I started by watching videos, and I chose 10,000 combat power.

As Luo Fei flew toward the Japanese chicken, he suddenly remembered that he was still wearing his military uniform.

As he flew, he took off his uniform, storing it in his ring and then taking out a tracksuit to change into.

He then said to Xiao Wan, "Xiao Wan, search all Chinese cultural relics and antiques within Japan. Museum items, private collections—mark them all if they originated from China. Plan a route to collect them in the shortest possible time."

Xiao Wan said, "Received. Searching the database—Alright. There are approximately three million artifacts from the Dragon Kingdom within Japan. The route has been planned."

Luo Fei sped up.

Not long after.

In the distance, the coastline appears; it's Honshu Island, home to Japan.

Green hills, gray city, densely packed buildings, stretch out along the seaside.

He lowered his altitude, skimming below the clouds, looking down at the land from a height of several hundred meters.

Visitors are queuing in front of a museum.

The morning sun was lovely, shining warmly on the museum's gray stone walls, making one want to doze off.

Several students in school uniforms sat on the steps, holding notebooks and copying something.

An elderly white man, carrying a backpack and wearing a sun hat, was studying a map on the wall.

Then someone fell from the sky.

Like a stone falling from the sky, it landed in the center of the square in front of the museum.

The sound wasn't loud, but everyone felt it—the ground beneath their feet shook.

Several middle school students looked up, then dropped their pens and opened their mouths.

The old white man took off his sun hat, squinted at it for a few seconds, then the hat fell off, and he didn't pick it up.

The security guard rushed out of the guard booth, holding a walkie-talkie, his mouth open, but he never uttered the words "Call the police" because he recognized the person.

Everyone on the planet Earth knows him now.

Just now, this person was flying in the sky during a live stream, carrying four of their mushroom bombs without batting an eye.

Call the police? Would the police dare arrest him?

Luo Fei didn't look at anyone and walked straight into the museum.

The glass door opened automatically.

The receptionist stood up, mouth agape, hands on the table, frozen in place.

Luo Fei entered the first exhibition hall.

It's full of artifacts from the Dragon Kingdom.

Bronze ware, porcelain, calligraphy and paintings, and Buddha statues are displayed one by one in glass cases. The lights shine on them, and each piece is wiped very clean, so clean that it doesn't look like something that is hundreds or even thousands of years old.

He walked up to the first display case, which was made of glass and locked.

He didn't look for the key, didn't break the glass, and didn't use any violent means.

He simply placed his hand on the display case, and with a thought, both the display case and the bronze cauldron disappeared simultaneously, stored in his ring.

He walked to the second display case. There was a blue and white porcelain vase from the Ming Dynasty, during the Yongle period; there are only a handful left in the world.

The third display case. A painting or calligraphy. The fourth. A Buddha statue. The fifth, the sixth...

He moved quickly, and an artifact disappeared with each display case he passed.

The staff finally realized what was happening.

A middle-aged man in uniform ran out of the side door, blocking Luo Fei's path. He was panting heavily, his face flushed, and shouted in Japanese, "You can't do this! This is museum property!"

Luo Fei looked at him without speaking, but his eyes said one thing: "Don't you know how this thing ended up here? Do I need to tell you?"

The middle-aged man opened his mouth slightly, then closed it again.

His face turned even redder, but this time not from anger, but from embarrassment.

He knew where these things came from.

It wasn't bought, it wasn't exchanged; it was stolen from China by guns, bayonets, and force.

He knew it in his heart, and everyone in Japan who had studied this history knew it too.

But he stepped back, not because he understood the reasoning, but because he didn't dare to stop him.

A man who just carried four mushroom bombs, a museum security guard earning a meager monthly salary, what could he possibly use to stop them? What was the point of risking his life?

Luo Fei continued collecting.

At first, I would check what kind of artifacts they were, but eventually I just sped up and put everything I saw into the ring. One exhibition hall after another, floor after floor. The number of artifacts in the ring increased from dozens to hundreds, and from hundreds to thousands.

Xiao Wan was updating the count in his ear in real time, like a pedometer, but recording the number of cultural relics.

The news spread even faster than Luo Feifei.

Someone filmed the incident and posted it online with the title "That person from China is robbing artifacts from the Japanese museum."

The video garnered over ten million views in just a few minutes.

In the comments section, Japanese netizens were cursing, calling it "robbery".

Chinese netizens were outraged, and the comment section turned into a battlefield.

"Robbery? What did you call it when you stole these things from China back then?"

"Returning cultural relics is not stealing; it's taking back what's rightfully yours."

"You call this 'theft'? What did you call it back then?"

"Three million items, and we've only gotten a few back? Did they even charge interest?"

"You still have the nerve to call the police? Call the police saying someone stole things you took from someone else's house?"

"We suggest that the Japanese government publish its collection catalog so that we can check each item one by one."

There were also some voices, not many, but present: "Under international law, cultural relics looted during wartime should be returned to their country of origin. This principle is recognized by all countries. China is simply implementing this principle in its own way."

Of course, this voice was quickly drowned out by criticism, and neither side was pleased.

The higher-ups in Japan were of course aware of it as well.

