American Strategic Deception Bureau

　Author's words: PS: Japan has started to engage in "Nanyang Sisters" again. Recently, a large number of Japanese girls (suspected to be shrine maids) have been deceived into selling their bodies in the Philippines.

　In the face of the massacre of Alawite civilians by Syrian President Zhu De, Europe is showing off again and severely condemning the Alawite civilians for resisting the massacre.

　Chapter 625: The scavenger found the protagonist's house

　Malibu Beach, Los Angeles

　Unlike the 21st century, when it was filled with billionaires' mansions, Malibu in the 1970s was not as famous as it would become due to its sparse population and distance from downtown Los Angeles.

　But now, Malibu has a few scattered beachfront vacation homes—there are indeed not many rich and famous people who live here year-round. But there are already quite a few wealthy people who occasionally come to this beach for vacation, or celebrities who live here in seclusion after retirement.

　After all, as early as the early 20th century, Malibu Beach, known as "the place where the waves roared," was already famous for its natural scenery and surfing culture, and it was a niche attraction in California that attracted tourists. Because Malibu Beach is adjacent to California Highway 1, transportation is also relatively convenient.

　At the same time, it is far away from the hustle and bustle of downtown Los Angeles. For those who like quiet, it is a good place to find peace and quiet in the bustling city.

　If you want quietness, Malibu is rugged and sparsely populated; if you want to visit a big city, it is only more than an hour's drive from downtown Los Angeles.

　So, in 1953, Frank Garbutt, the founder of Paramount Pictures, built a vacation villa on Malibu Beach. Later, some retired Los Angeles tycoons built houses and bought properties here, laying the foundation for it to become a celebrity retreat on the West Coast of the United States.

　In this dimension, due to a series of time and space interference factors, the villa complex on Malibu Beach has developed more prosperously.

　However, since most of the residents here were retired wealthy individuals or temporary residences for occasional vacations, they didn't need to be extravagant and lavish. Therefore, most Malibu beach villas at that time were not as luxurious as they would be in later years. Instead, they were mainly relatively inexpensive wooden structures.

　Despite this, these houses are equipped with swimming pools, courtyards, and dance floors, and they are full of the romance and passion of sunshine and beaches.

　Unfortunately, just as all this was developing vigorously, the catastrophe of destruction struck.

　The extreme drought that lasted for more than three months in Los Angeles this year caused the moisture content of vegetation in the Coast Range and Santa Monica Mountains to drop below 5%, making it comparable to perfectly dry firewood. This, coupled with a record high temperature of 41°C and gusts of 88 miles per hour, constituted the "perfect three elements for a firestorm."

　A fierce and unscrupulous firefight between police and criminals in the wild served as the lighter that ignited the pile of dry wood.

　Just like that, after a wildfire, the newly formed Malibu Beach villa complex was instantly wiped out, leaving only scattered charred remains scattered across the vast scorched earth, surrounded by trees and shrubs that had been burned to carbonized piles...

　Just as the poor people's dilapidated houses were burned to ashes by the fire, the rich people's villas could not withstand the flames flying from the mountains across the road.

　Whether it was the simple and bright wooden structured houses or the magnificent reinforced concrete villas, they were all licked by the raging flames and buried under thick ashes, forcing the original residents to flee thousands of miles away. Only firefighters would occasionally come here to put out the remaining fire in the embers.

　The Pacific Coast Highway was reduced to a scorched earth, and 85% of the buildings in the entire Malibu area were burned down.

　Even the yachts at the small pier on the shore that did not have time to weigh anchor and set sail melted like candles in the flames.

　However, just like a dead wild animal in nature, it will attract greedy vultures to eat the carrion.

　The blackened ruins of these beach villas also attracted some "scavengers" who tried to pan for gold in the ruins...

　A tattered pickup truck, temporarily painted red and white and carrying a homemade fire light, was parked on the side of the coastal highway.

