American Strategic Deception Bureau

　Fortunately, the apartment building was quite empty during the day. Most of the tenants were at work or school, and the few who were at home had no interest in wandering around the dirty, dilapidated corridors. Tom easily returned to his room without attracting anyone's attention.

　Then, Tom saw the alien jellyfish Flandre, curled up on his messy little bed. Its umbrella-shaped body had turned agate color at some point and was vibrating at a high frequency. Its twelve tentacles flashed alternately with light gold, light blue and pink.

　"Is this...about to give birth?" Tom asked Furu who was lying on the bed as he turned around and locked the door.

　"It feels a little off... This is my first time giving birth, so I don't have much experience... Is the animal in your hand for me to eat?"

　The jellyfish spoke to Tom through the telepathic link, her words sounding a little weak. "Hurry and bring it here!"

　"Just eat it raw? Don't you want me to grill it? I have a mini grill and some charcoal left over from the last picnic." Tom asked.

　"It's too late! I'm so hungry! My child needs nutrition!"

　Tom curled his lips and put the cage containing the guinea pigs on the bed. Flandre didn't hesitate and directly extended her tentacles into the cage. Then she heard a series of shrill screams from the guinea pigs in the cage, and they were soon sucked into mummies by the psychic jellyfish.

　When Tom took out the guinea pig carcasses and threw them into the trash can, the rats were almost left with only bones and skin.

　Well, considering that guinea pigs were originally domesticated by the Inca Empire as food, it is not surprising that they suffered this fate.

　After a hearty meal of guinea pig, the alien jellyfish Flandre swelled even larger. Then, it collapsed on the cot, motionless and ignoring Tom. Only the constantly changing colors of its body proved that this psychic jellyfish was still alive.

　Seeing this, Tom pulled over a folding chair and sat down with his back to the window, not daring to get too close to the psychic jellyfish that was about to give birth.

　——Although he didn't know how alien creatures gave birth, he had seen his own female cat "Jasmine" give birth to kittens in his hometown in the past.

　On the eve of her birth, the usually docile cat, Jasmine, who allowed herself to be petted and stroked, became aggressive and violent, knocking over the cat food bowl and litter box, scratching her owner's hand, and even tearing up Tom's homework book.

　It was not until the four cute little kittens lay down beside "Jasmine" and curled up into a ball with their eyes closed that Tom dared to reach out and touch them again.

　Now, it is the turn of this strange alien jellyfish to come to his home to breed offspring. Tom dare not get too close at the critical moment, for fear that the other party will lose control during the delivery process and suck him dry like those guinea pigs just now!

　In short, it was clear that the alien jellyfish would be reproducing for some time, and Tom's rented apartment had neither a television nor a radio, so there was nothing to entertain himself with. He could only dig out a few old, faded magazines and newspapers, and after a quick glance, his eyelids began to droop. The "stimulant" he had taken earlier was gradually wearing off, and the fatigue of not sleeping all night and running around with the alien jellyfish began to wash over him.

　Seeing the words on the magazine begin to spin in his vision, Tom simply threw the magazine away, closed his eyes and thought quietly.

　It’s so tiring, but also so fulfilling!

　During the time he was wandering in Sydney, apart from the tiring and boring life, he was always looking forward to some kind of change, some kind of change that could bring a touch of colorful waves to his dull and boring life, which was bound by all kinds of trivial matters and rules and was poor and difficult to afford.

　After all, life in the workplace is always so boring. Bored colleagues repeat almost the same garbage every day, which makes Tom want to punch them: not because he is insulted, but because these empty-headed guys speak in such a dull and boring way that it is maddening.

　Now, the change has finally arrived. Although he doesn't know what the future will be like, at least at this moment, Tom feels very happy...

　As he thought about this, he slowly recalled the exciting experience of last night, until his mind gradually became dull and he gradually fell asleep.

　After an unknown amount of time, Tom, who was sleeping soundly, suddenly started and woke up again.

　He rubbed his sleepy eyes, glanced out the window, and found that it was dark again!

　Ah, how long have I slept? Could I have slept for ten hours straight?

