Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

"Tap, tap."

The knocking wasn't loud, but carried a deliberately ambiguous rhythm. Before Shen Jinghong could speak, the doorknob was gently turned.

Fortunately, the lock on this wrecked ship had long since rusted shut. The man outside tried to turn it twice but couldn't, so he spoke again, his voice as sweet as if it contained two ounces of honey:

"Sir, could you do me a favor? My lighter is broken."

Shen Jinghong sat on the single bed, which was as hard as a steel plate, a playful sneer curling at the corner of his mouth.

Borrowing fire?

The reason was so clichéd it was practically an insult to his intelligence. In this hold filled with oil and flammable materials, no one but a madman would dare to light a fire in such an unventilated room.

But he still stood up, put the gold-rimmed glasses he had just taken off back on his nose, straightened his collar, and re-welded the "bookworm" persona onto his face.

"Click".

The door opened.

A strong, almost pungent perfume scent instantly wafted in—Dior's "Poison," an absolute luxury in this era, but in the cramped third-class cabin, the smell was like a chemical bomb.

Ruth leaned against the door frame.

She had changed her clothes; the red dress was gone, replaced by a burgundy silk robe. The belt was loosely tied, and the neckline was extremely low, revealing a large expanse of dazzling white skin and a deep, unfathomable cleavage. Her long, golden hair was casually draped over her shoulders, the ends still dripping wet, as if she had just taken a shower, exuding a wet, alluring charm.

"Is this the professionalism of American secret agents?"

Shen Jinghong cursed inwardly, "This is indecent," but on the surface, she pretended to be a naive and clueless person who had never seen the world before. Her eyes darted nervously between the ceiling and the floor, but she dared not look at that white, smooth surface.

"Um... Miss, I don't smoke, so I don't have a lighter."

He adjusted his glasses, his body stiff as he blocked the doorway, showing no intention of moving aside.

A hint of disdain flashed in Ruth's eyes.

He's just a bookworm, completely clueless, unable to grasp even such an obvious hint. But the more clueless he is, the easier he is to break through.

She suddenly clutched her chest, her brow furrowed, and her body slumped limply down the doorframe, her voice becoming weak and feeble:

"Oh God... this ship is rocking so badly, I'm so dizzy... sir, could I come in and sit for a while? Even just for a minute, please."

As she spoke, she didn't care whether Shen Jinghong agreed or not, and her soft body was about to fall into his arms.

Most men would probably have gone along with it, playing the hero and taking advantage of the situation.

But who is Shen Jinghong?

He is a "top thief" who just emptied the Federal Reserve, a cold-blooded STEM guy with the future of the country in his heart.

Just as Ruth was about to touch him, Shen Jinghong jumped back a large step as if he had been electrocuted, retreating directly to the innermost part of the room.

"Thump!"

Losing her support, Ruth crashed heavily onto the hard wooden floor with a dull thud.

"Ouch!"

Ruth was in so much pain that tears almost welled up in her eyes. Her delicate face twisted for a moment, but she quickly put on a pitiful expression and looked up at Shen Jinghong with a resentful look.

"Sir...are you just going to watch a lady fall?"

"No, no, no, Miss, you've misunderstood."

Shen Jinghong stood close to the wall, his face serious, and stretched out a hand, making a "stop" gesture. "Based on my professional judgment, this is not just simple seasickness."

Ruth was stunned: "What?"

"Your face was flushed and you were breathing rapidly just now. Now you suddenly feel weak in your limbs and even have slightly dilated pupils."

Shen Jinghong adjusted his glasses and began reciting rapidly, "This is very likely an acute attack of Meniere's disease, a syndrome caused by inner ear vestibular dysfunction. In this condition, if you move around carelessly or come into contact with the opposite sex, it can cause an adrenaline spike, exacerbating vasodilation and potentially even triggering a stroke!"

Ruth's mouth dropped open, her alluring expression frozen on her face, making her look particularly comical.

"Wh...what syndrome?"

"Autonomic nervous system disorder"

Shen Jinghong said seriously, "This kind of disease is very troublesome, especially since you've sprayed such a strong musky perfume. This will seriously stimulate your central nervous system. Miss, for your safety, I suggest you lie down on the ground immediately, take deep breaths, and do fifty push-ups to promote blood circulation."

God the hell do push-ups!

Ruth almost swore. She'd carried out so many missions, encountered lecherous, greedy, cowardly, and even perverted people, but this was the first time she'd ever been asked to do push-ups on the ground!

Is this bookworm genuinely stupid or just pretending?

She gritted her teeth and decided to stop beating around the bush.

She struggled to her feet, deliberately letting the hem of her robe slip down to reveal her long, fair legs, and approached Shen Jinghong step by step.

"Sir, I don't do push-ups..."

Her voice became low and husky, with a hint of alluring charm, "I just feel cold... really cold. I want to borrow your bed to warm up, or... borrow your embrace to warm up."

