America's No. 1 financial conglomerate

"Name".

Interrogation room at the Beverly Hills Precinct, Los Angeles.

The lights were a stark white, casting a cold, lifeless glow on every corner.

The walls are a monotonous gray-white, and their rough texture seems to silently tell countless stories that have been passed down here.

The camera in the corner stares silently, like an eye that never closes, recording everything that happens here.

Two white police officers, a man and a woman, sat at a metal table, facing a young man in his twenties.

His hair was disheveled, and his wrinkled shirt gave him a disheveled look.

However, seeing him lazily slumped in the metal chair, a disdainful and mocking smile curling at the corner of his mouth, he seemed completely unconcerned about his current predicament.

He even casually twirled the platinum cufflinks on his shirt, his gaze sweeping over everything in the interrogation room, as if he hadn't heard the other person's question at all.

"I'm asking you a question, your name."

The young man's behavior clearly angered the older white police officer, who raised his voice and questioned him again.

The other party gave a wicked smile and after a long pause uttered a name, "John".

"Mr. Ernst Garfield, when did you change your name?"

Ernst scoffed, "Knowing this already, why are you still asking? Is it even meaningful?"

He tapped the metal table in front of him. "Do you know how much money I donate to your police department's foundation every month? Everything here owes something to me. Is this how you treat taxpayers and honorary citizens of Los Angeles?"

He pointed his thumb towards the one-way glass on one side and said, "That old guy Alk is probably watching from next door, right? Why don't you have him come and ask me?"

Ernst was also furious; he had transmigrated and was now in bed.

It's alright in bed, there's a stunningly beautiful woman there too.

At this moment, why would I still be thinking about why I'm in this unfamiliar environment? Am I still a man?

It's very smooth, but why is it so much bigger?

Before I could even think, the police knocked on the door.

Ernst was startled, thinking to himself, "Do the police in this beautiful country have nothing to do, especially in Los Angeles, the entertainment capital of California?"

You guys can have fun with leaves and nobody cares, so why should I care?

Before he could even react, he was taken to the police station.

Along the way, Ernst figured everything out.

He was arrested not because of any prostitute, but because someone reported him for rapping.

What Ernst couldn't understand was how he, a top student who graduated from a prestigious 985 university, had traveled from Shanghai in 2026 to Los Angeles in 1996 and become a 24-year-old named Ernst Garfield.

However, the original owner of this body had a good background: a wealthy young man who became famous at a young age.

His father was a senior executive at MGM and also owned a significant number of shares.

Unfortunately, they didn't have time to enjoy life, as they died in a plane crash last year.

Ernst inherited the entire estate, a fortune of $2800 million.

As for why Ernst was chosen, it's because his mother, Svetlana, and his father, Galin, had been divorced for over three years, making Ernst the first in line to the throne.

He himself is quite talented; he wrote a bestselling novel during his college years and earned a fortune of millions of dollars.

Therefore, he is not worried about his current situation at all. This is the free United States, where capital is the law, and he is lucky enough to be a member of the group that owns capital.

"Mr. Ernst, please correct your attitude. We will not forcibly summon you without solid evidence."

Summoned? You seem to have a misunderstanding of the term "summoned".

"Evidence?" Ernst smiled dismissively. "Show it to me."

The male police officers looked disgusted by Ernst's attitude; when had they ever been treated like this?

However, knowing the other party's background, she still gave a signal. Then, the policewoman operated on the heavy laptop for a while and turned the screen towards Ernst.

The footage shows a man and a woman in very clear every moment from the moment they enter the hotel, but some overly revealing scenes have obviously been cut.

The video was very long, a full 91 minutes. Ernst thought to himself, "They're really good at editing."

"Mr. Ernst, the evidence is irrefutable. Do you have anything else to say?"

"What are you talking about?" Ernst shrugged. "It was just a hug, is that illegal?"

The policewoman was furious. "You call this hugging? Hugging without clothes on?"

"Who said I wasn't wearing any clothes? Did I walk into the hotel naked?"

"I meant in bed," the male police officer said, clearly angry, his voice rising considerably.