　A middle-aged woman in an orange firefighter uniform, holding a firefighter flag and holding a whistle in her mouth, sat cross-legged at the entrance of a makeshift tent on the roadside, her bright eyes vigilantly observing any movement on the road. If you look closely, you will find that her firefighter flag is not an authentic one, but a piece of curtain torn from somewhere, painted with paint.

　It feels crudely made.

　Behind her, the waves of Malibu Beach beat against the charred coastline. A white palace with Greek columns that had stood tall three days ago now looked like a cigar box crushed by God, with only rubble, garbage and charred ruins left on the ground.

　Three men and one woman, each wearing an ill-fitting orange fire suit, were jumping around in the still-smoking embers and rubble that hurt their feet. Four aluminum respirators, which were obviously only decorative, were hanging around their necks and dangling back and forth.

　"Aha! Finally found a safe! Hopefully, it'll be filled with gold bars!"

　Leonard, the Hollywood third-rate screenwriter who had assembled this "scavenger" team, dug out a half-empty bottle of tequila from a charred bar and poured it on his smoking trouser leg. He then picked up a hydraulic clamp and prepared to tackle a charred iron box embedded in the rubble.

　But Carl, a construction worker who was rummaging through furniture debris on the other side, looked up and was so frightened that he screamed, "Idiot! Stop it! This is not a safe! You're cutting the fucking Pacific Electric Company's meter!"

　"Is this the electric meter box? Well, after it's been burned and deformed, it's really hard to recognize at first glance."

　Leonard knocked on the iron box with hydraulic pliers and muttered angrily, "Relax, Carl, do you think this place still has electricity? Even if we cut the meter box, it won't be a big deal... Oh, baby! Look at this! This is definitely a real safe! And it's not locked!"

　He kicked open the safe door and was disappointed to find only a burnt will inside, which stated that the entire estate was donated to a stray cat shelter.

　"You bunch of idiots! If you want to find the good stuff, you'll have to rely on my luck!" Daisy, the now-faded singer, proudly placed her hands on her hips, showing off a twisted Harley-Davidson she'd just dragged from the rubble of the garage. The fuel cap gleamed Tiffany blue. "Look! A custom-made sterling silver license plate with the words 'Malibu King'—wait, why is it engraved on the back with 'Mortgaged to an underground bank in Santa Monica'?"

　"It seems that the owner of this house has some connection with the underworld in the city."

　Carl muttered, took a look with a wrench, and knocked on several key parts of the Harley motorcycle. Then he shook his head and said, "It's useless. The engine and instruments are all broken. There's only a broken shell left. Even the wheels are scrapped! The cost of repairing this motorcycle will probably cost much more than selling it second-hand! You'd better knock off the license plate and take it away. This broken motorcycle is only worth this silver plate."

　Daisy's lips pursed for a moment after hearing these disappointing words. But she was a liberal arts student after all, and knew nothing about motorcycle repair. So, in the end, she angrily knocked off the silver license plate, put it in her pocket, and abandoned the burned Harley.

　Next, Leonard pried open a half-melted display case, only to find a few burnt medals. He then painstakingly dug out a glittering golden object from the rubble, only to discover to his disappointment that it was just a gold-rimmed vinyl record.

　At that moment, the sound of shattering porcelain could be heard nearby. Then, Buck, the bankrupt fishing tackle shop owner, happily approached, carrying an ancient Greek marble statue of a goddess. "Look! If this is the real thing, how much would it fetch in an antique shop?"

　"Statue? The hands of your statue are broken?" Carl looked up and commented.

　"Haven't you heard of the Venus de Milo? Even a statue with a broken hand is valuable!" Boss Buck argued stubbornly.

　"It's worthless! Can't you see the label stuck to the base? It's a 100% replica—wait, there's something reflecting light in the flower bed!"

　Leonard looked at the broken statue for a while, then spat in disappointment. Then his attention was drawn to something else.

　Construction worker Carl rushed over and used a wooden stick to pry out a sturdy-looking hardwood box decorated with metal foil from the soil of the flower bed. Then he swung a fire axe, split open the crack on the box door, reached in and fumbled around for a few times, and took out a small gadget.

