The American kill line? I, a demon hunter, don't eat beef.

[Unbelievable, esteemed Witcher! You've used a despicable scheme to get the goblins to pay their due reward. Your quest reward is being calculated.]

[Spirit +0.1]

[Legendary Skill Fragment x1 has been sent to your inventory. Current progress: 2/5]

Zhou Feng's mental strength had reached a terrifying 1.5 at this moment. A clear and cool feeling flowed between his eyebrows, making him feel extremely comfortable.

His thinking and reaction speed have both improved dramatically.

Skid Row, 8 p.m.

After a long day of work, Mr. Zhou dragged his tired body back to the hotel apartment. After cleaning himself up, he collapsed heavily onto the bed.

It was too early to go to bed, so he called the front desk, paid ten dollars, and turned on the Wi-Fi in his room.

Zhou Feng was even a little excited after connecting his brand-new orange iPhone 17 to the internet.

I'm finally not a wild man who doesn't even have a cell phone anymore.

Zhou Feng lay on his side on the bed, opened TikTok, and started scrolling through short videos with great interest.

Just as he was engrossed in scrolling through videos, one video suddenly caught his attention—"Container Treasure Hunt."

This is an American reality TV show.

In the United States, many unclaimed containers appear at some ports every year.

Handling these containers would require a significant investment of labor costs, making it a completely unprofitable business for investors.

If they weren't dealt with, they would just take up space, so this program came about, which takes all those unclaimed containers and auctions them off.

It's like a giant blind box; what you get is entirely up to luck. That's why those who participate in the auction are called treasure hunters.

"This show is practically made for me!"

Zhou Feng jumped out of bed in excitement. For others, this game might be all about luck.

But for someone like me who has X-ray vision, I can tell at a glance whether the goods inside are treasures or junk, so it's impossible for me to lose money!

This is much more profitable than picking up trash.

The value of being a snob is still increasing!

Without saying a word, Zhou Feng immediately opened Google Chrome and began searching for information about treasure hunting in shipping containers.

It took some time, but I finally figured out their registration process.

First, you need to make an appointment on their homepage, and then go to the nearest container auction company to register in person.

Afterwards, you must go to the auction site, pay the full deposit, and only then can the auction take place.

It's worth noting that registration doesn't require providing identity information; only physical presence is needed, seemingly to protect the buyer's privacy.

Zhou Feng glanced at the list and discovered that there was an auction to be held at the Port of Los Angeles tomorrow.

It's 40 kilometers from Skid Row, and it takes about an hour to get there by subway.

A mere 40 kilometers is nothing compared to Dao Le'er's distance.

Zhou Feng quickly signed up for the appointment, then turned over and continued watching videos.

Perhaps because he was using the foreign version of Douyin, Zhou Feng watched a lot of foreign variety shows that he was familiar with before in one night.

For example: the Wilderness Survival Challenge series, Mr. Beast's various money-throwing challenges, car blind box treasure hunts...

This made Zhou Feng think for a moment: if he could use the system to participate in these programs, wouldn't the prize money be a piece of cake?

This seems like a promising project.

Zhou Feng became more and more excited as he thought about it, and couldn't help but laugh out loud. The days of not eating beef were just around the corner!

From that night on, a chilling urban legend emerged in the hotel—every midnight, a strange, grating laugh would be heard from room 202.

Some say they are the wronged spirits of the dead, while others say they are resurrected werewolves.

……

Los Angeles Police Department meeting room, 2 a.m.

The conference room was brightly lit, and although it was full of people, the atmosphere was incredibly oppressive.

At the head of the conference table, Director Brown Nick, his face grim and suppressing his anger, spoke in a cold voice.

"Intelligence Department, give a report to these idiots who only know how to eat donuts!"

The intelligence officers immediately stood up, spread out the intelligence in their hands, and spoke in a serious tone.

"Between 1 p.m. and 2 p.m. this afternoon, Constable Mike and Constable Myers received a report of a fight and went to the scene to investigate."

"Miles requested support from headquarters at 1:20 and 1:46 respectively, and was subsequently shot by the criminal Charlie Hanra."

"Officer Mike died on the spot, and Officer Miles was wounded in the arm. Fortunately, a passerby named LF intervened and used Officer Miles's pistol to wound Charlie, rendering him incapacitated."

"However, upon comparison, no citizen with the name LF was found in the federal census database to match the face of the passerby."

After the report was finished, the conference room fell into a deathly silence, broken only by Director Brown's cold voice.

"Do you know how those crazy people in the media think they'll report on us if this gets out?"

Brown tapped his fingers heavily on the conference table, scanning the group of mid-level police officers one by one, finally fixing his gaze on Miles, and speaking in a cold tone, word by word.

"A white man with a severe mental illness beat two stupid Los Angeles police officers, killing one and injuring the other, before being shot dead by a bystander who intervened."

Brown slammed his fist on the conference table and roared hysterically.

"Do you realize how much damage this will do to the police department's reputation!?"

"How can I apply for more funding from above!"

Brown's sudden outburst startled everyone in the conference room, who dared not even look up.

Seeing no one respond, Brown, with a fierce expression, pointed to Miles in the corner.

"You! Get out of here and clean police cars for three months, and find that passerby and make him shut his mouth!"

Upon hearing this, a flicker of fear crossed Miles's face; he knew the chief's temper.

If he didn't follow his orders, he would be fired the next day for stepping into the police station with his left foot.

So he gritted his teeth and agreed.

"The rest of you, meeting adjourned!"

"Yes, sir!"

……

After the meeting

Brown returned to the chief's office alone.

Close the door.

He loosened his tie forcefully, then hurriedly pulled a bag of white powder and a straw from his pocket.

... (Harmony Protection)

After a long while, Brown continued to foam at the mouth and slumped into the leather chair.

……

……

[Name: Zhou Feng]

[Wealth Points: 1650 Gold Coins (1 point = 1 US Dollar)]

[Strength: 1.1 (The constitution of a normal adult male in the Empire is 1)]

[Speed: 0.9]

[Spirit: 1.5]

[Health Points: 100% (Dude, you can outlive a turtle.)]

[Skills: Snobbishness, Demon Hunter's Fist, Eagle Eye]

[System Shop: Not Open]