Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

The docks of New York Harbor were unusually noisy today, with the sea breeze carrying the mournful whistles of ship horns, making people feel uneasy.

The President Wilson stood like a giant steel island moored on the shore, its smokestacks billowing black smoke that obscured half the sky. But at the boarding ramp, the atmosphere was as cold as solidified cement.

A dozen FBI agents stood in a line, their eyes sharper than eagles. Next to them stood fully armed military police, their dark gun barrels seemingly scanning every yellow-skinned face.

Shen Jinghong stood in the queue, clutching the thin boat ticket in her hand.

He was wearing a faded gray trench coat with worn cuffs, looking every bit like a poor, dejected international student who couldn't make it in the US and had to slink back home.

"Next!"

The person in charge of the inspection was FBI Special Agent Smith. At that moment, he had dark circles under his eyes, his tie was askew, and he exuded an aura of impending explosion.

Last night's series of "paranormal thefts" was driving him crazy. The Pentagon's phone rang almost every ten minutes, filled with General Wilson's roars.

Shen Jinghong stepped forward and handed over her passport and boat ticket.

Smith took the passport but didn't rush to open it. Instead, he stared intently at Shen Jinghong's face. Then, he took out the blurry CCTV photo from his pocket and compared it to Shen Jinghong's face.

Like.

so similar.

Although the photo only shows the back and half of the face, the slender and upright figure is exactly the same.

"Shen Jinghong?"

As Smith pronounced the name, he gritted his teeth, as if trying to chew those syllables to pieces. "A double PhD from MIT. I heard you're a genius in aerodynamics? What, America couldn't keep such a talent?"

"Sir, you jest."

Shen Jinghong pushed up his glasses, a typical nerdy grin spreading across his face. "What genius or not, I just miss home. The burgers here are awful, I want to go back and have a bowl of noodles with soybean paste."

"homesick?"

Smith sneered, slammed his passport shut, and his bloodshot eyes loomed close to Shen Jinghong's, their noses almost touching. "Where were you between 8 PM last night and 4 AM this morning?"

"Sleeping on a park bench."

Shen Jinghong answered flawlessly, with a touch of perfectly timed embarrassment in her tone, "Because I didn't want to pay the last night's rent, I wanted to save some money. You know, we poor students have to stretch every penny in half."

"save money?"

Smith seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world. He suddenly waved his hand, and two military police officers behind him rushed forward and roughly shoved Shen Jinghong onto the examination table.

"Search! Strip him clean! Don't leave even the gaps between his teeth!"

This was a truly humiliating search.

Shen Jinghong's trench coat was ripped off, and the pockets were turned inside out. Even the soles of his shoes were pried open to check for any hidden compartments.

However, the result was destined to disappoint Smith.

Apart from a few crumpled small-denomination US dollars, a well-worn fountain pen, and a boat ticket home, Shen Jinghong was cleaner than a newborn baby.

Forget tens of thousands of tons of equipment and gold, there wasn't even a single piece of draft paper with formulas written on it.

"This is impossible..."

Smith stared at the empty desk, veins throbbing on his forehead. His intuition told him that this seemingly harmless young man was the "ghost" who had stripped the Pentagon bare.

But he had no evidence.

In this country that values ​​the "rule of law," at least on the surface, he cannot detain a legitimate passenger who has no contraband in full view of the public.

"Sir, may I leave now?"

As Shen Jinghong slowly put on her trench coat and straightened her disheveled collar, her eyes were as calm as a deep pool of water. "The ship is about to depart. If I miss it, I'll probably have to sleep on the streets."

Smith gripped the passport tightly, his knuckles turning white with force.

He really wanted to pull out his gun and shoot that bastard. But he knew that if he opened fire, the resulting diplomatic disputes and public pressure would be enough to land him in jail for life.

"roll!"

Smith spat out the word through gritted teeth, slamming his passport down on Shen Jinghong. "Don't think you've won. As long as you're on this ship, I'll be watching you!"

