HLM -Chapter 1190 Someone’s Inside

They bought the apartment building for 70,000, the villa that Na Qingyang had his eye on for 385,000, and Li Xing also spent 240,000 on a smaller villa. The two villas weren’t far from each other.

The auction ended, payments were made, and documents were exchanged to register the properties. The bank and the property registry had a cooperation system, so ownership transfer could be processed on the spot.

However, the actual property title wouldn’t be available immediately; it would take at least half a month to complete. That wasn’t a problem—each of them had time to wait, and now they could enter the properties.

Driving over, Wang Bo said, “Honestly, the hardest part about these foreclosed properties is dealing with the occupants. If someone is inside and refuses to leave, it gets tricky.”

“Just call the police, right?” Na Qingyang asked, as if it were obvious.

Wang Bo shook his head. “Yes, but you know how slow New Zealand police can be. They might take a week just to come, and then another week to handle it—and there’s no guarantee they’ll finish the job.”

Zhang Rui was surprised. “What? That slow? I thought New Zealand was supposed to have top-tier corruption control and public service efficiency.”

“Corruption control has nothing to do with police response,” Wang Bo said. “And efficiency? Who says they’re world-class here? The immigration office? Anyone can talk big.”

Zhang Rui frowned. “So… no one’s living in these houses, right?”

“Relax,” Wang Bo said. “The bank’s records are clear. The owners ran off because they owed too much money. The two villas are empty, too.”

It was true that the owners weren’t there, but that didn’t guarantee the houses were empty.

They went to an apartment complex. It was a nice, gated community—a rarity in New Zealand, where most complexes were open to the street.

Wang Bo checked the records: Unit 1402, Block A, Building 10. “This apartment is really good. Fourteenth floor, plenty of sunlight, not too high, and mosquitoes won’t get up here.”

Zhang Rui asked, “Are there many houses in New Zealand?”

Na Qingyang made a grim face. “More than you can imagine. Not long ago, our town even organized a town-wide mosquito extermination campaign!”

The building was relatively new—only five or six years old. The complex had extensive landscaping, well-maintained lawns, and neatly parked cars.

The apartment came with an underground parking space. They drove down to check it out. The garage had two levels with ample parking. Conveniently, the underground garage had elevators directly to each building. They found the elevator for Building 10 and rode up to the 14th floor.

“1402, perfect. Here we are,” Wang Bo said, quickly locating the unit and taking out the key.

The door opened smoothly—but a rush of smoke hit them immediately.

Wang Bo and the others froze. The moment they stepped in, they saw the living room: five or six burly men sitting around the coffee table, staring at them in shock.

The men were shirtless, covered in tattoos. On the table lay a pile of playing cards and some cash—they were clearly gambling.

Acting quickly, Wang Bo pulled out his phone and snapped a bunch of photos.

One man instinctively tried to hide the cards and money. Another shouted, “Idiot! Gambling isn’t illegal in Auckland!”

Wang Bo couldn’t help but grimace. As a devoutly Christian country, New Zealand surprisingly legalized gambling. Not just gambling—pornography was semi-legal here, and even private sexual services had a semi-legal status.

Auckland was notorious for gambling. It was one of New Zealand’s gambling hubs, and SkyCity Casino attracted many tourists.

Wang Bo said, “Gambling is legal for you, but trespassing isn’t. Stand up quietly—police!”

His badge flashed, and the men’s arrogant expressions immediately faltered.

Still, they weren’t scared. A bald man said nonchalantly, “Sir, we’re not trespassing. The owner is our friend. He’s away and asked us to look after the apartment. Don’t believe us? We have his letter of authorization right here.”

Wang Bo pushed Zhang Rui forward. “He authorized you?”

The bald man looked confused. “Of course not. Who’s this yellow-skinned guy?”

Wang Bo slapped him hard and said sternly, “Watch your mouth!”

Seeing him act, the other men glared, ready to fight—but Wang Bo was faster. He pulled a gun from his pocket, pointing it at them. “Assault the police? Try it!”

Seeing the gun, the men immediately raised their hands, though their eyes were full of anger—they were probably thinking of how to complain about Wang Bo later. In New Zealand, the police had strict accountability, and Wang Bo could have been fired for this.

He didn’t care. Once they crouched down, he told Na Qingyang, “Brother A, take photos of everything on the table and collect it.”

“Gambling isn’t illegal!” shouted the bald man.

Wang Bo glared. “Right, gambling isn’t illegal. But trespassing and tax evasion while gambling? That’s illegal. You’re going to jail together.”

New Zealand allowed gambling largely for high tax revenue. The law required casino operators running level-four gaming machines to pay 40% business tax, with higher taxes for higher-level machines. Slot machines were level-four—the basic gambling tools. Casinos paid high taxes, so illegal, untaxed gambling was lucrative but strictly punished.

Hearing Wang Bo, a heavily tattooed man said, “We’re not gambling—we’re just playing cards among friends. And this apartment is really ours.”

Wang Bo sneered. “No, it’s not. This apartment belongs to this gentleman. Now pack your stuff and get out. Wait outside. The police will come for you soon.”

He called Conley to contact the local police station.

Seeing Wang Bo was serious, the bald man said, “Fine, officer. I don’t know where you came from—I’ve never seen you in Auckland. But damn, this apartment really belongs to our friend. He owes us money, and we were just looking after it.”

Wang Bo said, “You still don’t get it? The bank has repossessed this apartment. It belongs to this gentleman now.”

Zhang Rui forced a grim smile. “I have a feeling I won’t have peace living here from now on.”

Wang Bo patted his shoulder. “Relax, I’ve got your back. Nothing to fear.”

Zhang Rui glanced at the gun in his hand. “Damn… it’s only because you’re here that I’m scared. And why are you already using weapons?”