The atmosphere in the small room suddenly heated up.

Ruth's azure eyes were fixed on Shen Jinghong, as if trying to see through his soul through his glasses. She slowly reached out, her slender fingers attempting to unbutton Shen Jinghong's shirt.

"Don't be nervous, darling. No one will bother us tonight... Just tell me what treasures are in your suitcase, and I can give you a taste of heaven."

The true intentions have finally been revealed.

Shen Jinghong's back was already pressed against the cold wall, with nowhere left to retreat.

A cold glint flashed in the depths of his eyes as he watched the hand about to touch his chest.

"System, scan."

[Beep! Scanning for target organism...]

[Scan complete.]

[Target: Human female (professionally trained in combat).]

[Hazardous materials detection: A Colt .25 caliber miniature pistol was concealed in the strap of his left inner thigh; a cyanide capsule was concealed in his lower back.]

Threat Level: Medium.

It really is a poisonous rose with thorns.

With a gun strapped to his thigh and poison hidden in his waist, this guy wasn't there to offer comfort; he was clearly there to send someone to their death.

Shen Jinghong sneered inwardly, but suddenly put on a terrified expression, covering her mouth and nose as if she had seen some kind of monstrous flood.

"Don't come any closer! Please don't come any closer!"

He shouted, his voice sharp and distorted.

Ruth was startled by his shout, her hand freezing in mid-air: "What's wrong?"

"Allergic reaction! I'm allergic to foreign women... no, I'm allergic to these highly volatile ester compounds!"

While shouting, Shen Jinghong exaggeratedly dry heaved, "Your smell is too strong! My respiratory tract is spasming! My alveoli are protesting! I'm going to go into shock if I don't get out soon!"

"you……"

Ruth's face instantly turned as black as the bottom of a pot.

She's a top-tier, professionally trained agent; her beauty is her sharpest weapon. But now, this damned nerd is saying she smells awful? And that he's going to faint?

This is a double humiliation for her as a woman and as a secret agent!

"Sir, are you a man?"

Ruth finally couldn't keep up the act any longer. She straightened up, her eyes sharpening. "You won't even take what I offer yourself?"

"I am a man, but more importantly, I am a scientist!"

Shen Jinghong spoke righteously, grabbing a copy of "Introduction to Fluid Mechanics" from the table and holding it to his chest as if performing an exorcism with a crucifix. "Scientific research shows that in this enclosed space, the concentration of your cheap perfume has exceeded a lethal dose! For the sake of the future of human science, please leave my room immediately, right now, and gracefully!"

As he spoke, he suddenly flung open the door, pointed to the hallway outside, and made a "get out" gesture.

"Get out! Or I'll call the ship's doctor! I'm going to tell everyone on board that there's a crazy woman with autonomic nervous system disorder trying to murder a future Nobel Prize winner!"

Ruth was so angry that she trembled all over, her chest heaving violently.

She stared intently at Shen Jinghong, trying to find a flaw in his face. But the man's current demeanor, aside from his pedantic air and cowardly manner that made one want to slap him, revealed absolutely no depth.

Could the intelligence be wrong? Is he just a complete bookworm?

Several people were already peeking into the corridor.

Ruth knew that tonight's mission was completely ruined. If she continued to linger, it would attract the ship's security, and her identity would be exposed.

"Good! Very good!"

She gritted her teeth, straightened her robe, and glared coldly at Shen Jinghong. "Dr. Shen, is that it? I hope your science can protect you for the rest of your life."

After saying that, she stomped her foot hard, turned around, and walked out of the room.

The sound of those high heels on the floor was so heavy it seemed like they were going to break through the deck.

"Take care! Remember to do some push-ups!"

Shen Jinghong delivered the final blow from behind.

"Bang!"

The door was slammed shut and locked.

One second Shen Jinghong looked terrified and pedantic, the next he instantly regained his composure, as if his expression had changed. He leaned against the door, listening to the footsteps fading away outside, the playfulness in his eyes vanishing without a trace, replaced by a deep chill.

"Colt 25... It seems there are more than just flies on this ship, there are also poisonous snakes."

He glanced at the spot where Ruth had just stood, waved his hand dismissively, and tried to dispel the lingering scent of perfume.

"It's really flavorful, it almost got marinated to perfection."

Shen Jinghong walked to the bedside, preparing to sit down and organize her thoughts. The previous probing was just an appetizer; now that the CIA had taken action, the rest of the journey would likely not be peaceful.

Just then.

A dull, loud thud suddenly came from next door.

"Thump!"

That was the sound of a heavy object hitting the floor, followed by a series of chaotic footsteps and suppressed gasps. Although the sounds were not loud, they were exceptionally clear in the quiet of the night, just a wall away.

The next room is 302.

Lin Qinghan's room.

Shen Jinghong's body, which had just relaxed, tensed up instantly, like a cheetah that had smelled blood.

Something's happened.