Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

"Treason?"

Ruth's head was spinning from the huge hat being placed on her, and she almost dropped the gun in her hand. She looked at the righteous FBI agent in front of her, and then at Shen Jinghong hiding behind him with a "terrified" look on his face. She was furious.

"Smith! Is your brain filled with mush?"

Ruth, disregarding any semblance of ladylike decorum, pointed at Shen Jinghong and launched into a tirade, "This is the guy we're supposed to arrest! He's the one who threw the smokescreen! He's the one who created the chaos!"

"Shut up! Put the gun down!"

Smith ignored her explanations, his finger on the trigger, even turning slightly white with tension. "You say he's a suspect? Then tell me, why did those 'Top Secret' documents fall out from your direction? Why is all this red smoke in the corridor from US Special Forces M18s?"

"I..." Ruth was speechless.

The two smoke grenades did indeed explode at her feet, and the pile of documents was indeed behind her. It was like mud falling into her crotch—even if it wasn't excrement, it was still excrement.

"Still making excuses!"

Shen Jinghong then delivered the final blow. He poked half his head out from behind Smith, pointing at Ruth with a pained expression:

"Sir! Don't listen to her! I just saw her meeting with a Soviet! They got into a fight over the loot, and she's trying to blow up the ship to cover it up! That folder is full of blueprints that haven't been traded yet!"

"Soviets?"

Smith's eyes narrowed; this was a completely different matter. It had gone from simple smuggling to treason. If this was proven true, Smith's promotion and raise would be just around the corner.

"Take her down! Shoot her dead if she resists!"

At Smith's command, several FBI agents who had long disliked the CIA rushed forward like hungry tigers pouncing on their prey.

Although Ruth was quite skilled, she didn't dare to move under the sight of several submachine guns pointed at her, and could only watch helplessly as she was pinned against the wall and her Colt pistol was disarmed.

"Let me go! You bunch of idiots! I need to see the captain! I'm on a secret mission!"

Ruth struggled desperately, her once elegant blonde hair now a mess, her face covered in soot, making her look extremely disheveled.

"Take her to her room and search it! I want to see what other tricks are hidden here!"

Smith waved his hand, and the group, holding Ruth in place, kicked open the door to room 301 next door—Ruth's actual room.

As a "key witness," Shen Jinghong naturally followed in with a look of "fear."

As soon as he entered the room, Shen Jinghong's eyes quickly scanned the surroundings. Taking advantage of the chaos as the agents pinned Ruth to the chair, he pretended to trip over the carpet and stumbled towards the bed.

"Ouch!"

He exclaimed in surprise, his hand seemingly unintentionally bracing itself against the shadows under the bed.

"System, don't be shy, give me back all the US military-issue grenades you've stored there, and those few Thompson submachine guns that I don't really like!"

[Beep! Supplies successfully released.]

Without a sound, a heavy box of weapons appeared out of nowhere under the bed.

Shen Jinghong quickly got up, clapped her hands, then pointed under the bed and let out an exaggerated scream:

"My God! What's that, sir? There's something under the bed! Lots of guns!"

Upon hearing this, Smith immediately bent down and looked under the bed, and gasped in shock.

Good guy!

A whole box of active-duty US military repeating weapons, plus a dozen unopened hand grenades! That firepower is enough to hijack this passenger ship twice!

"Miss Ruth, you still say you're not an arms dealer?"

Smith dragged the box of weapons from under the bed, his face so dark it could drip water. "A CIA agent carrying such heavy firepower contraband, and hiding it under the bed? Are you planning to stage a coup in Hong Kong?"

"This...this isn't mine!"

Ruth stared wide-eyed at the box of weapons that had appeared out of nowhere. She was a secret agent; carrying a handgun for self-defense was one thing, but why was she carrying something this massive? Did she want to die even faster?

"This is a frame-up! That bastard framed me!"

She pointed at Shen Jinghong frantically, her eyes filled with a venomous hatred that seemed to want to devour him. "He's performing magic! There weren't any of these things in the room just now!"

"That's enough!"

Smith slammed his hand on the table, making teacups bounce. "You dare to talk nonsense to my face? He was with me the whole time, his hands were empty, how could he frame you? Is he a magician who can conjure a submachine gun under your bed?"

Shen Jinghong huddled in the corner, blinking innocently, looking even more wronged than Dou E.

"Sir, she's trying to drag me down with her. I'm just a defenseless international student; I wouldn't even dare kill a chicken normally, let alone witness something like this!"

