Keep Up the Momentum, Strike Again

"That hit the spot!"

Shen Yan pounded the steering wheel, his grin nearly reaching his ears.

The system notifications kept dinging in his head, all of them rewards of Good and Evil Points for kills. As he drove, he glanced at the panel-the numbers were spinning wildly, like a slot machine hitting the jackpot.

[Japanese sentries killed ×12, Good and Evil Points +1200]

[Arsenal defenders killed ×9, Good and Evil Points +900]

[Japanese arsenal destroyed, reward: Good and Evil Points +5000]

[Current Good and Evil Points: 7200]

It wasn't over. The secondary explosions continued in the distance, shells igniting one after another, the blasts rattling on like firecrackers. Every explosion claimed several lives, and every life became a number ticking up on the panel.

Ten minutes later, his Good and Evil Points settled at 102000.

Shen Yan had never felt so rich! As he drove, he opened the shop, his finger hovering over the space expansion option for a second before he tapped it hard.

[Portable Space expansion]

[Current capacity: 50 cubic meters]

[Expand to 1000 cubic meters: 100000 Good and Evil Points]

[Ding! 10000 Good and Evil Points deducted. Current Good and Evil Points: 2000]

[Portable Space expanded to 1000 cubic meters]

A thousand cubic meters! The ammunition crates that had nearly filled the space before now sat in a corner like a small pile of building blocks. Next time, he could empty the entire warehouse.

Shen Yan nodded in satisfaction, then looked at his remaining 2000 Good and Evil Points and clicked his tongue.

Damn it! That was an impulse buy...

Echoes of explosions and screams rising and falling came from the distance. Shen Yan shook his head, put the pain of spending the points behind him, restarted the truck, and raced toward the docks.

The docks were in an uproar.

All the Japanese soldiers had been jolted awake by the earthshaking explosion and were staring in panic at the distant flames. Half the sky was red, thick smoke billowed upward, and even the moon was hidden. Some shouted "Enemy attack," some shouted "Put out the fire," and others shouted "Fall in." The voices mingled in utter chaos.

The officer in charge of the guard force frantically cranked the telephone in his office, but no one ever answered-the headquarters had long since been blown away, and whoever would have answered the phone had probably been blown away too.

"Honk-!"

Shen Yan leaned on the horn as the truck hurtled into the docks, its tires screeching against the ground. A sentry hurried forward to stop him, rifle in hand and muzzle pointed at the cab.

"Out of the way! I need to see the commanding officer! Urgent orders!"

The sentry hesitated, then saw that it was a military truck and that the man inside was wearing a Japanese uniform, his face deathly pale and his head covered in sweat. He waved him through.

The truck raced straight to the entrance of the dock office building and screeched to a stop. Shen Yan jumped out and staggered toward the building, shouting as he ran, "Sir! Sir!"

The garrison commander rushed out of his office. He was a lieutenant colonel in his forties, and he hadn't even had time to button his uniform properly; his belt hung crookedly to one side. When he saw Shen Yan, his expression changed. "Ōtomo? What are you doing here? What happened?"

Shen Yan braced himself against a table, gasping as though he had run dozens of miles. His face was as white as paper, sweat dripped from his chin, and his lips trembled several times before he managed to force out the words:

"Sir... the Marine Corps headquarters building was attacked! The arsenal was detonated, and the losses are severe! The commanding officer ordered the entire dock garrison to provide support..."

With that, his eyes rolled back, and he pitched forward.

The garrison commander caught him, both anxious and furious. "Baka!"

He turned and roared, "Medic! Get him to the infirmary! First and second squads, fall in! Move out in five minutes!"

He paused, swept his gaze over the ships moored at the docks, and lowered his voice to speak to his adjutant. "Third squad will guard the docks. The other merchant ships aren't important-you must protect the Shinshu Maru. It's carrying important supplies back home. If anything happens to them, we're all dead!"

"Yes, sir!"

The adjutant turned and ran out.

Two soldiers carried Shen Yan toward the infirmary, his eyes closed and his breathing faint, limp as a rag. But his ears were pricked higher than a rabbit's.

Shinshu Maru. Got it.

The footsteps at the docks gradually receded. The first and second squads set off at a run, their boots tapping in unison on the concrete, the sound growing fainter and more distant.

The infirmary was a small room on the first floor of the dock office building, furnished with a camp bed, a medicine cabinet, and a table. The military doctor had been called away to treat the explosion's casualties, leaving the infirmary empty.

The two soldiers put Shen Yan on the camp bed and left immediately.

The third squad was on guard at the docks.

The twenty-odd soldiers had divided into three groups. One guarded the dock entrance, one patrolled back and forth along the docks, and one crouched in front of the Shinshu Maru's gangplank, rifles resting against their shoulders as they watched the docks.

No one noticed a transparent shadow dart out of the office building, hug the base of the wall, and approach the Shinshu Maru without a sound.