　"This is... a cigar box! Not bad, finally I got something."

　Carl happily opened the cigar box, looked at it in the sunlight, but his expression changed instantly: "Wait, why are there draft coupons in the box? Draft coupons for the Vietnam War!" He shook out the yellowed paper from the cigar box with a grim expression, and the 1966 postmark was clearly visible.

　"Put it back! This thing is more unlucky than anthrax!" Daisy, the out-of-date rock singer who was rummaging through the closet, shouted when she saw this.

　"Put it back? No, even if draft coupons are unlucky, this cigar box is made of silver! I have to take a souvenir!"

　Carl shook his head, emptied the paper from the cigar box, threw it away, and then carefully hid the silver cigar box in his pocket.

　Suddenly, Roy, the stuntwoman who was standing guard on the side of the road in the distance, blew the whistle in her mouth.

　"Beep--" The sharp whistle echoed on the empty beach for a moment.

　"Someone's coming! Start the show!"

　Leonard yelled, and everyone hurriedly put on their fire helmets. When the truck carrying the National Guard soldiers passed by, the four people in the ruins responded by raising their fire hoses, pumping seawater, and aiming them at a still-smoking wooden warehouse, striking a rather unorthodox firefighting pose.

　Not until the military vehicles passed did everyone breathe a sigh of relief, stop playing with sea water, and continue searching among the ruins of what was once a mansion.

　However, wealthy people in the United States do not have the habit of hoarding gold bars and silver bricks in their cellars, and luxury goods such as furs, famous paintings and ivory products obviously cannot withstand the burning of the fire... So, although they cannot be said to have gained nothing in the end, at least they gained very little.

　Therefore, these fake firefighters could only leave this desolate ruin with their meager gains, and get back on the shabby pickup truck disguised as a fire water tanker to continue driving on the desolate coastal highway.

　"Hey, I really shouldn't have come to Malibu. There are too few houses here! There are far more lavish mansions in Bel Air and Holmby Hills than on this beach. And even though the houses in Chinatown are shabby, the Chinese like to hide valuables in their homes..."

　Buck, the owner of the fishing tackle shop, looked at the burnt woods on both sides of the road and muttered to himself.

　"But there are so many people trying to make their fortunes in Bel Air and Holmby Hills that even the police are roaming around the ruins there all day. We can't hide from so many eyes. There are probably even more people in Chinatown. Do you think our disguises as firefighters are very convincing?"

　Leonard rolled his eyes. "Only in Malibu Beach, far from the city and sparsely populated, is there a reason no one comes to inspect it seriously. Otherwise, we would have been exposed long ago! Lions enjoy delicious food, while hyenas are only fit to eat leftovers! Don't overestimate our strength, Buck!"

　"But scavenging in the desolate wilderness of Malibu may be safe, but it's not going to make you rich! What have we found so far? I'm afraid it's barely enough for gas. Don't forget, we all have bills to pay!"

　"Yes, everyone wants to get rich, but do you think it feels good to be arrested by the police and thrown into jail?"

　Just as the two men were bickering, the tattered pickup truck carrying them had already run over the ashes and smoking pine needles on the ground, bypassed the wreckage of several cars that were burned to only their skeletons, and passed through a charred mountain forest that had been burned bare. The figure of a man-made building appeared again in front of them.

　They were two adjacent beachfront villas, both made of reinforced concrete. Although they had been burned, their main structures were still intact.

　One of the villas was large, almost the size of a palace, with several houses inside. The main building had a layout somewhat like a monastery, with a blackened dome and mottled, broken stained-glass windows. But there was no trace of the cross, perhaps it had been burned.

　The other villa is smaller and shaped like a castle, standing on a cliff, like a charred beast crawling on the ridge.

　"Wait! Stop the car! I think there must be something good in these houses!"

　Construction worker Carl suddenly shouted, and at the same time slapped Roy who was driving, causing her to subconsciously step on the brakes.