　Wait, although I have already taken leave from my job as a loader and unloader at the dock, my other job as a waiter in a restaurant...this also counts as absenteeism!

　The restaurant owner must have been furious and even decided to fire him. This stingy Irishman has always had a bad temper.

　Tom thought so, but for some reason, he did not feel much remorse or regret in his heart, but was very calm instead.

　Perhaps, in his subconscious, after experiencing the "third kind of contact" adventure last night, he automatically became a reserve superhero. He should have bid farewell to his ordinary working life and embarked on an exciting adventure, right?

　So, if you lose your job, then just lose your job!

　Anyway, there's nothing good about being a waiter in a restaurant. It's tiring and the pay is low. It's no longer worthy of who I am now...

　Tom thought so, looked back at the bed, and was immediately stunned by the shocking scene before him:

　Under the moonlight outside the window and the crystal light emanating from Flandre's body, six newborn Furu were born one after another from the star-shaped crack in the mother's abdomen. On each umbrella cap, which was less than the size of a palm, there were floating unformed psychic runes, like glass crafts penetrated by moonlight.

　Bathed in the Sydney moonlight, the Furu family is so beautiful and charming, with an extraordinary charisma that makes Tom fascinated.

　But then, a sudden change occurred.

　All the magazines, newspapers, pencils, cups, suitcases, tables, chairs and furniture floated up into the air. Tom's dirty underwear and dirty socks that he hadn't washed yesterday fluttered around in the air like bats and butterflies.

　Even the unfinished Coke in the cup solidified into black pearls, slowly rising out of the cup and finally "pa" sticking to the window glass.

　The coins Tom had placed in the tin box suddenly flew up like a flock of startled birds, creating miniature craters on the roof with a thud! Then they fell back down with a ping-pong sound, hitting the floor, tabletop, and bed, making a series of unusual noises, some crisp, some dull.

　And the cactus that Tom placed on the windowsill grew a lot faster somehow, and a rose bud sprouted at the top!

　Those who later read Harry Potter might associate it with the "magic runaway" of young wizards in their youth—but in reality, uncontrolled psychic energy can produce a similar abnormal state. And psychic creatures, when newly born, often cannot control their extraordinary powers.

　Objects floating in the air, deformation and distortion, activation and hallucinations can all happen automatically. The main feature is the indescribable!

　Then, although the above situation happening in the rental house was already a spectacle, it seemed full of magic and fairy tale colors.

　However, compared with the changes that occur to these lifeless dead objects in the psychic energy, the living are more seriously affected by the psychic energy explosion.

　Tom, who was closest to the center of the psychic storm, didn't have time to react at all. He fainted due to mental overload.

　His neighbors, all within a hundred meters of Tom, almost simultaneously clutched their temples, expressions of pain on their faces. Ripples of psychic energy rapidly spread across the floor and walls, seeping through the cracks in the doors and walls. The entire apartment had become an indescribable psychedelic place. Every resident's memory from birth to adulthood, along with all sorts of bizarre dream images, washed over their frontal lobes like a waterfall!

　The old homeless man who was huddled in a cardboard box downstairs, shivering with hunger, suddenly felt no longer cold, hungry or sick. Through his hazy eyes, he saw his dead wife and children who had severed ties with him, smiling and reappearing in front of him, waving to him... The old homeless man, who had already been heartbroken, couldn't help but burst into tears. He struggled to get up, hugged the electric pole next to him with both hands, and a chuckle came from his throat - in his distorted vision, the electric pole was turning into the appearance of his wife when she was alive, and the light curtain behind it reflected broken images like church stained windows.

　But the next moment, the old homeless man's tears turned to screams. An out-of-control motorcycle crashed into a telephone pole, sending him flying back into a pile of cardboard boxes in the corner. The motorcyclist, despite a bloody head, still wore a silly, happy smile.

　The Filipino girl who was taking a bath next to Tom screamed hysterically in the bathtub. She saw that she was back in the dirty and smelly smuggling boat, being raped by a dozen sailors in turn. Next to her was her elder sister who had been tortured to death, her hideous corpse with her eyes open!

