These bullets were ridiculously heavy, and the crates weren't any lighter. Even if Jing Shu had superhuman strength, how much could she possibly carry? A single person, without any tools or assistance, moving tons of bullets? The exit was hundreds of meters away. Even if she had the strength of Hercules, how far could she last? How many could she move before collapsing?
"Fifty kilos at most," Jun Jia said lazily. "Our best record so far was one guy carrying ten crates, around a hundred twenty kilos, which is about ten thousand rounds. That's roughly three hundred thousand virtual coins' worth."
He found a place to sit and crossed one leg over the other, bouncing his foot casually. He figured she'd probably try dragging the boxes with her clothes or something, but anyone would be wiped out after a hundred meters. Even trained men struggled to carry ten crates that far, so how could a petite woman like her possibly drag all that to the exit?
Time was ticking. Jing Shu first confirmed the ammo specs she needed. To her surprise, there were still large-caliber shells for German MAN roof-mounted recoilless guns.
She started stacking boxes according to her needs. The saying "greed makes the snake swallow the elephant" fit her perfectly. Ten crates stacked together stood two meters tall, and she made sixteen such rows—an entire miniature mountain of bullets. Moving over two tons of ammo and crates in one go wasn't just impossible, it was suicidal. Even if she managed it, she'd draw way too much attention.
"Breaking news: a woman in Wu City carried off two tons of bullets at lightning speed. The Institute for All-Kinds-of-Research has detained her, suspecting she evolved a new gene!"
Yeah, that kind of headline would definitely bring her trouble.
Humanity's biggest strength wasn't brawn, it was brains.
"Quick question," she called out. "Would the bullets explode if they got crushed?"
Jun Jia spat and shook his head. "That only happens with black powder. These are passivated TNT rounds. They only go off if the fuse detonates."
"Perfect." Jing Shu clapped her hands and pulled out a coil of special steel wire she'd gotten from Qian Duoduo. She picked out large-caliber bullets and slid them under the bottom crates, then gave them a push to test.
Creak.
The bullets flattened a bit, deforming into odd oval shapes that made it hard to roll forward. The stack jammed and stopped moving. Clearly, stacking them that high made it too heavy to push.
She adjusted the setup, cutting each stack down to eight crates.
"Hurry it up! You've got fifteen minutes left and haven't even started moving," Jun Jia scolded, frowning. What was this girl even doing? She'd spent ten minutes piling crates like she wanted to take all of them. Was she out of her mind?
Now she was wasting another five minutes tying things together and doing weird experiments. Was she seriously planning to strap bullets underneath and roll them forward like wheels? That was impossible. The bullets were too smooth to fix in place, and even if she did, she couldn't push them properly. Just like her earlier attempt—it barely moved a meter before getting stuck. How long would it take to reach the gate like that?
And bullets weren't wheels. They were asymmetrical—one end pointy, one flat. How the hell was that supposed to roll? Dream on.
"Heh, fine by me," Jun Jia thought smugly. "The longer she wastes time, the less she'll take. When the timer's up, she won't get a single bullet."
But then, Jing Shu began working at lightning speed. She wove two narrow but long belts out of the large-caliber bullets. Box after box turned into part of a continuous track under her hands. Jun Jia's jaw dropped. Those big rounds were expensive as hell! Still…
"Whatever," he muttered. "She won't make it far anyway. I'll just have someone collect everything later."
He checked his watch. "You've got five minutes left! Even if you sprint, you won't make it. Just give up and pick something else!"
Jing Shu let out a deep breath and locked the final piece of the track in place. "Right on time. Let's go."
With a sharp pull, the first row of crates started moving. Then, to Jun Jia's utter disbelief, the stacked boxes began to roll forward one row after another like a goddamn freight train. The sound of faint creaks filled the air as the flat ends of the bullets fit snugly under each crate's corners, locking them in just enough to keep everything balanced.
Each stack of eight crates linked together into twenty connected "cars," joined by steel wire. Underneath, the large-caliber bullets formed twin tracks that scraped across the floor, pushing everything forward. It looked just like twenty miniature tank carriages linked together by wire, and Jing Shu was the locomotive pulling them.
She jogged cheerfully in front while Jun Jia chased behind, sweating buckets. Shock, disbelief, and frustration tangled inside him like a storm.
"What the hell?! Have I lost my mind, or has the world gone crazy?! How the hell did that woman just make bullets work as wheels?!"
He kept cursing under his breath, half-hoping the wire would snap or the crates would topple, but the whole thing moved steady as a tank.
"Slow down! I can't keep up!"
Fuck, weren't you supposed to be nature's mover? How come you secretly added wheels?!
"If I slow down, I won't make it in time!" she shouted back.
"You're cheating! That doesn't count!"
"I'm using rope, like you said. And I'm using tools I brought with me, no external help. You never said bullets couldn't be used as pads. If you've got a problem, let's go ask your brother-in-law to settle it!"
Jing Shu was an experienced driver—fast, precise, and steady. Jun Jia, a sweaty middle-aged man, couldn't even keep up. By the time he stumbled out of the building, gasping for air, Jing Shu was already gone.
Only the old guard at the gate remained, holding out his hand. "Sir, please settle the bill for the ammo that was just taken out."
Jun Jia's face turned dark. "Nephew, looks like your uncle's gonna need to borrow from your little vault again… sorry, kid."
…
"Guess what," Jing An said that night. "They suddenly replaced the deputy director's candidate with me today. Even the director's treating me politely now."
"Minister Niu told me his position was already set in stone, but this afternoon they said I'd be taking it instead. He said I must have a hell of a backer. In just two years I've jumped four levels—faster than he ever did."
"What a coincidence," Su Lanzhi said, exchanging a look with her husband before both turned toward their daughter, who was neatly organizing bullets in the warehouse. Could this be her doing again?
Though today, their daughter was acting a bit unusual—almost too cheerful. Even when Su Long finished all the grilled skewers and cold noodles Grandma Jing made specially for her, she didn't say a word.
Instead, she just smiled gently and said, "It's fine, I'll make more later."