Eighteen seconds of invisibility remained.

Shen Yan strode quickly across the concrete dock, went around two patrolmen, and climbed over the ship's rail beside the gangplank. He moved lightly, like a cat, without making a sound. One of the soldiers guarding the gangplank seemed to sense something and turned to look-there was nothing there. He rubbed his eyes and continued watching the area in front of him.

Six seconds of invisibility remained.

Shen Yan climbed into the hold and slipped behind a pile of cargo. His invisibility wore off.

He crouched in the dark, breathing heavily. On the minimap, yellow dots crowded the area outside the hold, but inside it-there were none.

There were no Japanese soldiers. The ship had already been loaded and was only waiting for daybreak to set sail.

Shen Yan took a flashlight out of his space, covered its head with his hand, leaving only a sliver of light, and crept down to the cargo hold at the bottom of the ship.

Wooden crates were stacked neatly in the hold, far more finely made than those in the arsenal. Some were painted, some bore seals, and some were stamped in red with "Imperial Japan Navy Ministry."

He pried open the nearest crate.

Gold flashed in his eyes.

The crate was full of gold bars, each stamped with the Bank of Japan's mark. He opened his space and swept all the gold bars inside. The crate beside it held porcelain-blue-and-white porcelain vases, underglaze-red porcelain, famille-rose bowls, and doucai chicken cups. Next to that were paintings and calligraphy-the crate was packed with scrolls. Shen Yan had no time to open them, but their mounting was exquisitely done.

Next to those were bronzes. One was a bronze ding, palm-sized and covered in green patina, with intricate designs, three legs resting on the ground, and two handles that flared slightly outward. Shen Yan knew nothing about antiques, but he knew this belonged to their ancestors.

Next to those were jade pieces: a white jade Guanyin, a jadeite thumb ring, and a landscape ornament carved from Hetian pebble jade-every piece was a national treasure, and every piece belonged in China.

Shen Yan pried crates open faster and faster, and their contents vanished one by one. Gold bars, silver dollars, porcelain, paintings and calligraphy, bronzes, jade pieces, ivory Buddha statues, rare ancient books, kesi silk Buddha images-

The space filled bit by bit, and his heart sank with it.

Every one of these things had been stolen from China. Behind each one was a village burned to the ground, a temple bombed flat, a collector's entire family wiped out.

Forty minutes later, the hold was empty.

The crates in the hold were empty, that is. Shen Yan thoughtfully closed the lids on all hundred-odd of them.

In the space, they formed a small mountain. Gold bars, silver dollars, antiques, paintings and calligraphy, and Buddha statues were piled together, gleaming faintly.

Shen Yan stood up and took one last look at the empty wooden crates filling the hold.

He wouldn't leave a single bomb. He would let this ship make it safely to Japan.

And then?

When the ship reached Japan, the Japanese would open the hold and find nothing inside.

More than a hundred crates, all empty.

What would they think? Had the cargo been stolen? By whom? Where had it been stolen? Shanghai? Or at sea? They would suspect, distrust, and blame one another. The transport troops would blame the garrison, the garrison would blame the military police, and the military police would blame the Naval Intelligence Department. They would investigate for months and argue for months, and in the end, no one would know where those hundred-odd crates of treasure had gone.

That was true revenge. Not just killing and setting fires-it was making them hurt, making them afraid, and leaving them not knowing whom to cry out to when they hurt.

The corners of Shen Yan's mouth lifted slightly.

He walked to the ship's rail and opened the minimap. The yellow dots outside were still in place-the guards at the gangplank were dozing, the patrol had just passed by, and the docks were quiet.

In the distance, the arsenal was still burning, half the sky red. Fire engines, ambulances, and military police vehicles clogged North Sichuan Road, their sirens mingling with shouts and cries. Fire hoses lay all over the ground, and jets of water shot into the sea of flames, sending steam and thick smoke surging skyward.

Shen Yan stood on the ship and watched for a while.

Enough.

He silently said to himself, Recall.

His consciousness returned to his original body.

Shen Yan lay in his hospital bed and opened his eyes. Firelight glowed outside the window, and sirens sounded from the distant streets.

He turned over and pulled the blanket up a little.

[Ding! Successfully destroyed the Japanese Hongkou arsenal, reward: Good and Evil Points +5000]

[Ding! Successfully intercepted cultural relics and gold bars looted by the Japanese military, reward: Good and Evil Points +3000]

[Ding! Successfully created the illusion of the "Scavenger Organization," misleading the Japanese investigation, reward: Good and Evil Points +800]

[Current Good and Evil Points: 10800]

Shen Yan looked at the number on the panel and suddenly smiled.

More than ten thousand Good and Evil Points. A thousand cubic meters of space. A mountain of ammunition in the warehouse, and a mountain of gold bars and antiques in his space.

This haul was a huge profit.

He closed his eyes and soon fell asleep.

He slept through the night without dreaming.