　At the same time, gray-brown bubbles began to rise from the surface of her bath water, and each bubble burst with a tiny crying sound.

　The college girl upstairs from Tom's apartment, complaining to her live-in boyfriend about the poor food, got stuck in her throat. She saw a spoon hover three inches above her pea soup, and then she saw six wet peas, breaking free from gravity, forming a slowly rotating ring of stars around her curly hair. The salt and pepper shakers waltzed over the butter dish, their metal lids clacking with a melodious sound, and the tablecloth undulated like waves.

　Then, in her sight, all the plates, cutlery, bread and dishes turned into huge black rats, jumping from the table to the ground and scurrying around her legs and feet. The big cockroach that she screamed and kicked away turned out to be a bottle of authentic French wine that she treasured.

　Her boyfriend, who was watching TV, was laughing like a child on the sofa because he heard cheerful country music and saw the gingerbread man in the candy box jumping up and kicking the chocolate ball on the coffee table, like he was playing a proper football game.

　The slaughterhouse worker sleeping soundly downstairs from Tom's apartment was startled awake, only able to scream out halfway before his terrified howl died in his throat. His cloudy eyes reflected the dancing masses of red flesh—each one sprouting lips and limbs in mid-air, humming the same ballads his mother often sang, brandishing axes, swords, and spears fashioned from ground bones, as they advanced menacingly toward him, seemingly seeking revenge for their own murder.

　The slaughterhouse worker was so frightened that he rolled his eyes, foamed at the mouth, fell back onto the bed, and fell asleep again.

　His daughter, who was still in elementary school, was now huddled under a tattered desk, watching in horror as the gilded cover of "Hans Christian Andersen's Fairy Tales" slapped against the glass of the bookcase, while the ink bottle somersaulted gracefully in front of her, dancing in a circle with the pens, pencils and rulers.

　At the door of the apartment, the apartment manager who was dozing on the table suddenly remembered his childhood memories that he had forgotten for many years. The fire that burned down his home and killed his father, and the difficult situation of his family after the fire... He was suddenly awakened from this nightmare.

　But after waking up, the administrator saw the desk lamp tap dancing, flickering and extinguishing, and the sky above his head was

　The ceiling was emitting an indigo glow, forming a complex magical pattern. He paused for a moment, then glanced at the empty bottle beside him. He muttered a few words before falling back onto the table to sleep.

　Just like that, a litter of Furu pups was born, instantly engulfing the entire apartment building, along with several nearby houses, in a whirlwind of uncontrolled psychic energy. The strange, drug-like effect transported some lucky souls into a fairytale of boundless bliss, while others, unlucky, found themselves in a shrill horror movie... For a moment, the myriad aspects of life were condensed into this tiny space, leaving one disoriented and overwhelmed.

　From the outside, it seemed like the people in the building were crying, laughing, and making all sorts of strange noises for some unknown reason. It was like a madhouse.

　Fortunately, Tom's apartment building didn't face the street directly. Instead, it was nestled among cheap townhouses, old buildings, and other apartments, surrounded by narrow alleys. It was far from a road, and there weren't many pedestrians, motorcycles, or bicycles passing by at night.

　Otherwise, the area downstairs of the apartment building would have become a scene of a series of car accidents, or even a raging fire filled with smoke and dust!

　It was not until then that Furu's mother, Flandre, who had exhausted all her strength to give birth, finally regained consciousness. While stroking her children with her tentacles, she noticed the abnormality of her psychic power being out of control. The irises of her eyes suddenly shrank, emitting a shining lapis lazuli color.

　Regardless of its weak postpartum condition, it waved all its tentacles wildly, drawing shining symbols at the fastest speed.

　A moment later, the psychic fog that enveloped the entire apartment building began to vibrate with a frequency like a lullaby, gently drifting over the edge of everyone's dreams, causing those who were either howling in fear or giggling with happiness before to fall into the deepest sleep.

　Well, it’s good as long as you sleep soundly. As long as you sleep soundly, you shouldn’t make any more noises, and you won’t hurt others or yourself.

