Chapter Six: A Threat from the Thugs

Just as Zhu Lan had drifted off to sleep, a fierce knocking erupted at the door. Frowning in irritation, Zhu Lan had no choice but to get dressed and open it.

Standing outside was a sharp-looking man. Zhu Lan recognized him immediately and scowled, “What is it?” The visitor was Qin Shi, one of the five men on staff, and Zhu Lan recalled that Qin Shi was on duty tonight.

The five of them rotated shifts—three during the day, two at night. If anything came up, they would wake the others. Two of them were currently living in Warehouse No. 2. Since the website for Illusion Technology was still under construction and there were no servers yet, Zhu Lan had simply let them stay there for the time being.

When Zhu Lan had hired the renovation company, he’d asked them to divide the warehouse into several sections. The front was fitted out as living quarters for the staff, with two floors—women on the second, men on the first. Other areas were still under construction. Beside Warehouse No. 1 and No. 2 was a vacant lot; Zhu Lan planned to turn it into a dining space. Prefab buildings were cheap these days, and everything was just beginning. For now, this was all Zhu Lan could manage, but once things got going, he fully intended to purchase the land and build a proper office tower.

“Boss, someone’s causing trouble for us!” Qin Shi reported.

Zhu Lan’s frown deepened. He didn’t ask for details but strode straight out the door, Qin Shi hurrying to keep up.

At Warehouse No. 3, Yu Dongming was already waiting. The place was in chaos. Zhu Lan scowled—this warehouse had been prioritized for renovation, so much equipment had been moved there, but now it looked as though it had been trashed, items scattered all over.

“What happened?” Zhu Lan demanded, more than a little angered. He hadn’t offended anyone, so who would be so ruthless?

Yu Dongming looked uneasy. He’d promised security that afternoon, and now this had happened.

“Boss, it was a gang. They arrived in two vans, started smashing things as soon as they got out. Before we could react, they shouted something and sped off. We couldn’t catch them,” Yu Dongming said with a bitter smile. It stung even more since all of them were military veterans.

“What did they say?” Zhu Lan closed his eyes, already guessing the answer.

Yu Dongming hesitated, watching Zhu Lan carefully. “They said if we don’t pay protection money, we can forget about doing business here.”

Zhu Lan’s eyes snapped open. “Hmph. Clean this mess up!” he snapped, storming off in anger.

Back at his quarters, Zhu Lan wore a dark expression. He’d lived in the city long enough to know how brazen these gangs could be, but he hadn’t expected them to come for him.

In the past, Zhu Lan would have avoided trouble at all costs. But now…

“If others leave me alone, I’ll leave them alone!” he muttered.

He turned on his computer and opened a police drama.

Reality began to twist and ripple.

As promised, Zhu Lan provided room and board for his staff. He’d already asked Cheng Xue to hire a cook, but for now, she just ordered takeout. Though the northern suburbs were remote, there were still places to eat.

The warehouse Zhu Lan had rented was huge, with more space than he needed. He’d had it partitioned into several zones, the servers slated for the innermost area.

The warehouse complex was embedded like a cluster of gems, ringed at the back by trees, a legacy of old zoning policies. Were it not for those, the trees would have been long gone.

To accommodate the items he’d extracted from movies, Zhu Lan left only a desk within three meters of his workspace. Even the power and network cables snaked in from outside, keeping everything completely isolated.

Gradually, virtual objects became tangible—a police uniform here, another there, all distinctly American in style. Though they were of an older design, anyone could recognize them at a glance.

One set, two, and on up to ten, before the transformation shifted to other equipment—batons, stun batons, tasers—each piece materializing from the frozen frame of the police drama. For days, Zhu Lan had focused on such shows because they contained everything he needed: not just police gear and vehicles, but also the luxury villas and sports cars of the drug lords, antiques, jewels, gold, dollars—everything he could easily extract for now. The elemental makeup of these items was simple, far less complex than high-tech or high-energy devices.

He’d considered pulling an antique or two from a foreign adventure film. Whether it was “National Treasure” or “Treasure Quest,” there were always countless artifacts, each worth millions or even priceless. Any one of them could solve his company’s start-up woes at a stroke.

Under his bed, Zhu Lan kept a curved blade from the ancient Babylonian Empire, encrusted with gems easily worth over a hundred million dollars. The blade was razor-sharp, too—an item he’d taken from “National Treasure,” chosen because Zhu Lan happened to be a fan of cold weapons.

He’d been tempted to extract more gold and jewels, but stopped short, unsure how he’d sell them off.

