Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

The night was as black as the bottom of a pot.

A quiet garrison of the Chinese People's Volunteer Army on the banks of the Yalu River.

The soldiers had just won a battle and were dozing in their bunkers, rifles in hand. Only a few sentries huddled in the wind, wrapped in their coats, vigilantly watching the dark sky.

"Buzzing—"

A deep engine sound abruptly broke the silence.

The sound wasn't loud; it didn't sound like a big thing, but rather like a few flies buzzing around overhead.

"Enemy aircraft!"

Sentry Li jerked the bolt back on his rifle and shouted into the bunker, "Air raid siren! Take cover!"

The camp erupted in chaos. The soldiers extinguished the newly lit campfire and darted into the artillery shelters like nimble leopards.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for the deafening explosion and the sky ablaze with flames.

But a minute passed.

Two minutes passed.

The expected bomb did not fall.

The American planes overhead flew extremely low, almost skimming the treetops. They didn't strafe or drop napalm bombs, which could cause large-scale explosions.

Just as it was flying over the camp, the fuselage opened, and a bunch of random things fell out with a clatter.

"Puff, puff, puff."

The things hit the snow with a dull thud, sounding like a few earthenware pots breaking or a pile of tattered paper packets being thrown down.

There was no fire, no smoke.

It didn't even create a crater.

"What's this American up to?"

The company commander poked half his head out of the bunker, looking completely bewildered. "It didn't explode? Could it be a surrender document? Or one of those leaflets urging surrender?"

"I'll go take a look!"

Xiao Li was bold; he crouched down, held his gun, and crept over.

By the faint light of the snow, he saw a pile of fragments scattered on the snow.

There were several broken ceramic jars and some tattered paper packages, which didn't seem to contain any explosives. Instead, they were scattered all over the ground with black powder and... straw.

"Company commander! It's a dud! No, it looks like junk!"

Xiao Li kicked the paper package next to him in frustration.

With that kick, the paper package fell apart.

"Buzz—"

A chilling sound of flapping wings suddenly rang out.

In this snowy night, where the temperature was minus thirty degrees Celsius and water froze instantly, the sound was even more eerie than the wailing of ghosts and wolves.

Xiao Li was stunned.

He lowered his head and, using the faint light of the flashlight, stared intently at the snow beneath his feet.

The pristine white snow was covered with countless black spots.

The spots were wriggling, jumping, and fluttering.

fly.

Thousands upon thousands of black-headed flies.

There were fleas, spiders, and even a few half-dead, squeaking mice crawling out of the broken jar.

"What...what is this?"

Xiao Li felt goosebumps rise all over his body, and his stomach churned. "Where did these flies come from in the middle of winter? Did the Americans send us pets?"

"Don't move!"

A sharp shout rang out behind him like a thunderclap.

Shen Jinghong strode over.

He was still wearing the military overcoat he had worn while interrogating Walker, his face horribly grim. He grabbed Little Li, who was about to swat a fly, and flung him several meters behind him.

"Who gave you permission to touch me?!"

Shen Jinghong's voice was frighteningly stern; it was a ferocity that Xiao Li had never seen before.

"Chief...Chief, these are just a few bugs..." Xiao Li protested, feeling wronged.

"insect?"

Shen Jinghong crouched down, not daring to get too close. He took out a pair of gas gloves from his pocket and put them on, then used tweezers to pick up a dead rat struggling on the snow.

The mouse had blood and foam at the corners of its mouth, and its belly was swollen and round.

He then looked at the fleas that still clung to life even in the bitter cold.

As someone who traveled back from the future, he knew all too well what these things were.

That damn "Plan B".

That was the evil legacy left by Japan's Unit 731 during World War II, which was completely taken over by the Americans and carried forward at Fort Detrick.

"This is not a bug."

Shen Jinghong stood up, threw the tweezers into the fire with a chilling glint in her eyes:

"This is a plague."

"It's plague, it's cholera, it's typhoid fever."

He turned around, looked at the bewildered soldiers around him, and said in a low, cold voice:

"The Americans can't beat us, so they start resorting to dirty tricks."

"They want to use this invisible and intangible bacteria to turn our hundreds of thousands of soldiers into a pile of rotten flesh!"

"...bacterial warfare?!"

The company commander's face turned pale instantly, and his voice trembled.

In this era, for soldiers with little education, cannons and tanks were not scary.

But the plague is a fear etched into one's very bones.

That would be a disaster that would wipe out the entire family!

"Chief, what... what do we do? Just now, Xiao Li..."

"Don't panic."

Shen Jinghong took a deep breath, and the gloomy expression on her face suddenly disappeared.

Instead, there was an extreme calmness, even with a hint of contemptuous sneer after seeing through the opponent's hand.

"That old MacArthur, that's all he's good for."

"He thinks scattering some bugs will throw us into disarray? Dream on!"

Shen Jinghong suddenly waved his hand and gave the order:

"Pass on my order! Seal off this area immediately!"

"Within a one-kilometer radius, entry is permitted, but exit is not! Everyone must wear a gas mask; those without masks should cover their mouth and nose with a damp towel! Direct contact with these filthy substances is strictly prohibited!"

"Get the flamethrower over here! Aim it at these cans and paper packets, and burn them! Burn them to ashes!"

"yes!"

Although the soldiers were afraid, they immediately became more efficient with their leader's support.

Soon, several fire dragons rolled on the snow, engulfing the filthy evidence in flames.

Shen Jinghong stood in front of the firelight, watching the crackling flames.

He pulled out a specially made satellite phone from his pocket—a cutting-edge technology recently developed by the China Telecom Center, with a signal directly connecting to China.

He dialed a number.

"Beep—beep—"

The call was connected.

A clear, familiar voice came from the other end, carrying a hint of sleepiness:

"Feed? Who?"

It is Lin Qinghan.

She is in Beijing, working overtime through the night in the biological laboratory of the Shenzhou Bureau.

Upon hearing this voice, Shen Jinghong's tense nerves relaxed slightly.

"daughter in law."

He spoke into the phone in a tone that only the two of them could understand, tinged with a hint of teasing:

"Wake up, we've got work to do."

"The US is getting desperate and has sent us a batch of special 'experimental samples.' Flies, fleas, and rats—quite a variety."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

Immediately afterwards, Lin Qinghan's voice became clear and sharp, and one could feel the chill through the receiver:

"germ warfare?"

"right."

Looking at the towering flames, Shen Jinghong's lips curled into a cruel smile:

"Since they want to play with living things, let's play along and have some fun with them."

"Send me that 'super first-aid kit' you prepared a long time ago. It's our 'protective charm' for the soldiers on the front lines."

"in addition……"

He paused, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes:

"Bring along that 'counterattack package' that we've been saving for so long."

"It is impolite not to reciprocate."

"The US has given us such a big gift. If we don't reciprocate in kind, wouldn't it make us Chinese seem like we don't know any manners?"