"Thank you for letting me through, sir."

Shen Jinghong picked up the passport, dusted it off, nodded politely, and then turned to walk towards the boarding stairs.

The instant his feet touched the deck.

[Ding! Host has successfully boarded the ship and escaped the core blockade zone of the United States mainland.]

[Phase One Mission: "Free Shopping in Manhattan" Successfully Completed!]

[Reward: Mental energy fully restored! Spatial capacity doubled!]

boom!

A cool breeze instantly swept over my entire body. My brain, which had been throbbing from the continuous high-intensity lifting, felt as if it were being soaked in an icy spring, and all the fatigue and pain vanished in an instant.

Shen Jinghong took a deep breath of the salty sea breeze, feeling as if every one of her 36,000 pores had opened up.

"Ugh—!!!"

A deafening blast of the ship's horn echoed through the sky, causing the deck beneath our feet to tremble slightly. The ship began to slowly move away from the shore, white waves churning around its sides.

Shen Jinghong walked to the railing at the stern of the ship and looked at the steel jungle that was slowly receding into the distance.

New York, the city hailed as the center of the world, is currently shrouded in chaos and panic. The sirens can be faintly heard even several nautical miles away—the furious roar of the American military.

Goodbye, ex.

Shen Jinghong tapped her fingers lightly on the railing, a relieved smile playing on her lips. "Although I took some breakup money from you, don't hold a grudge. After all, these things were originally plundered from the whole world by you, so I'm just doing what's right."

His gaze passed over the murky sea and landed in the distant east.

There are no skyscrapers, no dazzling lights, and you might not even have enough to eat.

The place was devastated and in dire need of reconstruction.

But in Shen Jinghong's eyes, that place was his true love, the place he longed for.

Because that's where his roots are, where those most beloved people are, and where a great nation is struggling to rise again.

"Wait for me."

He murmured softly, his hand instinctively covering his chest. In that otherworldly space lay the future of a nation.

"In this life, I will never let you suffer the slightest injustice again. Now that I'm back, that rabbit must stand up straight!"

The sea breeze tousled his hair, but it couldn't dispel the burning passion in his eyes.

Shen Jinghong turned around, preparing to return to her cabin to rest. The acting and psychological battle she had just fought, though seemingly effortless, had indeed taken a toll on her mental energy.

The ship's corridors were narrow and dark, filled with the smell of old engine oil and seawater.

He carried the empty suitcase (used as a prop), his mind still preoccupied with how to categorize and organize the pile of blueprints for Mr. Qian and the others to see.

We just turned a corner.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud.

He bumped right into someone walking towards him.

It was an extremely soft touch, accompanied by a faint jasmine scent, instantly dispelling the musty smell in the corridor.

"Feel sorry."

Shen Jinghong instinctively reached out to support her, preventing her from falling.

The first thing you see is a face that is extremely aloof.

She didn't have the permed hair and heavy makeup common in this era; instead, she had long, straight, jet-black hair casually tied back. Her skin was very fair, a pale white that had never seen the sun. She wore black-rimmed glasses, but they couldn't hide the cold, piercing light in her eyes.

She was wearing a beige trench coat and carrying a heavy leather suitcase, exuding an aura that said "keep away."

Lin Qinghan.

The future mother of Chinese cryptography, the legendary female scientist who remained unmarried her entire life in order to crack enemy codes.

Shen Jinghong's heart skipped a beat. In his previous life, he had only seen this goddess from afar in textbooks and at award ceremonies. He never expected that their first encounter in this life would be under such an awkward situation.

The other person was clearly also quite shaken by the impact, his brows furrowing slightly as he subtly withdrew the arm that Shen Jinghong was supporting.

She pushed up her glasses, her gaze sweeping over Shen Jinghong's seemingly ordinary face, her voice as cold as shards of ice hitting glass:

"Sir, when you're walking, your eyes are for seeing where you're going, not for daydreaming."