The next day, Zhu Lan wheeled a cart to the security office. Though not fully built, it was already functional.

“These are your new tools. And if those thugs come back, I don’t want to see any more damage. If you can’t handle that lot even with this gear, you’re not worth keeping around!” Zhu Lan fixed Yu Dongming with a frosty stare, then turned and left.

As Zhu Lan’s figure disappeared, Yu Dongming clenched his fists. As one of the top three special forces soldiers in the southwest, he had his pride. Even retired, he hadn’t lost it. He’d thought this job would be a breeze, yet trouble had struck on his very first day. Zhu Lan was offering them a salary of over five thousand, and Yu Dongming himself was making eight thousand a month—a high wage even in a first-tier city, let alone a second-tier one.

Zhu Lan’s money didn’t grow on trees, but he wasn’t worried about running out. He could always take a trip abroad and sell off an artifact or two. Still, unless forced, he had no intention of leaving the country—for whenever he even considered it, a chill would rise from the depths of his soul, and he’d give up the idea at once.

The others, seeing Yu Dongming unmoving, didn’t dare open the box either. Finally, Yu Dongming gave an order. “What are you waiting for? Get these things out.” He led them forward and lifted the lid.

Even Yu Dongming, accustomed to much, was stunned by what he saw inside. The other four gathered round, equally speechless.

One of them picked up a uniform and stroked the fabric. “Damn, this is the real deal!”

His exclamation snapped the others out of their daze.

Yu Dongming’s face changed as he examined the uniform more closely—sure enough, it was different.

If it had been domestic, he wouldn’t have been surprised. Police uniforms could be bought in any city, technically illegal but rarely enforced.

But these were clearly American police uniforms—rare even in China, and nearly impossible to obtain without connections. Even custom-made replicas couldn’t match the materials.

All of them were former military, well acquainted with their primary adversary, the United States. American police uniforms were specially made from a unique fiber blend, not easily imitated. More crucially, the fabric was based on the previous generation of U.S. military uniforms—a detail they recognized instantly by touch.

“Look, this is standard-issue—genuine!” Qin Shi picked up a taser and fiddled with it, astonished.

They all had mixed feelings. Firearms, after all, were illegal. As for the rest of the gear, Yu Dongming was certain that only large enterprises or research institutes might have such a complete arsenal—no ordinary place could match it.

Zhu Lan, oblivious to their shock, called a cab and headed to the animal market.

“Boss, what are you looking for? Come have a look!” As soon as Zhu Lan entered, someone tried to usher him in, but he declined with a polite smile and walked further inside.

He’d only been to the animal market once before, to help a friend pick out a puppy. He remembered the dogs were in the deepest section.

Indeed, Zhu Lan’s purpose today was to buy dogs—not just for protection against outsiders, but also for internal security. He knew that, sometimes, a dog’s nose was more effective than any high technology.

He entered a dilapidated little building. Unlike the others, it was quiet inside—no barking. In each cage lay a dog, calm and silent, some drinking, some eating, others sleeping.

“Welcome—” The man sitting inside cut off mid-greeting, staring in surprise.

“Kun Zhen?” Zhu Lan asked, equally astonished to see someone his own age seated there.

Kun Zhen gave a wry smile. “I own this place now.”

“What? You?” Zhu Lan could hardly believe it.

Kun Zhen had been his senior in college, from the countryside, unable to find work even after graduation. The first time Zhu Lan visited this market, it was Kun Zhen who showed him around—not to buy a dog himself, but to help a girlfriend who wanted one. Since she didn’t want to come, Kun Zhen was sent, and Zhu Lan was simply dragged along. Both of them were unemployed at the time, from the same university, and had become two of the few friends they had in the city.

Zhu Lan never would have guessed that Kun Zhen now owned this dog shop. Run-down as it looked, it was the most valuable store in the market, worth at least five million, thanks to several prized animals—one, a half-blood mastiff, had once been offered eight hundred thousand, and the owner refused to sell.

“It’s a long story. Anyway, you’re here to buy a dog?”

Seeing that Kun Zhen didn’t want to explain, Zhu Lan didn’t press. Everyone had their secrets.

Zhu Lan nodded. “I want to give it one more shot while I’m still young. Started a company, but it’s out by the northern suburbs, near the forest.”

Kun Zhen shook his head. “You haven’t changed a bit!” He rose from his chair. “Come on, I’ll make sure you leave satisfied today!”

Zhu Lan smiled and followed him, weaving through rows of kennels and out of the building.