With three superpowers at his fingertips, he could dominate the 1970s.

At one o'clock in the morning, there was a chill in the air in Dongjing.

Jiang Zhiyu opened her eyes on the park bench and drank a cup of spiritual spring water. Her drowsiness vanished instantly, and her mental energy became clear and sharp.

"Seventeen, teleport directly to the Fukuda family study."

【Received. Target locked—three, two, one—】

The scenery before my eyes shifted slightly. The night breeze vanished, and the people on the bench disappeared.

Before Jiang Zhiyu was a closed room, the air filled with the mixed scents of old paper and sandalwood. By the moonlight filtering through the curtains, Jiang Zhiyu could see the scene before her.

She paused for a moment.

It's less of a study and more of a small library. The walls are three stories high, filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, densely packed with scrolls, file boxes, and manila envelopes, labeled by year and category.

In the center of the room was a large rosewood desk with several documents spread out on it and a celadon teacup that hadn't been put away yet.

The bookshelf on the wall in the center was movable. Jiang Zhiyu could tell at a glance that the entire bookshelf was actually a disguised hidden door, fitting perfectly into the wall without a handle or keyhole.

But when she probed inside with her spiritual power, she found that the space inside was an even larger hidden chamber.

Seventeen.

[Understood—Time stands still. Initiate.]

Time stood still.

It's like someone pressed the pause button.

The light from the streetlights outside the window seemed to freeze in the air, turning the whole world into a still painting. Only Jiang Zhiyu could still move and breathe.

"Time is short," she whispered, "get to work."

She didn't have time to browse through all the documents on the bookshelf. She swept them over with her mental energy—anything sealed with "Top Secret" or "Ultimate Secret" wax, locked in a safe, or placed in a hidden compartment was instantly teleported into her space.

Seventeen simultaneously scanned the contents in his consciousness, categorizing and archiving them: the Fukuda family's overseas asset list, confidential correspondence with political circles, and the cooperation agreement with the Hokushin Yin-Yang Bureau.

The hidden room behind the secret door made her narrow her eyes even more. There were no documents inside, only rows of black velvet trays, neatly arranged on them…

Seals of varying sizes, bronze artifacts, jade discs, bronze jue (wine vessels), and several scrolls of silk scrolls wrapped in silk. The characters on the silk scrolls are in seal script, and the ink has turned brownish, but they are extremely well preserved, as if they were just dug out of the ground and treated to prevent moisture.

Jiang Zhiyu didn't look at them much and took them all.

After sweeping the study, she turned to the storeroom. Her mental energy locked onto the heavy iron door at the deepest part of the mansion's basement level. Behind the door was a vast space, almost occupying the entire underground area of ​​the mansion.

Teleportation.

The next moment, she stood in the center of the warehouse.

"...Goodness."

Even though she was mentally prepared, she was still taken aback by the scene before her.

The warehouse is about three meters high and has an area of ​​more than 300 square meters. It is lit with constant temperature and humidity lights, and rows of metal shelves are neatly arranged.

On the left shelf, gold bars were stacked like brick walls, reaching chest height, with a soft, matte sheen under the light; next to them were silver ingots, piled up even more densely, some with surfaces oxidized and blackened.

A few rows further on, there were boxes and boxes of platinum and palladium, and even a few fist-sized osmium-iridium alloy ingots, locked separately in glass display cases.

Jiang Zhiyu glanced at it and roughly estimated in her mind that these precious metals alone, converted at the current market price, could easily buy several streets in Dongjing.

But she didn't linger, her gaze quickly shifting to the depths of the warehouse.

There were more than a dozen long wooden boxes there. When opened, they were lined with brocade, inlaid with bronze tripods, chime bells, jade cong, gilded Buddha statues, and several framed ancient paintings. The inscriptions on the scrolls were in Chinese characters, dating from the Tang and Song dynasties to the Ming and Qing dynasties. They were in excellent condition, clearly having been carefully maintained for countless years.

