Lin Chen had just finished checking in at the Ross City airport when he sensed something was wrong.
A winding queue stretched before the security checkpoint, while stern-faced FBI agents armed with heavy weaponry patrolled back and forth.
All passengers were required to remove their hats, glasses, and masks for strict facial recognition. Some were even randomly selected for secondary biometric verification in private rooms.
On the massive electronic screen, crimson text scrolled continuously:
"In light of recent major thefts of supplies and abnormal incidents at military facilities nationwide, the country has been elevated to Level 2 combat readiness. Effective immediately, all non-essential international flights are suspended, and enhanced screening will be implemented for departing individuals."
An invisible tension hung thick in the air.
Standing in the shadows at the edge of the crowd, Lin Chen's lips curled into a cold, faint smile. "Hah, finally catching on? Too bad—it's far too late."
Forcing his way through was not a wise strategy. The United States now resembled a powder keg, where the slightest spark could trigger a nationwide explosion.
Flights bound for East Asia, in particular, had likely already been placed under intense surveillance by the FBI and the Department of Homeland Security.
Rubbing his chin, his gaze seemed to pierce through the faint outline of the Great Lakes visible outside the window, stretching toward the northern land adorned with the maple leaf emblem.
"If flights are out of the question, then... I'll change direction and go through Maple Leaf Country."
With his decision made, he set out that very night.
Under the cover of deep darkness, he returned to the Great Lakes.
The shoreline, recently "cleansed" by him, was muddy and treacherous, the exposed lakebed glistening slickly under the moonlight.
"Shift!"
His figure vanished abruptly, reappearing a hundred meters away. Without pause, he flickered again... repeating the cycle over and over, tracing an invisible zigzag across the silent North American wilderness.
Four hours of intense spatial jumps drained nearly all his stamina. By the time he reached a secluded road in Maple Leaf Country, his legs felt weak, and his temples throbbed violently.
But he merely wiped the cold sweat from his forehead harshly, caught his breath briefly, and continued toward the distant glow of a town.
No blaring alarms, no border guards—in this seemingly orderly pre-apocalyptic world, national borders were impenetrable fortresses to ordinary people. But to a reborn individual like him, wielding unconventional means, they were nothing more than dotted lines on a map to be crossed at will.
The nights in Maple Leaf Country were tranquil and serene, like something out of a fairy tale.
Lin Chen checked into a cheap motel without much thought.
After a hot shower, he collapsed onto the soft but thin mattress, staring at the fine cracks on the ceiling as his thoughts churned.
"Midnight is approaching, and the third Special Ability will unlock soon," he murmured to himself, a calculating glint in his eyes. "This time, I hope it's an ability to 'manipulate minds.'"
The lessons from his past life were etched deeply into his memory—too often, he had not been defeated by lack of strength, but by pointless reverence for rules, naive trust in order, and that laughable sense of "loyalty" that meant nothing in the apocalypse.
In the apocalypse, there are no rules—only the law of the jungle for survival, and cruel truths wrapped in lies.
"Invisibility? Too passive, only good for hiding. Lightning? Powerful but too conspicuous, easily making one a target. Healing? I don't need to play the savior."
His gaze sharpened like a blade in the dim room. "What I need is—to make others willingly obey my will, even make them genuinely believe it was the right choice all along."
When the clock's hands aligned silently, midnight arrived.
Deep within his consciousness, the Primordial Creation Pearl trembled faintly. A familiar warmth surged out once more, flowing through his limbs before imprinting a new mark in his mind:
[S-Rank · Mind Suggestion (Level 1)]
Effect: Mental power increased tenfold. Through brief eye contact, a clear command can be implanted in targets with lower mental strength. The target will perceive the command as reasonable and act on it voluntarily. Effect lasts 10 minutes.
Limitations: Cannot order the target to commit suicide or perform actions severely against their survival instincts. After the effect ends, the target's memory of the event becomes hazy, without the mental anguish of forced control.
"Perfect." Lin Chen's eyes flashed with intensity, almost laughing under his breath. "This isn't mere hypnosis… This is consciousness guidance on a higher dimension—a meticulously woven 'reasonable' trap."
From this, he could almost certainly conclude that the Primordial Creation Pearl was no inert object; behind it lay some form of sentience or supreme law.
Once or twice might be coincidence, but this third awakening of a Special Ability, so precisely answering his inner desires, was undeniable proof.
The next morning, he changed into a well-pressed light-colored shirt, combed his hair meticulously, and entered Toronto Central Station looking every bit the young business professional.
His goal was clear: purchase a connecting flight ticket to Tokyo.
The challenge: he had to pass through passport checks, visa verification, and exit screening—a near-impossible task for an ordinary identity. But now, he had his "cheat code."
