Mun Storage Center.

Two days later, Luke came here for the third time.

Boreet scurried out to meet him, more attentive than to his own boss.

Each time Luke had visited, the storage center had had an incident.

If something else went wrong, could the storage center still do business?

"Officer Luke, do you have any tasks here today?"

"I've said it before, I'm just here to participate in the storage auction."

Boreet felt uneasy inside. Last time you said the same thing, but what happened?

Thompson, the guy who always bragged about being tough, was nearly brought to tears, and I heard he almost ended up in the hospital.

If another scene like that happened, who would dare to bid at my auctions in the future?

"Officer Luke, if you really have any tasks, just give me a heads up, and I'll do my utmost to cooperate."

"Relax, I'm just like the other Treasure Hunters here to seek fortune."

Boreet was still not at ease, but what could he do?

Kick Luke out?

He didn't dare to offend him.

LAPD isn't a person, it's an organization.

"Boreet, you don't need to be so polite, just go on with your work. I've been here before, I know the rules of the auction."

"See you in a bit." Boreet left; he needed to get the auction started quickly to avoid any incidents.

Ten minutes later, the auction officially began.

Boreet was still the auctioneer, opening the door to unit 236, "OK, we are all old friends here, so I'll make it brief.

You can only stand at the entrance, no peeking inside, no using tools, and definitely no entering the warehouse.

Bidding starts in one minute, highest bidder wins."

There were quite a few people around the warehouse. Last time Luke had struggled to squeeze into the front row.

This time it was different, the people around him consciously made way for him.

Luke looked around, most of the faces were familiar.

He stood at the door for a while, seeing nothing but miscellaneous items which, to be honest, he couldn't make heads or tails of.

Before coming, he had specifically watched some videos on storage hunting and learned some superficial knowledge.

Prioritize storage units with safes.The age of the items isn't as important as their quality, which signifies the owner's wealth and status.

Don't underestimate strange collectibles, the right buyer could turn a huge profit.

...

These thoughts ran through his mind, and nearly a minute had passed. He neither saw a safe, nor could he discern the quality of the old furniture.

He was still just a rookie, stuck at the theoretical stage.

"Time's up, let's start the bidding. Unit 236 starts at 100 US dollars."

A white chubby man with a waist possibly larger than his height shouted, "150 dollars."

"150 dollars for the first call, anyone willing to bid higher?"

Luke waved, "200 dollars."

"Good eye, this storage is indeed very promising. Any more bids?"

The crowd looked at one another but no one spoke up.

"200 dollars for the first call, 200 dollars for the second, 200 dollars for the third. Congratulations, Mr. Luke, the storage is yours for the next 24 hours."

"Wait a minute." Luke felt something was off. This unit couldn't be that bad, could it? Am I the only one interested?

"Why aren't you bidding? I'm here today as a private individual, not as a cop.

I, like you, am here to seek fortune."

"Boreet, I think you should call for bids again."

Boreet smoothly complied, "200 dollars for the first call, any more bids?"

The white chubby man hesitated for a moment, then raised the bid again, "300 dollars."

Luke continued to bid, "350 US dollars."

"350 US dollars once, 350 US dollars twice, 350 US dollars three times, are there any more bids?" Boreet scanned the crowd and with a final hammer strike announced, "Mr. Luke, congratulations, the storage unit is yours."

"Thank you." Luke felt the price was still reasonable, since at least there had been someone bidding.

Boreet called out, "OK, let's not disturb Mr. Luke while he sorts out the unit, everyone. Let's move to the next one."

"Whoosh..." The crowd dispersed in a commotion.

As they left, they were talking about something.

It seemed like they were discussing strategies for the next auction.

Luke stood there alone, thinking to himself, you'll regret this.

He put on gloves and a mask and started working.

First, he moved everything out to identify the valuable items.

Most of the items were old furniture, sofas, table lamps, toolboxes, fishing rods, old TVs, radios, and such—Luke felt these items were not much younger than himself.

These things might have some value in a secondhand market, but they were worthless to him.

After clearing out the unit, he found a black leather travel bag in the corner that looked very sturdy and heavy to lift.

The zipper was stuck on a small padlock, which had rusted due to being stored for too long. Luke simply got a pair of pliers from the toolbox and snapped off the lock. The copper zipper was still functional.

Upon opening it, he was greeted by a vision of green bills.

Luke roughly counted and found there were seven stacks of bills, each roughly ten thousand US dollars, totaling seventy thousand US dollars.

He had braced himself, yet he couldn't hide the joy in his heart, "Fuck! I'm a rich man now!"

Luke rented a truck, transported all the items to the secondhand market, and sold everything for a thousand US dollars in a bulk deal, bringing his total earnings from the storage unit to 71,000 US dollars, having only spent 350 US dollars on the auction.

That was much better than buying scratch-off tickets.

...

With money in hand, Luke paid off his car loan first thing, with both the principal and interest totaling 4,500 US dollars.

After paying off the car loan, he felt as if a shackle had been removed from his head, lightening his entire being.

He then repaid David one thousand US dollars.

David was getting together money for Lindsay's bail, and Luke thought about lending him ten thousand US dollars, but David declined the offer.

It was nearly early April, and David was about to get his paycheck, plus he would get a share of the bonus from the painting, which would be enough to cover the bail. He didn't want to borrow money from colleagues for such matters.

It would be a burden.

Luke had made a substantial contribution in the 'Telson Manor Disappearance' case, so he was due for a hefty share of the bonus.

But since everyone was a team, he couldn't hog all the rewards.

After paying off his debts, Luke was left with about 65,000 US dollars, and the bonus from the painting was due soon. He now had a fair amount of money to freely spend, and it was time to improve his life.

He planned to rent a house, living either with his mother or at Daisy's wasn't a long-term solution.

A man should always have a place to call his own.

For many years, he had fantasized about having his own large villa, a home theater for watching movies anytime.

A backyard covered with green lawn, occasionally inviting friends over for a small barbecue.

If there was a swimming pool, that would be perfect.

Before, it was just a fantasy, but now Luke had the money, he could make those dreams a reality.

"Buzz..."

A vibration from his phone interrupted his daydreaming.

A message from his mother Linda read just one sentence, "Family gathering at five in the afternoon, you know the place.

Don't be late!"

Luke didn't want to go, but felt obligated.

Back home, people often said that family concepts in America weren't strong, but after arriving in Los Angeles, Luke found that locals valued family too, just in a different way.

On weekends, parents would take their children out.

Many families had Sunday gatherings, with barbecues, casual drinks, and chats.

In his past life, Luke seldom contacted his relatives, and a proper family meal only happened during the New Year holidays, and everyone was busy with their own lives at other times.

Now, with frequent family gatherings, it was something he was not used to and still needed time to adapt to.