Jiang Zhiyu's gaze lingered on a Song Dynasty painting for two seconds. The painting depicted a river scene, with vigorous and rich brushstrokes. The silk surface was slightly yellowed, and in the corner was a collector's seal, bearing the inscription of a collector from the Republic of China era whom she recognized.

"Seventeen, these are all our national treasures," she said in her mind, "take them all away."

[Ok, host. 】

The metal shelves are empty.

The wooden crate is empty.

Even the rows of weapon cases labeled "prototype" in the corner made Jiang Zhiyu hesitate for a moment before taking them. The cases contained several standard rifles and pistols, as well as several boxes of ammunition, the specifications of which were different from those commonly found on the market.

After finishing with the warehouse, she immediately teleported to another old man's study, using her mental energy to lock onto the pile of documents on the desk and quickly rummaging through them.

The seventeenth simultaneous scan filtered out all documents marked with "branch", "branch hall", or "liaison point" and piled them up.

Scan complete—three locations surfaced in my mind. Located in the eastern suburbs, they were all important branch strongholds of the Fukuda family, each responsible for asset management, intelligence relay, and artifact concealment, respectively.

"Remove it overnight."

"Otherwise, once they receive the news tomorrow, they'll strengthen their defenses everywhere. Although I don't mind the trouble, it's always good to avoid it."

[Understood. Host, there are four minutes left in the time freeze.]

"That's enough. Let's go to the master bedroom first."

The master bedroom was located on the second floor of the main building of the mansion, at the far east end. Jiang Zhiyu stood in the empty bedroom and saw a small sandalwood box on the bedside table. Inside the box were several letters and a palm-sized brocade pouch.

Inside the brocade pouch was half a jade pendant, with a clean break, resembling some kind of token.

Take it away.

Several jewelry boxes on the dressing table—take them away.

A vintage sword hangs on the wall, its scabbard lacquered black with gold flecks and engraved with chrysanthemum patterns. Upon closer inspection, the blade's lines are as fine as silk; it's clearly a genuine antique. Take it!

Move what you can, take what you can. The ancient books on the bookshelves, the scrolls in the corners, the documents that hadn't been put away on the table—not a single one was left.

With only one minute left in time, Jiang Zhiyu was already standing outside the walls of the Futian Mansion, enjoying the breeze.

She brushed off non-existent dust from the hem of her clothes and glanced back at the quiet mansion.

[Host, time freeze has ended.]

In the distance, the light from the streetlights began to flow again.

Jiang Zhiyu withdrew her gaze and turned to walk into the night.

Next stop. The outskirts of Tokyo.

The branch office on the outskirts of Tokyo is located in an unassuming office building.

Jiang Zhiyu followed suit and emptied the three-story vault and archives in three minutes, taking all the documents, precious metals, artifacts and weapons with her.

Next came the teleportation, to another branch—a base hidden in a port warehouse. On the surface, it was engaged in import and export trade, but in reality, the basement was filled with antiques and precious metals smuggled from China.

The last intelligence relay station was located in the basement of a hot spring hotel. There were more paper documents than physical objects, but Jiang Zhiyu still accepted them all and had Seventeen scan and archive them before taking the original documents with her.

At 4:17 a.m., Jiang Zhiyu was already sitting on the roof of a small alley.

His sitting posture had a chivalrous air about him.

The night wind ruffled a few strands of her hair, which she tucked behind her ear, her gaze fixed on the gradually brightening horizon in the distance.

"All the things that Old Zhuge Liang mentioned are in the core materials we received today."

Seventeen said in his mind:

"Things that the Fukuda family has lost from our area over the decades include cultural relics, technical data, mineral resource data, hydrological survey archives, and so on."

Hearing this, Jiang Zhiyu stood up and stretched. Her joints made a slight clicking sound.

"Let's go back and catch up on some sleep."

"I'll start going through these things tomorrow."

[Host, aren't you going to check your harvest?]

"What are you looking at? It's not going to run away."

Jiang Zhiyu yawned

"But if I don't sleep, my brain will be mush when I'm looking through the documents tomorrow. I'm off, back to Hengb."

A fleeting flash of light appeared, and the rooftop was empty.