymous underground safe and freeze these hot potatoes for a few months," Sophia said, pushing the handbag back to Chen Ming.

"Once the FBI and LAPD buzz dies down, you can directly contact some private collectors, Silicon Valley tech upstarts who made their fortunes in cryptocurrency, or Hollywood producers who love these underground treasures with no provenance." Sophia raised her eyebrows.

"By bypassing the auction house and trading directly off-exchange, you can save at least 20% of the commission."

Chen Ming nodded thoughtfully and tossed the bag onto the sofa beside him.

"Besides, I have tens of thousands of dollars in cash on hand, plus my previous savings, which I also need to get rid of quickly. I rely entirely on selling fried rice from the food truck, and even if I swing the wok until it smokes every day, I still can't explain the surge in cash flow..."

"Indeed, the tax bureau works much harder to investigate tax evasion than the major crimes unit investigates serial killers."

Sofia turned her swivel chair around, crossed her legs, and began to analyze the situation.

"Usually, the best way to launder large amounts of cash is to take over a laundromat, car wash, or strip club. These legal cash-intensive businesses are the easiest to book. But if you don't want to deal with coins, soapy water, and cheap perfume every day..."

"The fastest and safest option is to book two tickets to Las Vegas right now."

"Money laundering in casinos?" Chen Ming immediately understood what she meant.

"That's right, a completely legal and compliant old-fashioned craft." Sophia snapped her fingers.

"Exchange your old banknotes for chips in the VIP room of MGM or Bellagio, then play a few rounds at the roulette or blackjack table, just consider it a few percent loss fee."

"Then you can take the remaining chips to the counter, tell the manager you don't want to carry tens of thousands of dollars in cash, and ask the casino to issue you a proper bank draft..."

"Then this money can be considered my legal income, which I won by sheer luck," Chen Ming continued.

"That's right. After paying the federal gambling tax as required, you can freely deposit the rest of the money into the bank."

At this point, Sofia's fingers flew across the screen, quickly switching to a flight booking webpage.

"Southwest Airlines has direct flights to Las Vegas at 3:30 PM. Two tickets would only cost a few hundred dollars, and booking two nights in a hotel wouldn't cost much either..."

"Why are there two?" Chen Ming asked Sophia, puzzled.

"Hey, that's not very interesting." Sophia turned around and looked at Chen Ming with a resentful expression.

"We're friends, for goodness' sake. You've made so much money, and I'm helping you come up with ideas to get rid of them, but you won't even take me out for two nights?"

"I'm just worried that you might get carried away and lose all your money, and then go down a path of no return..." Chen Ming chuckled.

"How could that be? Every penny I have is hard-earned. How could I possibly lose all my hard-earned money?" Sophia retorted, pursing her lips in dissatisfaction.

"If that's the case, you're allowed to knock me out and carry me away halfway through."