Stansfield clearly didn't have much of an artistic soul, just like Hunter used to.
So inside this underground shelter—where Stansfield hid the black money he'd earned over the years—there were no oil paintings or antiques.
In a corner, Hunter saw five alloy cases of identical size, and more than a dozen huge travel bags that looked stuffed full.
He strode over, and easily opened one of the locked alloy cases.
The moment it opened, his eyes lit up.
Inside were all kinds of gold coins—some antique coins, some modern investment coins.
He lifted the pile and weighed it in his hands; it had to be well over a hundred kilograms.
He didn't know their exact value, but guessed it couldn't be less than a million dollars.
He immediately put it away, then opened the remaining cases one by one, scanning them quickly before storing them as well.
It wasn't that he didn't know time was tight—he needed to confirm what was inside so he could decide what to take and what to leave.
Of the remaining four cases, three were filled with small gold bars.
They weren't large—100g, 200g, and 500g bars.
When needed, these were far easier to move than the large gold bricks he'd stolen from Steve earlier.
He weighed them; the three cases together were probably seven or eight hundred kilograms.
Their value was close to ten million dollars.
The last case held the least.
When Hunter opened it, it was mostly jewelry—diamond- and gemstone-studded pieces.
There were also about twenty luxury watches, some new, some used, most in decent condition.
Since he'd researched watches after finding some in Steve's safe earlier, a quick glance gave him a rough estimate.
More than ten of the watches were worth tens of thousands to over a hundred thousand dollars each.
Only five were worth over two or three hundred thousand, and only one exceeded seven hundred thousand.
Just the watches alone were worth at least three to four million dollars.
After happily pocketing the cases, Hunter turned to the bulging travel bags.
He grabbed one; the weight surprised him.
"Hell—this one bag must weigh thirty kilos."
Curious what was inside, he unzipped it.
In the next instant, he saw stacks upon stacks of crisp new hundred-dollar bills.
Hunter froze, then quickly ran the math in his head.
He could no longer hide his grin.
He recalled seeing on a TV show that a new hundred-dollar bill weighs a bit over a gram.
A million dollars would weigh around ten kilograms.
If this bag was full of hundreds—even if old bills weighed a bit more—it had to contain at least two or three million dollars.
He sucked in a breath, eyes shining, and looked at the dozen-plus stuffed bags piled together.
If they were all filled with hundred-dollar bills, then the cash alone was no less than thirty to forty million dollars.
This solo raid on Stansfield's villa was a massive score.
With time running out, he couldn't afford to open every bag to verify.
He quickly stored all the travel bags into his Personal Inventory.
Only after collecting them did he notice an old office desk beside the bags.
Its drawers were locked, but that posed no challenge—he opened all three in twenty to thirty seconds.
The first drawer contained notebooks and a few discs.
He flipped through one notebook and saw records of bribes to certain LA council members, DEA superiors, and detailed drug transactions.
He didn't know what was on the discs, but decided to take them too.
Later, he could mail the material to the FBI—ensuring they wouldn't have time to watch a small fry like him for a long while.
And the Stansfield he'd offended would die an ugly death.
That was enough.
The second drawer held four thick waterproof manila envelopes.
He opened one and found bearer bonds Stansfield had purchased through various channels.
He didn't know the total value, but judging by the thickness, it was substantial.
Bearer bonds were common in the West—bonds not registered under an owner's name.
The holder collected interest via coupons, which protected anonymity but made recovery difficult if lost or destroyed.
Because they were extremely discreet, many rich people and politicians used them to hide assets or even accept bribes.
Hunter himself had previously taken bearer bonds worth two to three million dollars from Steve, though he hadn't processed them yet.
Compared to bearer bonds, he preferred converting assets into cash, gold, weapons, and supplies to store in his inventory for safety and immediate access.
He stored the bonds, then opened the last drawer.
Surprisingly, it held very little—just a few maps covered with circles and notes.
He skimmed them and guessed they were some kind of "treasure map" Stansfield had made.
Interested, he stored them as well, intending to study them later when he had time.
After all, who didn't dream of treasure hunts and adventures when they were young?
Hunter was no exception.
After packing everything, Hunter looked around the underground shelter again.
As far as he could see, there was almost nothing valuable left.
He estimated it had been more than ten minutes since he triggered the alarm.
He didn't delay any longer, and hurried back up the stairs into the villa above.
He slipped out carefully, confirmed no one was outside, then went to the front door and picked it open.
Then he sprinted—vanishing into nearby streets within moments.
A few minutes later, a police car with sirens wailing barreled into Stansfield's property at over a hundred miles per hour.
Not long after, furious roaring erupted from inside the villa.
Los Angeles was about to face a mad night.
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