HLM – Chapter 42 Even the Police Badge Was Useless

Seeing the table full of food, Old Wang’s appetite surged. He called out to Charlie and started picking up a grilled oyster with his hand, eagerly sending it into his mouth.

The oysters were tender, the silverfish fried to crispy perfection and bursting with flavor, the salmon salad vibrant in both color and taste, and the lobster bisque was sweet and delicious. This meal had Wang Bo smacking the table in delight—he even had to loosen his belt twice.

When it came time to pay, he thought it would just be a simple processing fee. Considering New Zealand’s relatively low prices, he wasn’t too concerned—until the owner told him the total: “Thank you for dining with us. That’ll be 380 dollars.”

“What? 380? New Zealand dollars or RMB?”

“Either is fine, sir. 380 New Zealand dollars, or 1,700 RMB based on today’s exchange rate,” said the chubby owner with a friendly smile.

Wang Bo was stunned. This was just the processing fee? A roadside stall charging 1,700 yuan? Was he getting extorted again?

He turned to look for Charlie, only to see the guy had dashed off to flirt with a pretty woman, leaving him behind.

So Old Wang quietly pulled out his police badge and placed it on the counter, asking calmly, “How much was that again? I didn’t hear you clearly.”

The owner didn’t even glance at the shiny badge. He simply printed the invoice and receipt. Wang Bo looked at it—everything was clearly itemized: processing fee, condiment charges, seating fee…

“There’s a charge for seating too?” Wang Bo asked.

The owner beamed. “You were in the VIP scenic seating area. 80 dollars per table.”

Wang Bo was speechless. He put away the badge, slapped down 380 dollars, and walked off with a defeated posture.

But the owner called after him, “Hey sir, there’s still something you haven’t settled.”

Wang Bo turned back, confused. “What is it now?”

“You haven’t left a tip,” the owner replied cheerfully.

Wang Bo was embarrassed. “As far as I know, tipping isn’t customary in New Zealand, is it?”

He had looked this up before traveling abroad. The owner wasn’t going to scam him that easily.

The owner pointed at the American flag hanging by the signboard. “Sorry, this is an American restaurant.”

“I give up!”

Obviously, Charlie had totally set him up. No wonder he insisted on paying for the seafood—he was planning to gouge him on the back end. Wang Bo wanted to go confront him, but when he looked around, he saw Charlie leaning on a maroon Maserati, flashing a smile at a beautiful woman.

“Fine! Go ahead and flirt, but when you’re done, I’m beating you up!” Old Wang clenched his fist and vowed angrily—then stood by to learn some flirting techniques. One is never too old to learn, after all.

Charlie had one arm casually draped over the Maserati’s hood and was waving to the beauty. “Hi there, miss. Need a ride?”

The woman looked Asian, wearing large sunglasses, with long, glossy black hair curled at the ends. She had a slim and graceful figure. On top, she wore a plain white short-sleeved shirt, and below, a high-waisted black flowing skirt that danced in the wind, occasionally revealing her beautiful legs.

Cleverly, she had tied the hem of her shirt in a knot under her chest, revealing a portion of her slim, fair waist—a very sexy and eye-catching look.

Wang Bo felt like he’d seen this woman somewhere before.

Hearing Charlie’s greeting, the woman swayed her hips seductively and walked over. Charlie beamed with confidence and shot Wang Bo a discreet wink.

Just as Wang Bo was about to sigh at how materialistic women had become, the woman pulled a small remote from her bag and pressed it. The Maserati’s lights blinked and the car chirped.

Charlie’s confident “man of the world” smile froze in place, as stiff as a concrete wall.

The woman pointed to the side, and Charlie awkwardly stepped aside. Wang Bo quickly took out his phone and snapped a photo—moments of complete bewilderment like this were rare!

The Maserati started up, but as it passed by Wang Bo, it suddenly came to a stop. The window rolled down, and a crisp, pleasant voice said, “Hey, Wang, what are you doing here?”

The woman inside took off her sunglasses, and Wang Bo immediately recognized her. That sense of familiarity now made sense—she was the host who had interviewed him at the city sports event. Eva had told him she was quite well-known on the South Island and, like him, of Chinese descent. If he remembered correctly, her name was Monica.

“Monica? Wow, what a coincidence! In Chinese we’d say this is fate—meeting again across thousands of kilometers,” Wang Bo said with a smile.

Charlie stared with wide eyes, completely dumbfounded.

In his mind, Wang Bo was just a reserved little marksman. Who would’ve thought the woman he’d failed to woo would actively approach Wang Bo? It defied all logic!

Dragging his feet, Charlie came over. He smiled and said, “Hey buddy, you two know each other? Haha, sorry Monica, I was just joking earlier. I recognized you right away—you’re the star host of Voice of the South Island! I’m a big fan.”

The host politely shook his hand and then turned to Wang Bo. “It’s great to see you here, but I’m in a bit of a hurry. I have a show this afternoon at Wellington Cable TV. Let’s keep in touch, okay?”

With a somewhat regretful expression, she took out a note card, quickly jotted something down, and handed it to him. “Call me sometime.”

Wang Bo accepted the note, and she waved goodbye, ready to leave. Then she looked at Charlie and asked, “Would you like a ride, sir?”

Afraid Charlie would mess things up somehow, Wang Bo quickly said, “Even though my buddy would love to, we’d better not. We’re headed in a different direction—you’re going to the TV station, and we’re going to the police station.”

Charlie looked surprised. “Why the police station?”

“You just lost face back there, didn’t you? We’re going to the cops to help you find it!” Wang Bo said mockingly.

Monica giggled lightly, and the Maserati rolled away, leaving behind a graceful and elegant figure.

Once the car was gone, Charlie grabbed Wang Bo’s collar. “Why are you such a traitor?!”

“Traitor? Me?” Wang Bo raised his thumb. “First of all, I didn’t even get a chance to introduce you. She just greeted me out of politeness.”

He raised his index finger. “Second, did you really expect to get in her car? That was clearly just her being polite before driving off.”

Then he raised his middle finger. “And third, you betrayed me first! Damn it, you conned me into paying 400 bucks for processing fees! Why was it so expensive?!”

Now, Wang Bo was seriously considering ditching the mayor gig and becoming a chef instead—he had decent cooking skills, after all.

They checked into a nearby budget hotel. Charlie asked what for, and Wang Bo said, “To let you rest up. After flying all morning, you must be tired.”

Hearing this, Charlie grunted and said, “At least you’ve got a conscience,” then his expression brightened.