Ernst stared intently at the screen for several moments, his expression calm. "Yes, I was talking about in bed. There's something wrong with your equipment. We were dressed at the time, but your equipment just didn't register it."

The two were stunned and speechless, wondering how someone could be so shameless.

Before the two police officers could speak again, the interrogation room door opened. A lean old man appeared in the doorway, his police uniform impeccably clean and neat. However, what immediately caught the eye was the large gold watch on his wrist, which occasionally flashed with a dazzling light.

Rolex, Ernst knew it.

It wasn't because he saw the mark, but because the watch was a gift from Ernst to the other party, costing him over 20,000 US dollars.

The reason is simple: Ernst was speeding and crashed into someone's house.

"Ernst, I'm sorry I'm late and that my friend has been wronged."

The visitor looked genuinely sincere, as if he were addressing a close friend. Ernst, however, inwardly scoffed; he knew his lawyer had arrived.

"Director Alk, you've arrived just in time."

Ernst chuckled twice, expressing his dissatisfaction.

"I'm sorry, I just got back to the police station. My secretary told me your agent and lawyer had arrived, and that's how I found out you were arrested."

Ernst shook his head. "It's 'please,' not 'arrest.'"

This is important; the cameras in the interrogation room are still on.

"Please assist in the investigation" means "to arrest" a criminal suspect.

Once he admits to the arrest, it's considered an indirect admission of his crime. Ernst can't guarantee that Alk, that vampire, won't maliciously edit the footage.

Alk paused for a moment, but quickly recovered.

For a moment, he felt a little dazed; Ernst seemed like a completely different person to him.

The other party used to be arrogant and domineering, relying on his father's connections in Hollywood and his own early fame to act recklessly in Hollywood.

Ernst's scandals were so numerous that even tabloids were unwilling to report on them, and the public was simply tired of them.

Don't let his young age of 24 fool you; the women he's slept with could fill a reinforced regiment and still have enough to fill a guard company.

With a powerful father in Hollywood and a young, wealthy man, even knowing what kind of person Ernst was, many women still chose to be drawn to him like moths to a flame.

Some people want to connect with his network and befriend more Hollywood elites.

Some women, however, are confident in themselves and believe they can keep this Hollywood playboy and marry into a wealthy family.

But today's situation changed Alker's previous impression of Ernst. Perhaps the other man wasn't a fool after all?

"Yes, please. Please ask Mr. Garfield to come and assist with the investigation."

Ernst didn't want to waste time with pleasantries and nonsense. "May I leave now?"

"Of course," Alk nodded. "If I need your cooperation later, I will communicate with you personally."

Ernst narrowed his eyes; this meant a benefit was coming.

"Willing to cooperate."

Ernst left, and his lawyer handled the rest of the matter.

Upon arriving at the police station, agent Craig was waiting beside his Volvo.

Upon seeing Ernst, Craig jogged over, and the two talked as they walked.

"The situation is a bit troublesome, but don't worry, Wenger has already come up with a solution. Remember, just insist that it was consensual."

The car started, and Ernst nestled in the passenger seat, listening to Craig's instructions.

"Someone is trying to get me."

Ernst's face was gloomy and terrifyingly dark.

This was clearly a premeditated act; he had been outmaneuvered.

But then again, what good would it do to force them?

Such things are all too common in the financial world. Unless someone is backing them up, the other party would never dare to call the police.

As long as she wants to continue her career in Hollywood, this is tantamount to cutting off her own escape route.

Are female characters so easy to obtain? Any significant role has a price tag.

Becoming famous overnight? There's no such thing as pure luck.

The entertainment industry is essentially about exchanging charisma for status.

If you have mobility issues and can't separate your legs, you should leave this industry as soon as possible.

If the other party dares to do something like that, it's because someone promised them benefits that they couldn't refuse.

Furthermore, the fact that the police dared to come directly to his door and take him to the police station clearly indicates that someone had pulled strings to make this happen while he was alone.

If it were the arrogant and domineering Ernst of the past, he would definitely be spouting nonsense and leaving evidence for others. Fortunately, he called Craig immediately.

"I don't know yet, but I'll find out."