　When the car stopped, the other people in the car reacted and looked out the window. Leonard shouted, "Hey, brother, didn't we agree before? We only steal from the ruins that were burned, but the houses here look intact.

　If we go in and take something, it will turn from scavenging to robbery! Aren't you afraid that the owner of the house will shoot you?

　There's only one gun and six bullets for the five of us!" He pulled out the revolver from his waist, which was at least twenty years old, and gestured.

　"Don't worry! I've looked carefully, there's definitely no one in here! Look at the ashes at the door, they're piled so thick! And no one's cleaning them up!"

　Carl looked at the modern concrete castle on the roadside and said confidently, "There was nothing valuable to be found in those burned-down ruins before! But these two houses are different. Even if we just move the furniture inside, we can make thousands of dollars!"

　Moreover, there might be even more valuable jewelry, furs, artworks, or even large amounts of cash!

　Sure, we're taking a bit of a risk breaking in; the owner could be back any second! But if we want to make a killing, how can we avoid taking any risks? How much valuable stuff have we collected so far? It's not even worth a thousand dollars, is it?

　Do you want to go back home with a little over a hundred dollars each and continue to be poor? Or do you want to try your luck and go home with your wallets full?

　He said to his four companions in a tone full of temptation, "Look over there! The gate of this manor has been burned down! We can drive the car in without anyone noticing, empty the things inside, and then drive the car out!"

　A moment later, the broken pickup truck carrying five fake firefighters slowly passed through the porch that was burned down by the wildfire, ran over two iron doors that had flipped inward, and entered the interior of the deserted seaside manor.

　Next, they cheered excitedly because of the rich harvest they had found.

　But what these thieves didn't know was that the manor they were looting was once the residence of the First Lady of South Vietnam, and later became the love nest of famous actress Marilyn Monroe. It is now a religious club and psychedelic herbal plant cultivation base of the Dark Sun Sect.

　The beachfront castle villa next door, which they planned to plunder next, belonged to Major General Ferry King, Director of the Strategic Deception Bureau...

　Words: In the new Harry Potter movie that is being prepared, not only Hermione will be played by a black actor, but Snape will also be played by a black actor. So someone made a brilliant comment - if Snape was black, it would explain why Snape was always bullied and hung up in school, and why he was discriminated against by all the white people in the school afterwards, and why the Dark Mark on his arm was never discovered.

　Chapter 626: Lucky Thieves

　"Get rich! Get rich!"

　"Finally got a batch of valuable goods! It was really not easy!"

　"These hemp cigarettes are of the highest quality, and the 'powder' in the cabinet is also very pure!"

　"I've never tasted anything this good before! Bring it to me and let me enjoy it!"

　"Go away, you drug addict! If you want to have fun, you have to wait until we get back!"

　"Gas masks! Get your gas masks! Are your noses just for show? This damn place is dead airless! The smell of burning hemp hasn't dissipated yet! If you don't want to get high in there and embarrass yourself in front of us, don't rush in!"

　On Malibu Beach in Los Angeles, in a deserted mansion due to a wildfire, a few petty thieves disguised as firefighters happily loaded bags of loot into their tattered pickup trucks, chatting and joking with each other.

　Although the estate was also burned by the wildfire, as a complex of reinforced concrete buildings, they were ultimately much more fire-resistant than those wooden beach villas. Aside from some wooden fences and canvas roofs that were burned, most of the main structure remained intact.

　Compared with the previous ruins that were burned down to only broken walls, it is a world of difference.

　So, when five petty thieves disguised as firefighters carefully stepped over the charred rose bushes and broke into this equally deserted but relatively intact seaside manor villa, they were like mice falling into a rice village, discovering valuable things everywhere.

　In fact, as soon as they walked into the house, they smelled a strange smell: a burnt smell mixed with an odd sweet fragrance, like over-roasted maple syrup.

　Next, the five little thieves saw a wide variety of "grasses".

