Sacra… something? Jing Shu honestly had no clue. That was on her. She had prepped everything for hauling supplies from the U.S. She had tools, gear, and even backup plans, but she had completely forgotten to bring along reference material on the place itself.
If not for Yang Yang pointing his finger at the map, his nail tracing the borders on the thick paper, she wouldn't have even known which side was Mexico and which side was the U.S.
"According to the latest intel, Sacramento originally had 450,000 people," Yang Yang said. "But after the civil unrest and the new government's order to hand over all food, Sacramento was the first to rebel, overthrowing the local government.
The U.S. president doesn't have time to deal with this mess yet, which makes it our perfect starting point. The population has dropped to 300,000, but in the past few days another 300,000 poured in. There are Mexican refugees and all kinds of outsiders. And they're still streaming in."
Jing Shu looked at the map, imagining the chaotic flow of people.
"Sacramento is a hub for economics, agriculture, trade, and logistics," Yang Yang continued. "It's stacked with food and supplies, and it's solid armed forces too. Mexico's agricultural economy collapsed after the apocalypse. Survival became brutally hard, but they have still got their drug-trafficking routes and pre-apocalypse crops.
Now they're treating Sacramento like a second hub for smuggling and trade. Some Mexican groups cut shady deals with locals, trading drugs for food, while others offer themselves as mercenaries. So yeah, Sacramento is a complete stew right now. Dozens of factions, total chaos, but everyone is after one thing: the stockpiles of goods."
He looked around the table, his expression serious. "And remember, don't eat anything sold outside. A lot of it's laced with drugs. It's one of the ways they control people. Our mission here is simple: haul supplies back to China. Food, salt, rare minerals, finished goods, industrial components, cotton, fabric, oil—we want everything. If we can find ADM's food stockpiles, even better. Don't worry about taking too much. The more we find, the better. Even if we strip Sacramento bare, we will get it all shipped home."
That was a bold statement. Basically: take it all.
Yang Yang had finally bared his fangs. On the other hand, China was desperate—desperate for food, desperate for supplies. This wasn't just a trip. This was a raid. This was only the first stop. Jing Shu was sure endless shipments were waiting behind them.
Monkey frowned, his brow furrowing as he leaned over the map. "Sounds nice, but the armed forces here are too strong. We can't just grab things. And with just us? Even if we found that much, we would never move it all."
Ling Ling lowered her head, speaking softly. Her voice was nearly drowned out by the hum of the aircraft engines. "And we don't even know where the goods are. We don't know the city at all. Where do we even start?"
Yang Yang smiled. "That's why we need to work together. We won't move the supplies. We will make them move them to us. That's the only way a few people like us could get hundreds of tons onto ships."
Jing Shu raised a brow. "Men always want others to do the work? …Wait, wrong train of thought."
Tank looked at Yang Yang with open disdain, not hiding his skepticism. "You think people are that stupid?"
Jing Shu thought back uneasily. If they really tricked people out of their supplies, wouldn't those people chase them to the ends of the earth? She remembered last year, when a rocket slammed right into her RV's passenger seat, the explosion nearly shattering her eardrums. What kind of unforgivable thing had they done back then to earn that kind of vengeance?
This year… would they be hunted again? She made up her mind: from now on, she would sleep not just in a bulletproof vest, but inside her mech if possible.
"Alright," Yang Yang said, tapping the table for attention. "We will split into two teams. Each one should have balanced strength. Any objections?"
Zhen Nantian shrugged, his posture relaxed. "You're the strategist. You split us up."
Yang Yang nodded. "One team, led by Tank, will be our 'demolition crew.' Tank, Snake Spirit, Ling Ling, Monkey, and Mirror. You will head to an underground black market through one of my contacts. Go in as mercenaries. Take on high-difficulty jobs, climb your way to S-rank, and once you're on the board, I will set things up so you can reach our real targets. As for me, Zhen Nantian, Monk, and Hao Yunlai, we have got another, more dangerous task. We will regroup in ten days."
Jing Shu noticed Yang Yang pick Monk as his luggage mule instead of Tank. After watching them, she got it. Tank was the type to say he didn't see it, he didn't know, or he couldn't help. Monk, on the other hand, was always ready with a "Leave it to me," standing with sharp awareness and decent martial training.
If the team found out their "commander" chose teammates based on who would carry his bags, they would definitely lose confidence in this mission's success rate.
She felt disappointed. This wasn't what she had imagined at all. She thought they would just storm into the U.S., guns blazing and cannons roaring, then she would quietly stash the loot into her Cube Space. But if they went that loud, they would all be corpses by the second episode.
Nobody objected, so Yang Yang went on. "Until this mission is done, no private business. Anything you can carry yourself is yours. The rest gets turned in, converted into contribution points, or traded for shipping costs."
The twelve-hour flight went fast. Just discussing plans took two hours. Jing Shu spent the rest catching up on sleep, her head resting against the cool window. She didn't dare pull out the Rubik's Cube Space to practice, not with Zhen Nantian sitting there like he could see through everything.
They landed safely in Sacramento. The wheels hit the tarmac with a jolt, and the roar of the engines began to fade.
The first thing Jing Shu did was check her family's signal. Everything was normal. She sent a quick message to let them know she was safe, then finally looked at the city around her.
Unlike China's pitch-black cities, Sacramento's downtown was lit up like before the apocalypse. Neon signs glowed in vibrant pinks and greens, and the streets were bustling with movement. The whole place reeked of indulgence and excess, the air carrying a faint scent of exhaust and fried grease. It looked like paradise.
The U.S. still had power? The third year after the apocalypse, and America still looked like this? Jing Shu was dying to know what exactly had become of this country.