　——Just like when dealing with a manic drug addict, the best way is to knock him out with a stick to prevent him from hurting others or himself.

　Anyway, as long as everyone goes to bed, what happened tonight will become an illusion and collective hysteria, and it won't easily cause any big trouble.

　Sensing that almost everyone nearby had fallen asleep, Flandre retracted her tentacles with satisfaction, and her body surface turned a pleasant pink again.

　Then, it hesitated for a moment, took off into the air, and approached Tom, who had just fallen from the chair and was lying on the ground with his limbs spread out. It poked his temple with the siphon, and used its psychic power to make Tom's eyelids move, and he gradually woke up.

　"Oh! What just happened? My head hurts! Cough, cough, cough!"

　Tom struggled to sit up from the floor, rubbed his head with his hands, and muttered to himself. He felt as if his head was pricked by needles, and his muscles were also extremely sore. His thoughts and memories seemed to be crushed by a huge truck over and over again, completely turning into debris.

　He first glanced at his own doghouse, which had somehow become even more messy, with even the tables, chairs, and thermos toppled over. Then he looked up at a large alien jellyfish and six smaller ones (furula pups) floating before him. He was completely bewildered, his mind full of questions...

　After several minutes, the memories of the recent past gradually surfaced in his mind, allowing Tom to slowly resume work after the shutdown state.

　He stared wide-eyed as he looked at the six timid-looking Furu cubs. Then, with an effortless smile, he said to Flandre, "Are these your newborns? They all look adorable! Congratulations on becoming a mother, Flandre."

　"Thank you. These children are my pride too! However, now doesn't seem to be the time to talk about this."

　Flandre blew out a stream of pink gas, and soared to the level of Tom's eyes. Waving its tentacles like a dance, it said to Tom, "Now, let's set off quickly to stop and destroy the evil plan of those villains yesterday! For the sake of thousands of people!"

　A sinister plan by a local Sydney gang? Hmm, that seems to be the case. An alien jellyfish stumbled upon this while foraging.

　That...what kind of evil plan did the local Sydney gang come up with?

　Tom stood up and stretched his sore legs and feet, frowning and thinking for a moment, then suddenly his face changed drastically.

　He sucked in a breath of the sour stench from the filthy rental house, turned his head with slightly chattering teeth, and asked the alien jellyfish cautiously, "Flando, are you talking about... that, the smuggling of atomic bombs?"

　"Yes, that's right! That's the most powerful weapon in your world!"

　"Well, Flando, shouldn't we call the police for something as serious as this?" Tom said timidly.

　"It's too late! They agreed that the transaction would take place tonight, at a remote port in this city!"

　Flando released another stream of pink gas from behind her, allowing her to hover above Tom's head, looking down into his eyes. "Such a terrifying thing cannot fall into the hands of a group of evil people! Righteous adventurers! Follow me and defeat evil!"

　You wouldn't want to see the city you live in reduced to rubble by an atomic bomb, right?"

　What? Fighting evil? Isn't that the job of an elite adventurer? How can I, a rookie who knows nothing, go and fight evil?

　Cut it off!

　Moreover, can such a big thing as the smuggling of atomic bombs be stopped by just one person and an alien jellyfish?

　I'm not Superman, how can I do such a thing?

　Tom complained in his heart, but Flandre, who was very interested in the night tour, ignored him and just thought he had agreed.

　So, next, without waiting for Tom to resist or quibble, Flandre wrapped Tom's arm with her tentacles, and took the six little jellyfish with her, and floated out of Tom's rental apartment, caught in the drizzle, and slowly floated into the deeper darkness of the night.

　Author's words: PS: Five days after the earthquake, the Myanmar military junta finally issued a ceasefire order, having never stopped the bombing.

　You've already lost so badly, and you keep dropping bombs. What's the point other than making the people hate you even more?

　Destroy the transportation lines? Block the enemy's advance? After the earthquake, you don't even need to destroy them, the roads and bridges are already broken.

　Chapter 649: The Vietnamese are begging with atomic bombs!

