Dual-wielding! 100x proficiency, I'll grind my way to godhood!

In the evening, Ghost went to UCLA to pick up Lily, Amy, and Sophia and bring them to the manor.

The black Lincoln came to a steady stop at the entrance of the estate. Roman columns stood tall, the fountain shimmered in the twilight, and a breeze carried the scent of grass and trees.

As soon as Amy, Sophia, and Lily got off the bus, they looked up and were immediately stunned, their mouths agape, unable to close them for a long time.

They really didn't expect that Chen Mo's place could be so extravagant.

Dinner was exquisite, with steak and red wine served.

But it didn't suit Chen Mo's taste. He'll change the chefs tomorrow; Chinese food is still the best.

Halfway through the meal, Amy couldn't hold back any longer and cautiously asked:

"Chen, how much does this manor actually cost?"

He picked up a well-done steak with his chopsticks, took a bite, and said casually:

"Not much, less than two hundred million US dollars."

The three girls looked at each other, completely stunned by the number.

After dinner, we went to English class as usual.

Having learned from last night's experience, everyone was very relaxed tonight, speaking loudly.

As soon as the course ended, the three of them were so exhausted that they fell asleep immediately.

late at night.

Sam's truck arrived at the back gate of the manor, and several of his men carried the wooden crates into the underground warehouse.

After everyone else left, Chen Mo went inside alone and put all the weapons into his storage ring.

The next morning.

Ghost appeared at the manor gate on time, dressed in a dark gray custom-made suit, Oxford shoes, and carrying a briefcase.

After the two got into the car, Ghost spread out a folder inside.

Inside are property documents for Beverly Hills Estate, copies of self-defense evidence from the beach shooting, gun licenses, and more.

"Boss, the police detectives this morning might try all sorts of methods to target you; every question they ask is a trap. I already have evidence, so you don't need to answer them; I will."

Chen Mo leaned back in his seat and put a cigarette in his mouth.

"Go for it, I trust your professional skills."

The car was parked in front of the police station.

The two exchanged a glance, the driver opened the car door for Chen Mo, and Ghost straightened his tie.

trial room.

Hoffman sat across from the interrogation table, a thick folder spread out in front of him.

He didn't speak immediately, but instead took out the photos from the folder one by one and arranged them neatly in front of Chen Mo.

The first image is an aerial view of Santa Monica Beach, showing twenty bodies lying haphazardly on the sand, with spent shell casings scattered all over the ground.

The second document is a copy of the weapons procurement list.

Hoffman pointed to the first photograph and tapped it lightly twice with his finger.

"Santa Monica Beach, twenty gunmen all died at your hands."

Move your finger to the second photo.

"Mr. Chen, what exactly are you doing in the United States?"

The ghost answered for Chen Mo:

"This was a legitimate self-defense response by my client when his life was directly threatened. The surveillance evidence has been submitted, and there are no procedural disputes."

Hoffman smiled, pulled the weapons procurement list from the bottom of the folder, pressed it down with his finger, and pushed it in front of Chen Mo.

"Is it necessary to carry a Gatling gun and a rocket launcher in self-defense?"

He tapped the "Gatling" option twice with his finger, then looked up at Chen Mo.

"Who are you planning to use these things against?"

Ghost did not wait for Chen Mo's response.

He raised his hand and pressed down on the list, turning it so that it faced Hoffman.

"My client is the legal owner of a nearly $200 million estate in Beverly Hills and holds the highest level of private security license in Los Angeles."

Under California law, the legal possession of any type of Class A weapon does not require registration with the police for intended use.

Detective Hoffman, your question itself infringes upon my client's legal rights.

Hoffman slowly withdrew his hand from the list.

He looked at the ghost, paused for two seconds, and then turned to look at Chen Mo.

"Mr. Chen, you have no family, no friends, and no connections in the United States. It would be better for you to tell the truth."

Chen Mo took the cigarette out of his mouth.

This was the first time he had spoken voluntarily since entering the interrogation room.

"Detective, what kind of background and friends do you want? I have over a billion dollars; I can find whatever type you need."

In America, if you have money, you can do almost anything.

"My lawyer is sitting right here. If that's not enough, I can buy the entire law firm."

