Dual Transmigration: American Prison, Surviving to a Fantasy Development Stage

Lin Feng took the phone and casually glanced at the landscape painting, noting its grand composition.

His brushwork is skillful and mature, demonstrating considerable ability, but his artistic conception is lacking, so he cannot be considered a master.

Return the phone to Guo Lin.

"So that's how it is."

But I'd rather not write anything; I have neither the interest nor the time.

Guo Lin wasn't surprised: "Okay, boss, I understand."

She didn't actually have high hopes.

Five hundred thousand is a huge sum of money that ordinary people can't accumulate in a lifetime, but for Lin Feng, it's not even a fraction of it.

A casino's net profit is tens of millions of US dollars a day; that money could easily buy a few packs of cigarettes.

Guo Lin turned and left, gently closing the door behind her.

Lin Feng leaned back in his chair and scrolled through a few videos on his phone.

He found that short video platforms abroad were indeed not very interesting, with content that was all the same: either showing off wealth, showing off pets, or filming some boring challenges.

Compared to the diverse and imaginative content available domestically, it falls far short.

At noon, there was a knock on the office door, and Sarah brought in a brown paper envelope.

"What is this?"

"I don't know, it was delivered by courier, you can open it and take a look," Sarah said curiously.

Lin Feng opened it and found a brand new FBI badge inside.

The hard cover is dark blue with a gold-stamped badge; inside is his photo, name, title, and embossed seal.

"FBI Special Agent Lin Feng."

He read it aloud and couldn't help but laugh.

The documents are incredibly realistic, with clear embossed seals, barcodes, and anti-counterfeiting watermarks—they're exactly the same as the real thing.

He held it in his hand and weighed it in his hand; it was quite heavy.

Salad: "It's an FBI badge?"

"Just something to play with"

Sarah then added, "Oh, by the way, Anna's flight has landed and she'll be at the airport in about forty minutes."

The private jet was parked at the business jet terminal at McCarran International Airport; I sent someone to pick her up.

"I'll go, I have nothing else to do anyway."

Sarah replied, "OK, Anna came for you anyway."

Lin Feng put his ID into the inside pocket of his coat, picked up his car keys, and went downstairs.

Lin Feng was still driving that blue Bugatti Tourbillon.

He got in, started the engine, and the deep roar echoed in the empty garage.

Even in Las Vegas, a place teeming with supercars, the Bugatti Tourbillon stands out strikingly.

Limited edition worldwide, priced at over four million US dollars, there are only a handful in the entire city.

The return rate is still very high.

Upon arriving at the airport's business jet terminal, Lin Feng parked his car next to the VIP lane and waited by leaning against the car door.

A short while later, a tall figure walked out of the terminal.

Anna was wearing a fitted black trench coat over a white shirt and dark trousers, paired with pointed high heels. Sunglasses covered half her face.

But it still couldn't hide her cool and capable demeanor.

When she saw Lin Feng, she quickened her pace, pushed up her sunglasses to reveal her blue eyes, and couldn't help but smile.

Upon approaching, without saying a word, she wrapped her arms around Lin Feng's neck and gave him a passionate kiss.

"Lin, I didn't expect you to come pick me up."

Anna released him, a rare smile on her face.

Lin Feng opened the car door and casually said, "I had nothing better to do anyway, so I thought I'd just go for a drive."

Anna rolled her eyes at him: "Can't you say something nicer?"

For example, saying things like "I miss you."

"Stop dawdling, get in the car." Lin Feng ignored him and got straight into the driver's seat.

Anna pursed her lips, but the smile in her eyes deepened: "I just enjoy your rudeness."

She bent down and sat in the passenger seat, closed the door, and the Bugatti let out a low growl, like an arrow released from a bow.

The highways outside Las Vegas are straight and empty, with desert and scattered cacti on both sides, offering a wide view and a clear blue sky.

Anna sat in the passenger seat, her right hand restlessly placed on Lin Feng's thigh, rubbing it back and forth through his pants, her fingertips carrying a teasing meaning.

Lin Feng glanced at her and said indifferently, "Don't be so flirtatious, I'm really not interested right now."

Anna pouted, "Were you drained dry by those eight bitches?"

"Them?" Lin Feng scoffed.

"Even if another hundred came, we couldn't hold on."

"How could a few pheasants possibly exploit all my skills?"

Anna slapped him on the shoulder: "You're bragging."

The car stopped at an intersection waiting for the red light.

A black Cadillac CT6 was parked side-by-side in the adjacent lane, its massive chrome wheels gleaming in the sunlight.

Judging from the looks of it, he should be a Didi driver.

A white woman was in the driver's seat, and a black man in his twenties, wearing a gold chain and a loose sweatshirt, was in the passenger seat.

There was another Black man in the back seat, wearing a baseball cap and looking down at his phone.

The Black man in the passenger seat couldn't help but glance at the Bugatti parked in the adjacent lane.

When he saw an Asian face in the driver's seat and a tall, beautiful white woman in the passenger seat, his expression instantly changed, and a smirk appeared on his lips.

He whistled loudly towards Lin Feng, then circled his fingers and put them in his mouth, letting out two strange cries.

"Wow, that car's really cool. Hey Asian kid, can I borrow it for a bit? It has to be a supercar! And this chick's got a hot body too!"

Anna's face darkened, and just as she was about to speak, Lin Feng pushed open the car door and got out.

He strode over to the Cadillac and knocked on the window.

The female driver looked a little confused, rolled down all the windows, and looked at him questioningly: "Is something wrong?"

Lin Feng pulled the FBI badge from his inner pocket, unfolded it in front of her, showing her the photo and badge. His face was stern, his tone cold and hard:

"The FBI is investigating a case. Please cooperate by showing your driver's license, vehicle registration, and insurance policy."

The female driver was stunned for a moment. "No way, really? The FBI drives supercars? And you're not in uniform?"

"Do you dare question the FBI's law enforcement?"

"Okay, just a moment," she said, looking for her identification.

"No, no, no." Lin Feng interrupted her, his gaze passing over her and landing on the black man in the passenger seat. He raised his chin and said, "I'm talking about him."

The black man in the passenger seat looked completely innocent, spreading his hands: "I'm not the driver, I didn't drive, I'm just sitting here."

Lin Feng's face darkened. "Fuck you, how dare you resist law enforcement?"

Without saying a word, he reached his right hand behind his waist and grabbed a black Glock pistol, its dark muzzle pointed at the passenger's head through the car window.

He twirled the gun in his hand, then pointed it steadily at the man's forehead.

"Get out here."

Old Hei's expression changed instantly, and his voice became several decibels higher:

"What crime did I commit? I really didn't do anything!"

"Get down here right now! Or we'll shoot!"

Old Black in the passenger seat obediently pushed open the car door, raised his hands, and got out of the car.

Seeing this, the black man in the back seat didn't dare to stay seated anymore. He also got out, raised his hands, and kept saying:

"It's a misunderstanding, all a misunderstanding!"

We're students, students at the University of Las Vegas! We didn't do anything!

Lin Feng, too lazy to listen to explanations, pointed his gun at the two men and said, "Shut up, you fucking kneel down."

The two black men exchanged a glance, and seeing Lin Feng's unquestionable expression and the real weapon in his hand, their legs went weak, and they both knelt on the scorching asphalt.

The female driver next to her turned pale with fright and reached for her phone to take a picture as evidence.

Lin Feng glanced at the gun out of the corner of his eye, flicked his wrist, and a gunshot rang out.

The bullet hit the phone screen precisely, blasting it into a pile of broken plastic and glass shards.

The female driver screamed, clutched her wrist, and pulled back, too afraid to move again.