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Chapter 30 The Master of Catching Adultery

Ernst was satisfied with the publishing contract for the fourth installment of The Hunger Games and didn't dwell on the possibility of increasing revenue by one or two percentage points.

The novel was merely a tool for accumulating capital in the early stages. It is estimated that this novel will be his final work, after which he will remain hidden from public view.

He signed his name with a flourish, then turned around and kicked Craig, the meritorious contributor, out of the picture.

Craig stared at him expectantly, his eyes seeming to say, "Are you really not going to leave me any food?"

Ernst wasn't buying it. This guy was a complete glutton, and Ernst wasn't going to fight pigs for food.

After shooing away Craig, who kept turning back to go to the kitchen to greet Liu Huiying, Ernst shouted at the top of his lungs, "Lowe, Ron, time to go for a walk!"

No sooner had the words left her mouth than two little bulldogs darted out of the kitchen, their underdeveloped tails wagging like runaway electric fans. Anyone who didn't know better would think they were performing a love magic spin.

These two little guys are Roger's puppies, and they were two of the puppies he met when he returned to the farm who had parvovirus.

Westerners love dogs, and Ernst was no exception, so he brought the two little guys back with him this time.

American Bulldogs are definitely more prestigious than other bulldogs.

Compared to tailless English Bulldogs and gentle French Bulldogs, this dog is definitely the Schwarzenegger of the canine world, all muscle and a walking bodybuilding champion, looking incredibly imposing.

Not only are they fierce in appearance, but they are also very strong in combat. Ernst brought these two dogs back not without the intention of finding two free mobile security guards.

Although it is only 4 months old, it has already grown to the size of an adult French Bulldog.

The two little guys have inherited their father Roger's perfect genes, with very large frames. They will probably grow into big calves when they grow up.

"You do absolutely nothing all day, eat from the same pot, poop all over the bed, and leave trash all over the windowsill. I brought you two back to guard the house, not for you to watch over the pots and pans. Can you please stop standing around in the kitchen all day when I'm cooking, unable to move an inch?"

With the dogs on leashes, Ernst thought to himself that in just a few days, these two dogs had become completely spoiled.

When someone rings the doorbell, the two little guys don't respond. But when Liu Huiying goes to the kitchen to get a bowl, the two little ones happily follow her in.

Ernst pointed at the two dog heads and gave them a lecture.

"You two need to be more careful. Without Pi Yanzi keeping an eye on you, your hearts would be pulled out. You spend your time thinking about me when nothing's wrong, but I'm counting on you two when something happens."

I don't know if they could understand me, but they did respond with two "Wangwang" messages, so their attitude was clear.

Sunglasses, baggy shorts, a white t-shirt, and casual shoes.

With his tall, strong physique and handsome face, he strolled confidently along the beach of Miramar with Rowe and Ron in his arms.

September in California is as hot as a giant oven. By morning, Miramar Beach had already turned into a meat market, with naked, lustful bodies everywhere.

However, these ordinary women no longer caught Ernst's eye. There were a few who met his standards, but none of them showed any interest in pursuing him.

Sure enough, those who are confident in their appearance are reserved. However, based on Ernst's in-depth understanding of Hollywood actresses these days, he has also come to a conclusion.

Once they got the hang of it, each one was more flamboyant than the last.

After finding a secluded spot with few people, Ernst released the two dogs from their leashes and casually sat on the beach, enjoying the salty sea breeze and the gentle California sunshine.

Just as he was about to lie down, a scream pierced the sky, startling him from the suddenness.

Following the sound, good heavens, a white woman wearing only a thong, her bra nowhere to be seen, came running out from behind the rocky beach. Her large breasts were barely covered by her arms, and she was accompanied by a man's angry curses and the barking of dogs.

Ernst almost burst out laughing; he never expected his dog to be such a master at catching adulterers.

The woman's trembling, arms-covering-her-chest posture as she fled did not attract much attention from those nearby.

