After every gunshot, the rifling leaves a trace on the bullet, much like a fingerprint. These traces are unique to each gun, just as fingerprints are unique to individuals.
All the legal firearms or those found at crime scenes have their traces recorded. This way, any issues that arise can be promptly traced back.
Hence, for many criminals operating outside the law, it's necessary to acquire what they call a "clean" firearm before executing their plans. This prevents them from being immediately identified by the authorities.
In the two backpacks, Liang En and his companions found a total of $65,000. All the bills were non-consecutive, old notes. A small portion was in hundred-dollar bills, while the rest were twenties.
As portrayed in movies, Americans generally don't favor using $100 bills, so most of what they found were twenties.
Next came the task of cleaning up the battlefield, aside from collecting the spent bullet casings. They started sorting the items on the scene into categories.
Although firearms and the flashy gold chains and plates on the bodies of the fallen could fetch a good price, Liang En and his companions refrained from touching the deceased's personal belongings. They knew these items would undoubtedly lead to trouble.
"We can take this money," Barry commented. Evidently experienced in this realm, he quickly assessed what was worth taking. "Spending these old bills is safe; no one can trace their origins."
Liang En nodded. While his experience in this area was close to zero, he had at least watched Hollywood movies. Illicit dealings in movies often mentioned the prototype of non-consecutive $20 old bills.
The two proceeded to roughly erase their footprints from the vicinity. They disassembled the illegal guns and disposed of the parts in various crevices and valleys nearby, contributing to the local law enforcement.
Given the rugged terrain, some things might be visible but reclaiming them would require a lengthy detour. Therefore, even if subsequent individuals stumbled upon some components of the illegal guns, they would essentially be rendered useless.
"This place is relatively close to the Indian reservation," Barry remarked as they continued on with their spoils.
"I guess this is a problem created by the Americans themselves for the Native Americans who were pushed into this wilderness," Liang En shook his head and commented. "If it weren't for this, they might have starved."
After an hour of walking, having distanced themselves from the crime scene, Barry suddenly asked, "Was that your first time shooting someone?"
"Yeah," Liang En nodded. Even counting his experience from another world, this was his first time shooting at something other than a target.
"That's a natural knack for being a soldier you have," Barry praised. "No reaction at the sight of a corpse for the first time shows you have courage, and your determination is resolute."
"Not as impressive as you make it sound," Liang En chuckled and shook his head. "I actually think it might be because my reactions are slower than others', so I don't feel fear."
"Plus, they were trying to kill me after all, so it's a justified act of self-defense for me to have killed them. In this situation, I don't need to feel regret or guilt for taking their lives."
He had another reason he hadn't mentioned: after multiple doses of the Golden Finger's influence, he found his willpower had unexpectedly strengthened. So, Liang En felt that the Viking's card significantly enhanced this aspect for him.
Due to the recent encounter, Liang En and his companions unconsciously quickened their pace. They even chose to forgo rest and continued through the night, finally returning to the entrance of the valley after 3 AM the next day.
The pickup truck parked here was almost identical to when they departed. If any difference existed, it was a visible layer of yellow dust.
"We're safe now. I don't think those people will be able to find us," Barry remarked after driving back onto the interstate highway and traveling for about ten minutes.
After all, the wild Utah countryside wasn't like downtown New York City; there were no surveillance cameras here. As long as they stayed far away from the sparsely populated conflict scene and avoided getting caught red-handed, no one would guess what they had been up to in the mountains.
Of course, it was for this very reason that many things hidden beneath the surface of society took place quietly in such remote wilderness areas, far from the public eye.
Unlike when they had arrived, this time, with substantial cash and jewelry in tow, flying back was naturally inappropriate due to security concerns.
Considering safety, the next morning, after communicating with Bruce over the phone from Salt Lake City, the two rented an SUV and began driving north.
The reason for heading north was simple. Christmas was just two days away, so Mr. Bruce had chosen to spend the holiday in Teton County, Wyoming, with his family.
It had to be said that in the birthplace of car culture, renting a car in the United States was a straightforward affair. Thus, Liang En and his companions easily found a chain rental car shop and completed the paperwork for returning the car across state lines.
The distance from Salt Lake City to Teton County was 290 miles, and if they drove non-stop, it would take five to six hours to reach their destination.
"Salt Lake City is considered the core area of the Mormon religion, and the city's establishment is also connected to the early Mormon pioneers—" Barry talked incessantly, introducing Liang En to the general situation of the locations they passed along the way.
As the vehicle left the city behind, the scenery transitioned from various buildings to factory chimneys. Then, it became a wasteland covered in dry grass and distant barren mountains.
Both Utah and Wyoming were classic Western states and still sparsely populated to this day. Apart from the occasional small towns or gas stations along the road, the unchanging Western wilderness remained.
The destination of Liang En's journey, Teton County, was most notable for having the highest average income per capita in the United States.
Contrary to what people might expect, the place with the highest per capita income wasn't the bustling New York or a city in California. Instead, it was this small area near Yellowstone National Park.
At first glance, this bare and rustic countryside didn't appear to have anything exceptional. Neither ski slopes, the beautiful Rockies' scenery, nor a good spot for camping in national parks had much to do with this place.
The reason why the wealthy chose to live here was simple: Wyoming doesn't have personal or corporate income tax.
As long as you swear to the tax authorities that you live in Wyoming (which is quite easy to legally achieve), you can save a considerable amount of taxes.
However, the irony was that the cheapest houses here had rents around $5,000 a month, and housing prices easily reached a million dollars.
Hence, ordinary people who worked here had to drive for 45 minutes every day, navigating through the steep mountain roads of Yellowstone Park to return to their homes in Iowa.
What's even worse, if the common snowstorms typical of the region occurred, these people might end up stuck in their cars for several days.