　As Zoe's "herbal cultivation base," this Malibu beach estate didn't hold much in the way of gold, silver, or jewelry, but it boasted a vast array of "herbal anesthetics" and "hallucinatory mushrooms." Among them were fresh specimens growing in the cultivation room, as well as harvested, dried, processed, and even ground and extracted semi-finished products, leaving the five petty thieves dazzled.

　Although the United States in this dimension doesn't have much of a drug ban, and plantations producing these "hallucinatory drugs" are everywhere, in the underground market, various "anesthetics" are still a valuable hard currency - even more "strong" than rapidly depreciating banknotes and government bonds.

　So, the overjoyed thieves immediately began to search, rummaging through boxes and drawers, looking for anesthetics and money.

　However, while the main structure remained relatively intact, the villa had endured the ravages of the wildfire. The five glass greenhouses housing the "herbs" had all been ravaged by the fire, their glass shattering and their frames collapsing. Even the underground mushroom houses, after enduring the intense heat, were completely destroyed.

　In addition, many "herbs" stored in cardboard boxes and wooden cabinets were burned or mixed in the ashes brought by the thick smoke.

　As a religious retreat, the villa was adorned with beautiful murals and reliefs. However, these magnificent interiors could not be removed, making them meaningless to thieves. Even the furniture was regrettably abandoned by the thieves, as it was all emblazoned with the Dark Sun emblem of the Church of Cyric.

　——First, it is bulky and not made of precious wood, so it cannot be sold for much money. Second, it will increase the risk of being exposed.

　What's more troublesome is that the Xirik Church is not a temple of wealth, and there is no custom of decorating the altar with gold and silver to show off wealth.

　So, this group of thieves wandered around the manor for a long time but didn't find even a gram of gold. They only got a few purple silk clothes.

　Although the dome greenhouse closest to the sea was not burned because it was blocked by the main building from the mountain wind.

　But when they excitedly pried the door open and broke in, they were disappointed not to smell the pungent stench of hemp, but instead smelled the fragrance of flowers.

　Inside the greenhouse was a vast pond, where lotus flowers flourished atop emerald leaves. Their petals were flawless white like jade, their edges shimmering only with ripples of rouge red. A golden stamen nestled in the center, surrounding the lotus pod. Its fragrance emanated, delicate yet hard to ignore.

　In the center of the pond is a cement lotus platform, and on the edge of the pond are stone benches and reliefs. It looks very exquisite, but it disappointed the thief.

　"Another religious gathering place! There's nothing of value to be taken away! Not even a statue of God!"

　Stuntman Roy casually broke off a lotus flower and swung it back and forth, playing with it. "Mexican Catholic churches have silver candlesticks and gilded wafer boxes, but why is this cult's meeting place so austere? There's not a single piece of gold or silver to be found, and there's no safe anywhere!"

　"Perhaps they took away the gold and silver utensils and the safe when they evacuated?"

　Leonard answered casually, staring with his eyes wide open, looking around for possible hidden treasures, and soon found a wallet in the windbreaker hanging on the wall. "The bag is full of small bills, which is very convenient to use! It's a pity that there are a few less.

　It’s just over a thousand yuan.”

　He was happily counting the bills and coins, complaining like this, and at the same time casually threw a brochure of the Church of Xirik into the pool.

　At the same time, Buck, the owner of the fishing tackle shop, also found a bottle of purple potion next to a strangely shaped bronze incense burner. He carefully pulled out the cork, dipped a little powder with his finger, put it to his nostrils and smelled it, then his face showed an intoxicated look.

　"This is some seriously powerful stuff! This is definitely the latest fucking hallucinogen."

　Buck said happily, looking at the crystal glass medicine bottle in his hand, watching the purple powder in the bottle glow with the luster of mother-of-pearl in the sunlight.

　But other than that, the thieves didn't find anything else. After all, this club wasn't a wealthy man's residence. The people who lived there were just working people who grew herbs. They couldn't afford expensive luxury goods, nor could they keep boxes of jewelry and cash in their workplace.

　Moreover, when the fire approached and evacuated, the most valuable things here must have been taken away.