The rugged rock formations along the beach are a thrilling base camp, and a favorite spot for children, with balloons scattered all over the ground.

However, such things mostly happen at night. After dark, the scene changes drastically, with moaning sounds rising and falling, like a duck's nest, and the 3D surround sound effect is turned up to the maximum.

No visuals are needed; just the sound alone is enough to send hormones surging. And in complete darkness, everyone looks like a pixelated image from five meters away, making it incredibly popular with men.

One night, Ernst came to see the sea and almost thought that an adult film crew was shooting a movie there, a battle involving hundreds of people.

"Lowe, Ron."

He quickly called the two troublemakers back, and as for the couple whose good time had been ruined, he simply chose to selectively forget them.

Lying on the beach, enjoying the West Coast sunshine, Ernst was very satisfied with this pleasant life.

"Hey buddy, shouldn't you say something?"

He opened his eyes and saw a huge figure looming overhead, like a parasol, casting a shadow over half of Ernst's body.

"What are you saying? With your looks, are you lacking women on Miramar Beach?"

The man was pleased with the compliment, beaming as he plopped down next to Ernst. Looking at Rowe and Ron, who were watching him warily, he remarked, "You two are really good kids."

"They must be less than six months old, right? They're at that playful age, but ever since I came to your side, these two little ones have been on guard."

Ernst smiled and decided to go back and give the two little guys extra chicken legs. He hadn't expected the two of them to be such practical fighters.

"Only four months."

The two dogs were large, noticeably more robust than most bulldogs, so it's not surprising that the other party suspected they were six months old.

"Only four months?"

The man's eyes gleamed, his obvious delight written all over his face.

The man casually pulled two cans of beer from his travel bag, acting rather familiar.

"Would you like a bottle?"

Ernst sat up, becoming wary.

"You seem to be in trouble?"

Ernst frowned again. "Why do you say that?"

The other person opened a can of beer and took a sip. "Others might not notice, but I can see your tense body and defensive posture."

"With your arms supporting you behind you and your right leg bent, you can instantly create some distance between yourself and me with a little effort, avoiding my close-range attacks."

The man smiled and said, "But all of this is in vain. If it were me, one bullet would have solved the problem."

Ernst became interested, crossed his legs to find a more comfortable position, and picked up the unopened beer that the other person had left on the beach.

"You served in the military?"

The Navy SEALs were proud, a pride that emanated from within.

No wonder they have such keen insight. The current SEALs are definitely the elite of the US military, carrying out the most dangerous missions.

Throughout the 1990s, the United States had numerous operations overseas, and these Navy SEALs were people who could easily lose their lives if they weren't careful; they were people who had crawled out of dangerous situations.

"Are you interested in changing jobs?"

The man was taken aback and looked at him questioningly.

"How about becoming my bodyguard? I'll pay you $100,000 a year."

In 1995, American salaries reached a new high, with per capita GDP just over $30,000. Bodyguards earned more, but few could reach $100,000.

Ernst had always wanted to choose a reliable bodyguard, after all, the country was just too chaotic.

Ernst thought the person in front of him was just right. He was thoughtful, a former Navy SEAL, and his combat skills were definitely not to be underestimated. He was the dream man.

He thought the high salary would overwhelm the other party, but instead he was met with a burst of laughter, the vibrations of his muscular chest causing the sand on his clothes to fall off.

"One hundred thousand US dollars? That's quite a salary."

Ernst could tell that, while it wasn't mockery, it was somewhat teasing, or rather, amusing.

That's when it dawned on me—they weren't short of money.

Without feeling embarrassed, he extended his large, well-defined hand with long, slender fingers and said, "Excuse me, let me formally introduce myself, Ernst Garfield."

The man's rough, calloused hands gripped his hand with the strength of an iron clamp. "Eric Prince, you're an interesting person. I like you."

"Eric Prince?"

Ernst was startled again as his sunglasses slipped down to the tip of his nose.

No way, you can run into a future genius just by walking your dog?