HLM – Chapter 29 That Urine Burns the Eyes

After meeting, Mike shook his hand. His palm was large and firm, with rough, callused fingers—clearly the hands of someone skilled with firearms.

Mike led them to a secluded spot and began reporting the interrogation results: “Most of these people are from that filthy place—Detroit, USA. There are five in total; three are still at large, all desperate criminals. Wang, you’d better watch your back.”

Chief Smith sneered dismissively, “I don’t believe they’d dare attack a cop.”

Mike responded sternly, “It’s possible. Honestly, the reason they fled to New Zealand might be because they attacked police back in the U.S. and had nowhere else to go. They’ve actually been in New Zealand for two years now, moving cities every six months to cook meth.”

Wang Bo frowned. “Shit. These guys probably made a ton of money from dealing, right? Why would they care so much about 85,000 bucks?”

“Two reasons,” Mike explained. “One, they’re just that greedy and vicious—which is why I said you need to be careful. Two, like I mentioned, they only stay in one city for six months. Their time in Omarama was up, and they just wanted to make one last quick buck before skipping town.”

Old Wang had a lightbulb moment. These drug dealers really knew how to stretch a dollar—every mosquito leg counts.

Hearing this, Chief Smith scratched his head in confusion and asked, “Did they say where the drug money went? I searched that basement top to bottom and only found less than ten grand. That can’t be all of it.”

Mike furrowed his brows too. “According to the interrogation, one of them said they kept 1 million NZD and 200,000 USD in a safe.”

Chief Smith immediately said, “No way. The safe was locked when we got there—you guys were the ones who opened it, and it was empty, wasn’t it?”

“Not a single cent,” Mike replied, glancing sharply at Wang Bo.

But Old Wang wasn’t worried—they’d never find evidence he took the money. He’d worn rubber gloves and hadn’t left a single fingerprint.

So Wang Bo put on his best confused expression, furrowing his brows like he was deeply troubled and pretending to be racking his brain. He even added a puzzled head tilt—full method actor mode.

Seeing this, Mike dropped his suspicion. Everyone had been searched before leaving the basement, and it was sealed afterward. There was no way anyone could’ve smuggled the cash out.

With the interrogation update complete, the officers entered the hospital room.

The skinny white guy was stunned when he saw Wang Bo in uniform. His face twisted with hatred, and he rasped out, “You bastard. So you’re a blue pig? If we’d known, we wouldn’t have taken your damn money. Should’ve killed you right then! But it doesn’t matter—my guys will find you and kill you! You have no idea what we’re capable of. You’re dead!”

Wang Bo said nothing, just smiled calmly and followed the chief like an obedient trainee.

Chief Smith tried to interrogate the skinny man, but the guy refused to cooperate and kept cursing and insulting them.

With no progress made, Chief Smith gave up and left. Wang Bo lingered behind, waiting until everyone had exited before quietly closing the door. He grinned wickedly and pulled out a can of pepper spray, then walked back to the skinny man’s bed.

The man panicked. “You can’t abuse prisoners! My lawyer will sue you into ruin!”

Because he’d been so violent earlier and the police needed to question him, the hospital hadn’t sedated him—instead, they’d tied him to the bed. He had no way to resist.

Old Wang taped his mouth shut, chuckling, then yanked back the blanket and the man’s pants—and sprayed a healthy dose of pepper spray straight into his crotch. Then he quickly covered him up again.

Later, someone asked what kind of illness could make someone’s urine smell like pepper spray. One of the urinals in Omarama Public Hospital’s men’s room was reportedly eye-watering…

The discovery of the meth lab in the abandoned suburban villa caused a huge stir in the small town. But to protect Wang Bo, the police didn’t publicly announce that he’d uncovered the operation while fighting the drug dealers.

Media from all over the South Island reported on the major bust. As the first responders and primary investigators, the Omarama police department received a lot of attention, and Wang Bo was placed under protective watch to prevent retaliation from the remaining dealers.

The raid yielded over a hundred kilograms of various narcotics, mostly meth. It was easy to make—just a small workshop and two people with basic chemistry knowledge could produce it. In fact, it could even be extracted from cold medicine.

This gang had five people involved, which already qualified as a “large-scale operation.”

Originally, Chief Smith wanted to host a party to both celebrate busting a drug ring and welcome Wang Bo to the force. But with three dangerous suspects still on the loose, the police were under too much pressure. The party had to be postponed.

With everything wrapped up in town—township approval granted, his mayoral appointment received, and police onboarding complete—Chief Smith suggested Wang Bo leave town temporarily for safety.

So Wang Bo decided to return to his castle. That was where he felt safest, his home turf—if those drug dealers came for revenge, he could squash them like bugs.

But before heading back, he needed to do some major shopping. The castle was completely empty.

The largest supermarket in Omarama was Pak’nSave, one of New Zealand’s three major supermarket chains (the other two being Countdown and New World).

Pak’nSave is nicknamed “Little Yellow” in New Zealand because everything—store exterior, receipts, shelves—is bright yellow. It focuses on low-cost goods, aiming to offer the cheapest food prices across the country, with over a hundred locations across both the North and South Islands.

Wang Bo hired a box van. The driver, a chubby Māori man, recognized him and called him “Ten-time Champion,” claiming to be a huge fan of Wang Bo’s sports career and a running enthusiast. But when it came to the rental price, the “fan” didn’t cut him any slack.

Still, the price was fair—$280 to deliver to the specified location. Maybe it was the badge hanging on Wang Bo’s chest, but even though he was clearly a foreigner, the driver didn’t try to overcharge him.

Now that Wang Bo had millions in cash, he didn’t care about a couple hundred bucks. So he paid up and headed straight to Pak’nSave.

Pak’nSave is a warehouse-style supermarket with a massive store area and a bare-bones interior—basically just giant shelves inside a bright yellow warehouse. The floor was plain concrete, and there were barely any staff. Shoppers were on their own.

Wang Bo understood—every aspect of the store was optimized to cut costs and pass the savings on to consumers.