He flicked away the ash and looked at the ghost.

"Saul, how much did it cost to buy your law firm?"

"Boss, this isn't cheap; it'll probably cost around 20 billion US dollars."

Chen Mo took a drag of his cigarette.

"It's indeed not cheap; it's only a little over a billion now, and they've already defaulted on more than three billion. But it's not a big problem; making two hundred billion shouldn't be difficult. You can talk to your partner about this later."

"No problem, Boss."

Ghost lowered his head to adjust his cuffs, unable to suppress a smile.

Hoffman's pen stopped in mid-air.

"Damn rich people!"

He is from the renowned Cole law firm, which has a great reputation in Los Angeles. Most importantly, one of his partners' fathers is a member of Congress!

This is no longer someone a small-time crook like him can afford to offend.

He would rather offend those wealthy people than offend members of Congress.

And is this Chinese person really that rich?

Just then, the interrogation room door was pushed open.

A narcotics officer strode in and slammed the evidence bag on the table.

The bag contained a packet of white powder.

His voice carried an undeniable air of command:

"Mr. Chen, this morning we received a tip from an informant that a large quantity of drugs was found in your hotel room. You are now officially a subject of a drug case investigation and must remain to cooperate with further investigation."

Hoffman leaned back in his chair, handing the hot potato to the DEA, while he watched from the sidelines.

The atmosphere in the interrogation room suddenly turned cold.

Chen Mo continued smoking, while Ghost didn't even lift his eyelids; neither of them glanced at the so-called drug packet on the table.

Ghost slowly took out his laptop from his briefcase and gently placed it on the interrogation table.

He looked at the narcotics officer, his tone calm:

"Detective, I have a question first. How did you get into my client's hotel room, which he had already checked out of? What key card did you use?"

The narcotics officer scoffed with disdain.

"Of course it's the hotel's universal key card, is that even a question?"

OK.

The ghost chuckled softly and tapped the computer screen with its fingertips.

"All hotel access cards, whether master cards or spare cards, are automatically uploaded to the security system as soon as they are swiped. Every swipe is recorded with the time accurate to the second, and it is impossible to delete or change them."

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned on his computer. Back on the day Chen Mo checked out, he had already asked the hotel to back up all the surveillance footage, door card records, and all the data.

Ghost pressed the Enter key, and the room card usage record immediately appeared on the screen. The table clearly listed the time of each card swipe in the past 72 hours and the corresponding card number.

He highlighted the record from 6:12 this morning.

"Look closely, you didn't use the master key card at all. You used a spare hotel key card to open the room. The system clearly records that this card was taken from the front desk without permission; the time of collection and the signature of the person who collected it are all verifiable!"

Before the narcotics officers could react, Ghost opened a second file, which was surveillance footage from the hotel corridor.

In the video, a man dressed in a Los Angeles Police Department uniform swipes a key card to open the door to Chen Mo's room, which he had already checked out of, while carrying a brown paper bag.

I went in at 6:12 and came out just two minutes later, at 6:14, with the brown paper bag in my hand gone.

And this police officer was one of Hoffman's men!

The ghost slammed his laptop shut and looked at the pale-faced Hoffman and the DEA agent:

"Detective Hoffman, your subordinate took the hotel's spare key card this morning and illegally entered my client's vacated room, deliberately leaving this package of drugs to frame me!"

"I have complete backups of all the access card records and surveillance footage. The evidence is conclusive and cannot be denied."

He stood up and casually straightened his suit cuffs.

"My client is now formally filing a lawsuit against you for perjury, abuse of power, and obstruction of justice. The formal indictment will be delivered to the police station and the narcotics bureau within two hours."

"Make way now. My client has other matters to attend to and doesn't have time to waste with you."

Chen Mo hadn't expected these people to be so foolish.

He slowly stood up, Ghost following behind him, without glancing at Hoffman and the others once more, and walked straight toward the interrogation room door.

Chen Mo decided that he would get revenge on those bastards who refused to pay their debts when he got back!

P.S.: Guys, this book is dead.

The author plans to learn about stock trading while writing. If I suddenly stop updating, it means I've become incredibly rich!

I wish you all a speedy path to wealth!