Inside the office building, several people sat in a conference room, with the museum's surveillance footage playing on the screen in front of them—Luo Fei calmly collected the artifacts one by one, as if he were taking things from his own warehouse.

Someone asked, "Where are the Self-Defense Forces? Tell them to go and stop them!"

No one answered.

Because everyone knows the answer: even a nuclear bomb couldn't kill him. You expect ordinary members of the Self-Defense Forces to stop him? With what? Rifles? Batons? Or verbal abuse?

Another person said, "We can't stop him, but we can make a big fuss about it. Post it online and let the whole planet see. People from China are looting things in a Japanese museum. Public pressure might make him stop."

Someone has taken care of it.

Official and unofficial channels, in various languages, spread the video clip of Luo Fei taking away cultural relics from the museum across social media across the entire planet.

But the results were not quite what they expected.

Chinese netizens flooded the comments section with responses, with thousands of comments under each video, all remarkably similar in content.

"You should have a good idea of ​​how these cultural relics ended up in Japan. We're just returning them to their rightful owners; we're already being very lenient by not charging you interest."

Netizens from many neutral countries also joined the discussion, with some offering relatively objective opinions: "Legally speaking, cultural relics looted during wartime should indeed be returned to their country of origin. Although China's approach is somewhat crude, it is morally sound."

Some disagreed: "It is indeed illegal to take back cultural relics without permission, but the Chinese people have probably run out of patience when faced with the Japanese's refusal to return them or even admit it."

After much discussion, no one could convince anyone else, but one thing was agreed upon—this person was unstoppable by the Japanese.

When Luo Fei came out of the museum, there were several thousand more cultural relics in his ring.

He didn't rest; this was just the starting point of Xiao Wan's planned route.

When he rose from the square in front of the museum, those middle school students were still standing there, heads tilted back, mouths agape.

The old white man's sun hat was still on the ground; he hadn't picked it up. The security guard stood at the entrance of the guard booth, his walkie-talkie held to his ear, but he didn't speak.

Luo Fei disappeared into the sky.

When we arrived at the next museum, it had already been cleared out.

It wasn't the police who cleared it; it was the staff who cleared it themselves—all the tourists were asked to leave, and the gate was closed, not to stop him, but to prevent the tourists from seeing him.

They feared panic, stampedes, and injuries in the chaos.

Luo Fei did not stay inside just because the door was closed.

He walked in through the main entrance, and when the glass door opened, it was very quiet and made no sound.

The lobby was deserted; there was no one at the front desk, no one at the ticket window, and even the security guards were nowhere to be seen.

In the vast museum, only the artifacts awaited him.

He didn't stand on ceremony. He collected them one by one, clearing out each exhibition hall, from the first floor to the third, from the east hall to the west hall. Every single item was from China, every single item carried the blood of China, and every single item had waited far too long on foreign soil.

He placed his hand on the display case, and with a thought, the artifact disappeared and entered the ring.

Luo Fei did not stop; he continued to collect Chinese cultural relics from museums, private collections, and his own home.

During that time, he also took the opportunity to fly to a place he had long wanted to visit—Mount Fuji.

The mountaintop was covered in snow, which shone with a faint golden hue in the sunlight, like a huge, dyed conical hat.

The mountain is dark gray with several folds, traces of volcanic lava flows.

From the top of the mountain down, the colors gradually change, layer by layer, like a giant tiered cake.

Luo Fei hovered about two hundred meters above the crater, looking down at the huge, sunken crater.

The crater walls were covered with snow, and the bottom was filled with gray-black volcanic debris. No magma could be seen, but wisps of white steam could be seen rising from the cracks.

"Xiao Wan, is there any weapon or equipment on the spaceship that could trigger this volcano to erupt?"

Xiao Wan said, "Yes, Captain. The Wan Nian Jun is equipped with an earthquake generator, originally used for mining and geological exploration. It can induce crustal vibrations through energy waves of a specific frequency. For an active volcano like Mount Fuji, only a medium-intensity energy pulse is needed to break its internal pressure balance and trigger an eruption. Of course, the scale of the eruption can be controlled by the amount of energy output. How big do you want it to be?"

Luo Fei thought for a moment. "Not too big, not too small. Just let it spray, but don't let it affect the Dragon Kingdom. The main thing is to keep the Japanese busy so they won't have time to meddle in other people's business."

Xiao Wan said, "Received. I have successfully moved the spaceship stealthily over Mount Fuji. The energy pulse has been locked onto the volcano's center. You may give the order at any time."

Luo Fei waved his hand and said, "I'll start after I've collected all the artifacts."

He didn't want the volcanic eruption to interrupt his shopping spree; he needed to finish his business first.

He turned and flew to the next museum.

The higher-ups in Japan have stopped discussing "how to stop him".

They are poring over international law, checking historical archives, and searching for evidence of "how these artifacts came to be"—not to prove the legality of their origin, but to prove that "they were not stolen, but bought, exchanged, or given away."

But after looking through them, they found that most of the artifacts had the same two words written on their entry records: "military supplies".

Some didn't even have records or names; they were just labeled "a box," "a bundle," or "a batch."

They closed the file and stopped looking at it, because the more they confronted them, the worse things would get.