As he spoke, he gave a couple of jerks and pushed up his glasses. "I think she's a double agent. She wanted to sell these technologies and weapons to the Reds. She's desperate now that she's been discovered."

These words were logically sound and reasonable, effectively sealing Ruth's fate.

At this moment, the captain, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, arrived with a large number of security personnel and blocked the entrance. Seeing the pile of "top-secret documents" and a box of weapons, the captain's face turned green.

"Take him away! Take him away right now!"

The captain roared, "Lock that madwoman in the lower deck's solitary confinement! Keep a close watch on her! If she gets away, we're all doomed!"

Smith waved his hand triumphantly, and several of his men immediately pulled out handcuffs and tightly cuffed Ruth's hands behind her back.

Ruth was being pushed and shoved as she walked out. When she passed Shen Jinghong, she suddenly stopped.

Those azure eyes, once alluring, were now filled only with endless resentment and a chilling clarity. She stared intently at Shen Jinghong, lowering her voice to force out a single sentence:

"Shen Jinghong...you've been hiding this well. This score isn't settled yet."

"Goodbye, Miss Ruth."

Shen Jinghong smiled and waved, replying casually in a voice only she could hear, "By the way, remember to do push-ups in the solitary confinement room; it'll be good for your autonomic nervous system disorder."

Ruth was so angry she almost spat out blood, but before she could lash out, she was roughly pushed away by the agent.

The smoke in the corridor gradually dissipated.

A high-pressure search originally targeting international students ended in an absurd farce of "internal strife among secret agents."

Now that the "culprit" had been caught red-handed, Smith naturally didn't bother searching the other passengers. To him, catching a defector CIA agent was a much greater achievement than catching a few poor students.

"Everyone, please disperse! It's all alright! It was just a misunderstanding!"

Smith was in high spirits and even patted Shen Jinghong on the shoulder with admiration. "Young man, not bad. As an ordinary citizen, you have a high level of awareness. When we get back to the country, I will apply for a Good Citizen Medal for you."

"That's right, that's right. Cooperating with the FBI to fight crime is the duty of every citizen."

Shen Jinghong saw off this plague god with a fawning expression.

The corridor remained quiet until the passengers who had come to watch the spectacle returned to their rooms, still shaken.

Shen Jinghong leaned against the wall, let out a long sigh, and wiped the cold sweat from her forehead.

That move just now, seemingly smooth and effortless, was actually like dancing on a tightrope. If Rose had been a little calmer, or if Smith had been a little more suspicious, he would be the one in handcuffs right now.

"Wonderful."

A cool, clear voice came from the corner.

Lin Qinghan held the suitcase and leaned against the door frame of room 302.

She looked at Shen Jinghong, her eyes, usually as cold as ice, now carrying a faint smile. She didn't speak, but silently raised her right hand and gave Shen Jinghong a thumbs up.

This simple gesture, under the dim light, speaks volumes.

That was recognition between comrades-in-arms, and also a tacit understanding between wise men.

"So-so, third in the world."

Shen Jinghong grinned, about to say something witty, when suddenly the floor beneath his feet shook violently.

"Ugh—!!!"

A long and powerful whistle pierced the night sky, making people's hearts tremble.

Immediately afterwards, the ship began to rock more violently. The previously steady voyage became somewhat bumpy, and the sound of the waves crashing against the hull became even more intense.

Shen Jinghong and Lin Qinghan exchanged a glance, and the smiles in their eyes instantly vanished, replaced by a light called "hope".

This tremor signifies one thing:

The USS President Wilson has sailed out of U.S. territorial waters at full speed.

At this moment, the sea beneath their feet no longer belongs to the jurisdiction of any country.

This is international waters.

It is also the most dangerous, chaotic, and ambiguous area on the ship.

"We've entered international waters."

Shen Jinghong glanced at the pitch-black sea outside the window, then turned to look at Lin Qinghan, her gaze becoming somewhat profound:

"Ms. Lin, the cuckoldry you experienced before was just an appetizer. The real battleground is yet to come. Are you ready?"

Lin Qinghan pushed up her glasses, hugged the box in her arms even tighter, and said firmly:

"I'd go to hell if it were just to get home."

Shen Jinghong smiled.

"It's not quite hell. But..." He pointed to his own room, 303, whose lock had been kicked open, then to Lin Qinghan's room, 302, which was also in disrepair, a hint of helplessness on his face:

"It looks like we'll have to be 'roommates' tonight. After all, an unlocked door like this might keep out gentlemen, but it won't stop perverts."