Lin Chen's toes lightly tapped the ground at the mouth of the alley, his figure moving without a sound.
"Smooth! Precise! Almost no delay!" He clenched his fist, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "This is practically cheating!"
A hundred-meter displacement, no cooldown required—as long as his stamina allowed, he could shuttle through space infinitely. As for Spiritual Power? A single gulp of spirit water from the Creation Spirit Pool would suffice.
Combined with the infinitely large storage space, he had essentially become the apocalypse version of the "ultimate mover"—no wages, no fatigue, not even a single shelf left behind.
When he only had the storage space, he had to cautiously and slowly stockpile supplies. But now, with Space Shuttle, a carefree smile spread across Lin Chen's face. He felt he could… be a little bolder.
Without hesitation, he donned the prepared black robe, pulled down the brim of his baseball cap, and his figure flickered continuously through the night like a ghost.
Just in case, he first visited a weapons store.
Shotguns, pistols, AR-15s, crates of ammunition, tactical knives, bulletproof vests, night vision goggles… all the equipment in the entire store was taken by him, item by item.
The entire process was as silent as a cat's footsteps, unnoticed by anyone.
With guns in hand, his confidence grew. He then turned to the nearest large supermarket.
At midnight, the supermarket had long since closed. The rolling shutter was tightly shut, and a security guard was yawning as he paced on patrol.
But for Lin Chen—
Doors? They were just decorations.
He stood quietly before the door, a thought stirring in his mind: "Shuttle!"
"Whoosh—"
He was already inside the supermarket. The lights were dim, shelves neatly arranged, the air carrying the scent of bread and cleaning agents.
"First, eliminate the aftermath."
He walked straight to the surveillance room, storing the hard drives, mainframes, and even cloud backup devices into his space—leaving not a single trace behind.
The looting officially began.
Rice, flour, canned goods, compressed biscuits, bottled water, batteries, flint, military tents… any supplies that could be eaten, used, or sustain life vanished as if swept away by a tornado.
Even the metal shelves were taken, leaving the floor as clean as a mirror, not a speck of dust stirred.
"Perfect efficiency." He nodded in satisfaction.
Like a tireless ghost, he swept through the streets and alleys of Los Angeles overnight, even infiltrating port warehouses and emptying several storage rooms filled with supplies.
Before leaving, several massive ships loaded with grain at the port also disappeared, leaving only countless crew members flailing and shouting for help in the sea.
As the first light of dawn tinged the horizon, Lin Chen, carrying an empty backpack, appeared at the airport and boarded a flight to New York City.
In the morning, shopkeepers opened their doors one after another, only to freeze in place—
The shelves were empty, the floors so clean they reflected light, and even the glass from display cases was gone without a trace.
Some rubbed their eyes, thinking it was an illusion; others frantically called the police, only to hear a busy signal. When the call finally went through, they were shocked to discover that countless shops across the city had been robbed on the same night!
"Could this be a terrorist attack?" the police chief roared, slamming his fist on the table.
"No, it doesn't match," an old investigator shook his head. "Would terrorists sweep a supermarket clean of toilet paper and pet food? This method... seems more like some plucking-madman who takes everything."
Lin Chen grew even more "unhinged" during New York nights.
By day, he wore plaid shirts and glasses, looking like the most ordinary tourist—taking photos in Times Square, feeding pigeons in Central Park.
When night fell, he transformed into an "urban phantom," slipping through convenience stores, outdoor equipment shops, and storage centers.
He even infiltrated a private wine cellar in Brooklyn—"Won't get to drink '82 Lafite after the apocalypse? Then I'll stock up on some '92 vintages first."
The most outrageous scene unfolded at the docks.
He stood on the shore, gazing at the moored seven-story luxury cruise ship—resplendent in gold, complete with a swimming pool and helicopter pad on its deck.
"Tsk," he narrowed his eyes, "One this big? Mine!"
With a single thought, the entire massive vessel vanished into thin air.
"SPLASH! SPLASH!"
Two security guards left on board plunged directly into the sea, flailing and shouting: "Where's the ship?! Where's our ship?!"
Lin Chen had already flashed behind a container a hundred meters away, chuckling silently: "Stop yelling. It'll become my Apocalyptic Mobile Resort someday."
Growing bolder, he ventured to the outskirts of a military port.
"Since the space is infinite, taking a few warships isn't too much," he murmured to himself. "Consider it stocking up for my future maritime fortress."
