Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

At the end of the corridor, the poor mahogany door finally let out a mournful groan, unable to bear the weight any longer.

"Snap!"

With splinters flying, the lock snapped shut. Ruth, like an enraged lioness, kicked open the door to room 302 and stormed in, her aura of menace palpable.

"Search! That woman is definitely hiding under the bed! Tear the floorboards up!"

Her roar was sharp and piercing, sounding particularly ferocious amidst the heavy breathing of the burly men.

However, all she was met with was deathly silence and an empty single bed.

"Damn it! Where is everyone?!"

Ruth, enraged, grabbed the teacup on the table and smashed it on the floor, shards flying everywhere. "I clearly heard noises inside! They can't have gone far! They must be on this floor!"

She was roaring, unaware that the "bookworm" she wanted to devour alive was currently pulling Lin Qinghan into hiding in the shadows of a ventilation shaft corner ten meters away.

Shen Jinghong held two heavy iron cans in his hands, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, like a naughty child about to light firecrackers.

"Miss Lin, cover your mouth and nose. Let's treat these American friends to a good show."

Lin Qinghan stared at the object in his hand. In the dim light of the emergency lamp, she could make out the white spray-painted lettering on the can:

**M18 Colored Smoke Grenade (Red)**

(M18 Color Smoke Grenade - Red)

"This is... a US military tactical smoke canister?"

Lin Qinghan's pupils contracted, and her voice trembled, "Where did you get this? Detonating this thing in a confined space will cause panic!"

"Panic is the right thing to do."

Shen Jinghong raised an eyebrow matter-of-factly. "If we don't panic, why would those FBI agents rush over like mad dogs? If we don't panic, how are we going to throw this dirty water on Ruth's head?"

As he spoke, his eyes suddenly sharpened, like a hunter locking onto its prey.

"System, give me a 'family bucket' meal."

With a thought, Shen Jinghong conjured a stack of file folders out of thin air—discarded blueprints he had casually taken from the Lockheed factory. Although they had no core value, the conspicuous "TOP SECRET" red stamp on the cover was enough to make any agent's blood boil.

He crouched low, using the shadows as cover, and flicked his wrist like throwing a frisbee.

"Whoosh—"

The stack of document bags slid across the floor and came to a precise stop near the stairwell Ruth had just come from, in an extremely conspicuous location.

Immediately afterwards, Shen Jinghong pulled the safety pin off the smoke bomb in his hand.

"bite."

A crisp metallic clanging sound echoed in the corridor.

Ruth, who was rummaging through drawers in room 302, suddenly turned around. Her agent's intuition made her hair stand on end: "What was that sound?!"

"Here's a gift for you! Here you go!"

Shen Jinghong gave a low shout, and two smoke grenades flew out of his hand.

One rolled down the floor into room 302 and landed right at Ruth's feet.

He tossed another one into the central ventilation duct above his head, making a series of clanging sounds as it quickly spread throughout the ship along the duct.

"F**k! Grenade! (Grenade!)"

Ruth was terrified when she saw the smoking metal can at her feet. Her previous arrogance instantly turned into extreme fear. She didn't have time to figure out what kind of bomb it was; her survival instinct made her pounce on the door like a startled rabbit.

"Boom—Swoosh!!!"

There was no explosion as expected.

With a piercing hiss, a thick, suffocating cloud of red smoke exploded out instantly!

This is a signal smoke grenade used by the US military to indicate targets in open battlefields, producing an astonishing amount of smoke. In the narrow, confined corridors of a ship, the effect of such a smoke grenade would be catastrophic.

In the blink of an eye, room 302 was filled with thick red smoke, which then surged into the corridor like a raging flood, engulfing everything in sight.

"Cough cough cough! My God! What the hell is this thing?!"

"My eyes! They're burning! It's poison gas! It must be poison gas!"

The burly men Ruth brought were choked so badly that tears streamed down their faces. They clutched their throats, rolled on the ground, and screamed like pigs being slaughtered.

At the same time, orange smoke began to billow from the ventilation ducts overhead, instantly turning the entire third-class cabin into a living hell.

"Waaaaah—waaaah—!!!"

The piercing fire alarm suddenly blared, and the mournful siren echoed throughout the entire "President Wilson".

"Fire! Fire!"

"Help! There's a poison gas leak!"

Countless passengers were jolted awake, screaming as they rushed out of their rooms, only to be plunged into a pitch-black, colorful fog. Chaos, pushing, and trampling ensued, and panic exploded like a virus.

"Now!"

Shen Jinghong grabbed Lin Qinghan's hand with a strength that was reassuring. He took out two pre-prepared wet towels from his pocket and, without a word, pressed them against Lin Qinghan's face.

"Come with me! Don't let go!"

He grabbed Lin Qinghan and instead of running towards the exit, he charged towards the other end of the corridor, facing the chaotic crowd.

That was the only route FBI agent Smith could take to get there.

Smith was leading four or five of his men, carrying Thompson submachine guns, and sweating profusely as they rushed down the stairs.

"Damn it! What's happening down there? Is it really on fire?"

Smith cursed as he ran. If the ship sank, forget about catching people; everyone would be feeding the fish.

As soon as he rounded the corner, he saw a thick red fog ahead, obscuring everything.

Just then, a disheveled figure stumbled out of the smoke.

It was Shen Jinghong.

At this moment, his hair was disheveled, his glasses were askew on his ears, and his face was smeared with black ash. One hand was tightly protecting the trembling Lin Qinghan behind him, while the other hand pointed at the billowing red smoke behind him, letting out a heart-wrenching roar:

"Help! Murder!"

"That crazy woman blew up the ship! She's a Soviet spy! She's going to destroy this place!"

The way he screamed was so heartbreaking, it was enough to make anyone who heard it weep. He perfectly portrayed an innocent international student who was "overly frightened".

Smith paused, instinctively lowering the gun: "What crazy woman? You mean Ruth?"

"It's that blonde woman!"

Shen Jinghong rushed to Smith, grabbed his trench coat collar as if it were a lifeline, and spoke at a rapid pace like a machine gun:

"Sir! I saw it with my own eyes! She stormed into that room with a bunch of thugs and threw a bomb! She was yelling something like 'If I can't have it, I'll destroy it!' She's insane!"

"Look! Look over there!"

Shen Jinghong turned around abruptly and pointed to the stairwell where he had just thrown the file bag.

Through the thinning smoke, Smith immediately spotted the conspicuous file folder on the ground and the glaring red "TOP SECRET" stamp on it.

Not far from the file folder, Ruth emerged from the smoke, covered in soot, still holding a gun and cursing under her breath:

"Cough cough... That damn bastard... I'm going to kill him!"

Anyone who sees this scene would misunderstand.

A woman holding a gun, her face filled with murderous intent.

"Top Secret Documents" scattered all over the place.

There was also toxic smoke and alarms throughout the ship.

The doubt in Smith's eyes instantly turned into ecstasy and ruthlessness.

This is hardly a simple search! This is clearly a double-cross by those bastards in the CIA, who are even willing to carry out a terrorist attack to cover up their crimes!

This is an incredible achievement!

"Protect the witnesses!"

Smith shoved Shen Jinghong into the arms of his men behind him, then yanked back the bolt and yelled at Ruth in the smoke:

"FBI! Drop your weapons! Surrender immediately!"

"Ruth! You are suspected of terrorism and treason! Move another inch and I'll riddle you with bullets!"