　The wind was cold and the night was dark. The waves of Sydney Bay were rolling in the wind, hitting the rusty side of the yacht.

　The leaden low-pressure clouds swallowed up the last ray of moonlight. The shell-like dome of the Sydney Opera House in the distance was blurred into a few blurry gray shadows in the drizzle.

　Victor, with his hair dyed gray and wearing an old coat, huddled at the stern, trembling, and staring blankly at the yacht cutting through the dark water. The muffled sound of the old engine sounded like the suppressed breathing of a wild beast, mixed with the sound of the waves at night, making him feel upset and anxious.

　The salty sea breeze rushed into his throat, reminding him of the body that sank on Manly Beach three years ago - it was also such a night, such waves.

　As a seasoned broker, or "middleman," with nearly thirty years of experience in both the underworld and the criminal underworld, Victor had brokered countless connections in Sydney's underworld, facilitating countless illegal transactions. The merchandise Victor was involved in during this time was incredibly diverse—from drugs to firearms, kidnapped women to blood-stained diamonds, and even precision instrument parts whose export was expressly prohibited by the Paris Coordinating Committee.

　He had sold stolen goods for American logistics officers who stole and sold military supplies, supplied arms and medicines to anti-American guerrillas in Indonesia, boarded American and British warships, and purchased a variety of smuggled goods carried by sailors. He also acted as an intermediary between farmers in the Australian outback who could not recruit workers and human traffickers who sold illegal immigrants, buying and selling illegal immigrants, or throwing female illegal immigrants full of dreams into underground brothels.

　Victor has witnessed countless intrigues and bloody battles in the past thirty years, and has escaped from life-or-death situations several times. He has been robbed by his own cheaters, and he has also turned against and killed business partners, or set traps to sink competitors into the sea.

　Therefore, he thought that he should be experienced enough and that he could remain calm no matter what situation he encountered.

　But now, Victor couldn't help feeling timid from the depths of his bones, and his fingertips stroked the silver cross in the inner pocket of his coat.

　God bless me, please! Let me complete this business deal safely! After this, I will definitely change my ways!

　——Although he prayed silently in his heart, Victor found it funny after thinking about it: How could he expect God to bless a person like him who had at least dozens of lives under his control and could be considered an unforgivable criminal from any perspective?

　Sigh, it's probably just too much psychological pressure, plus my luck hasn't been very good lately...

　Victor sighed and looked up at his two trusted thugs beside him - the burly Wright brothers, and his expression became even more gloomy.

　Although these two big guys are good at fighting and very loyal, their brains are not very good and they cannot handle some complicated human relationships.

　What's more... Victor looked back at the ferocious faces of the Hispanic men on the yacht and couldn't help but shudder.

　It was obvious that if a sudden fallout occurred at sea, he and his brothers would have no chance of surviving this group of hardcore ruthless men.

　After this transaction is completed, I won’t be silenced by these ruthless Latin American guys, right?

　Alas, Victor had actually backed out before and didn't want to do it himself, but tried to let his assistant Kenneth do it for him.

　However, Kenneth had gone to assist his old friend, the Black Bear Gang leader, in negotiating with the Penguin Gang leader last night, and had caused a major disturbance. The two gangs had broken off negotiations over interests and had come to blows. It wasn't a big deal, but even if the gangs in the city didn't have much hatred, they would often engage in group brawls to showcase their strength and give new recruits some training in low-intensity combat.

　They are the white trash of the poor people in Ansa. Even ordinary workers, after getting drunk in the pub, would start a fist fight from time to time!

　In low-intensity fights like these, both sides tacitly avoid using firearms, using only sticks and fists to decide the outcome. Important figures from both gangs don't personally participate in the fights, but simply stand back, overseeing the fights and identifying the truly capable fighters.

　But the gang fight last night was really a bit weird. Dozens of people from the two gangs stopped fighting for no apparent reason. Not only did they all become idiots, sitting back to back in the mud, staring blankly and motionless, even scaring the patrolmen who came to investigate.

　Ask them afterwards