And so, a frigate, two supply boats, and even a Nimitz-class aircraft carrier undergoing maintenance quietly "evaporated" right under the noses of the U.S. Navy.
The military port's armory was also completely cleared out.
Within just five days, Los Angeles, New York, and other cities reported consecutive "supernatural theft cases":
Supermarkets emptied overnight, not even shelves remaining;
Weapon shops' inventories zeroed out, display cases gone without a trace;
The military port reported three vessels "possibly hijacked by aliens"—and they didn't even dare mention the simultaneously missing aircraft carrier.
The FBI urgently intervened, the CIA pulled satellite footage, and Homeland Security activated counter-terrorism protocols...
But after all the investigation, not a single footprint or fiber was left at any scene.
Even more maddening was that Lin Chen's transportation and target choices followed no discernible pattern, making predictions impossible.
Meanwhile, the mastermind Lin Chen sat leisurely in a Boston café, sipping coffee and scrolling through local news on his phone:
"'Phantom Thief' Sweeps East Coast, Police Powerless..."
He smiled faintly and whispered, "Take your time investigating. I'm off to Houston to relocate some oil and gas reserves."
...
Ten days later, he arrived at his final destination—Duluth.
Standing before his hotel's floor-to-ceiling window, Lake Superior shimmered, its surface mirror-like, reflecting the city lights along the shore.
"One can never have too much freshwater," his eyes burned with intensity. "Once the Blood Rain Cataclysm arrives, ninety percent of the world's water sources will be contaminated. The Great Lakes—one of Earth's purest freshwater reserves—how could we waste it?"
Even though his storage space already held hundreds of thousands of tons of bottled water—it was better to be safe than sorry, and more was always better.
As night fell, he quietly left the hotel.
The lakeshore was silent and deserted, with only the rustling of reeds in the wind.
Changing into a wetsuit he'd conveniently acquired, he dove deep into the center of the lake, took a deep breath, and fully connected his consciousness with his Special Ability space:
"Store!"
With him at its center, the water within a ten-meter radius was instantly drained away by an invisible force, forming a terrifying vortex a hundred meters in diameter that continued to expand.
Yet he stood at the core of this spherical space, completely unaffected by the suction, silent and still.
The lake water surged wildly into the storage space, rapidly gathering into a vast artificial inland sea.
The lake's surface dropped at a visible rate.
One meter... two meters... five meters...
"Isn't this water absorption speed... a bit too exaggerated?" Lin Chen murmured.
It was worth noting that the Great Lakes accounted for about twenty percent of the world's surface freshwater, with Lake Superior alone holding more than half of that volume.
In just half an hour, the water level had already dropped by nearly ten meters.
"It seems the suction of this space is a bit abnormal. I originally only intended to collect some for backup, but now... perhaps I can be a bit more unrestrained."
Previously, he had mostly collected solid objects and hadn't truly experienced the terrifying power of this space when devouring fluids.
In less than five hours, Lake Superior had been drained dry, leaving only countless fish and shrimp floundering helplessly on the exposed lakebed.
Lin Chen quickly moved on, heading downstream to Lake Michigan.
By the time the sky began to lighten, he was already standing on the shore of Lake Ontario.
The water depth in the Great Lakes was now less than a meter, leaving five shocking, enormous depressions.
Fishermen on both the American and Canadian shores pushed their boats out in the morning, only to find them dry-docked at the piers, staring in disbelief: "The lake... where's the lake?!"
The news spread like wildfire. Social media erupted completely:
"It's aliens! I saw a UFO hovering over the lake last night!"
"The Earth's crust has cracked! The planet is doomed!"
"The apocalypse is here! Stock up on supplies—wait, why are the supermarkets emptied too?!"
When the news reached China, however, the tone was somewhat different:
"Which great master made this move? Though it's not exactly honorable, I can't help but feel a bit amused."
"Just finished a bottle of beer, feeling inexplicably refreshed."
"Could this be... karma coming full circle?"
Panic spread like a tide across North America, and a wave of "zero-dollar shopping" swept through the United States.
The government was forced to declare a nationwide curfew, entering a state of wartime readiness.
Standing on the dried-up lakeshore, Lin Chen looked back at the endless freshwater sea within his space, feeling thoroughly satisfied.
"American inventory, cleared out." He brushed off nonexistent dust from his hands, turned, and left, a cold glint flashing in his eyes. "Next—it's time to head to Japan."
A cold smile curled at the corner of his lips as he whispered softly:
"The Three Alls Policy? No, this time it's the 'All-Out Policy.'"