Behind the ticket counter was a sweet-smiling, blonde, blue-eyed young woman named Emily, according to her name tag.
Lin Chen stepped forward, handed over his passport, and spoke politely, "Hello, I need a ticket to Tokyo for today, as soon as possible."
Emily took the passport, offering her usual professional smile as she prepared to process the request.
The moment she looked up, Lin Chen leaned forward slightly, his gaze meeting hers directly.
Deep within his pupils, a faint, elusive glimmer seemed to flicker for an instant—so brief it could be mistaken for a trick of the light.
"Look into my eyes, Emily," he said, his voice low and steady, carrying a strangely soothing power.
Emily's fingers paused almost imperceptibly over the keyboard. A fleeting haze crossed her eyes before she returned to "normal"—only her smile seemed more genuine now, tinged with personal warmth.
"Mr. Lin, your passport information… the system is showing some delay," she said, her tone still gentle but proactively offering a solution. "But don't worry, I can initiate a special channel for manual processing. Is this an urgent business trip?"
"Yes, there's a very important meeting." Lin Chen nodded along with her words.
"Understood." Emily's fingers danced across the keyboard. "I've found the next available flight via Vancouver... Ah, there happens to be one last first-class seat available. I've upgraded you complimentary, hoping you'll have a comfortable journey."
Lin Chen could barely suppress the smile forming on his lips—this was no ordinary ticket agent, but rather a thoughtful personal travel concierge.
In less than ten minutes, he walked out of the station with a brand-new boarding pass and itinerary in hand, his steps measured and composed.
Behind him, Emily waved enthusiastically: "Have a pleasant journey, Mr. Lin! Looking forward to serving you again!"
He turned back with a flawless smile: "Thank you, Emily. Remember... drink more warm water during work breaks, take good care of yourself."
By the time Lin Chen stepped out of Tokyo Narita Airport, night had fallen deeply.
Customs inspection in Japan was considerably more relaxed compared to the United States—after all, who would suspect that this seemingly ordinary young tourist had recently made half of North America's material reserves "mysteriously vanish"?
He checked into a capsule hotel with strong local characteristics.
During the day, he perfectly played the role of a curious backpacker: taking photos at Kaminarimon Gate in Asakusa, browsing through Akihabara's electronics district, pausing before luxury store windows in Ginza.
But when night enveloped the city, he would transform once again into the "Ghost of Tokyo."
Convenience stores? From cash registers to warehouses, completely cleared out.
Drugstores? Shelves along with inventory, directly taken away.
Seemingly ordinary weapon model shops? The real firearms hidden in secret basement compartments? Graciously accepted.
He even infiltrated a major conglomerate's secret storage warehouse—mountains of Koshihikari Rice, vintage sake, high-grade miso, top-grade Wagyu beef freezers... as if visited by the most thorough moving service in history.
At Yokosuka Port, he set his sights on a Maritime Self-Defense Force comprehensive supply ship in standby mode.
"My future mobile maritime base, it's you," he murmured, lightly patting the cold hull as his consciousness enveloped it, making the massive vessel quietly disappear.
Within just five days, Tokyo, Osaka, and Nagoya successively fell victim.
Convenience store owners stared at empty shelves on the verge of tears: "Where are my rice balls? They didn't even leave me a single sheet of nori!"
Police wrote in their case reports: "Suspected systematic looting by a highly organized overseas theft group with advanced technological means..."
Online discussions in Japan were even more imaginative:
"It must be aliens! Didn't America already confirm it?"
"Would aliens care about your toilet paper and rice balls? This is clearly superpower crime!"
"Hahaha, is the world about to descend into chaos? Turbulent times create heroes—my chance has come!"
When netizens back in China learned about it, celebrations erupted:
"666, the master is eternal."
"Our ancestors are showing their power."
"We common folks are really, truly happy."
Meanwhile, Lin Chen, at the eye of the storm, sat peacefully in a quaint Kyoto tea house, leisurely sipping slightly bitter matcha while scrolling through his phone to browse the latest news:
"'Urban Scavenger' suspected to have appeared in Tokyo, modus operandi highly similar to North American 'Ghost Case,' experts speculate it might be the work of the same international criminal organization..."
He took a sip of tea, a trace of mockery flashing in his eyes. "Take your time deducing, detectives. My vacation should come to an end now."
Ultimate goal: Return to Yangcheng. Only five days remained until the apocalypse arrived!
"The old method is the most reliable," he narrowed his eyes.
That night, at Osaka Kansai International Airport, another Japanese ticket agent momentarily appeared dazed before enthusiastically processing a first-class ticket for a passenger named "Lin Chen," flying directly to Yangcheng, China.
Lin Chen straightened his collar and swaggered toward the boarding gate under the agent's respectful gaze.