Washington D.C. smelled faintly of maple syrup and high-grade electrical ozone. While the common citizenry scrambled to collect "Sovereign Waffles" from the reflecting pools, the Gala Five landed their private VTOL on the lawn of the Treasury.
Su Meiling stepped out, her designer heels sinking into a stray, gold-plated waffle. She didn't scream; she didn't even swear. She simply looked at the massive hole in the Treasury roof and the "Aegis Net" technicians who were currently weeping into their keyboards.
"He didn't just steal the gold," Lin Xuerui said, her eyes scanning the chaotic skyline. "He insulted the very concept of value. He's showing the world that their ultimate 'security' is nothing more than a plaything for a man who wants breakfast."
"But why?" Seraphina Rose asked, her fascination bordering on a religious epiphany. "He has the Sun-Disk. He has the Manuscript. He doesn't need gold. He's doing this to get our attention... or to distract us from something much bigger."
As the news of the "D.C. Waffle Incident" hit the global airwaves, the internet exploded with theories. Chen Feng was no longer just a criminal; he was an enigma.
The "Economic Reset" Theory: Some believed he was systematically destroying the world's fiat currencies to force humanity back into a spiritual barter system.
The "Lupin Tribute" Theory: Otaku communities argued he was simply trying to complete the "Ultimate Heist" as a tribute to his new animated idol.
The "Sacrificial Lamb" Theory: Deep-web theorists whispered that he was collecting the Seven Treasures to power a machine that would "Delete" the current timeline.
The uncertainty was more effective than any weapon. Stock markets plummeted not because the gold was gone, but because no one knew what Chen Feng would "transmute" next.
While the world's brightest minds were theorizing, the man himself was currently floating over the Thames in a stolen hot air balloon shaped like a giant teapot.
"Gary, look at the Aegis Net here," Chen Feng said, pointing to the shimmering purple light over the Houses of Parliament. "It's much more refined. It has that 'British Politeness'—stiff, formal, and completely useless against a man with an umbrella."
The UK government had diverted their entire social security budget into the London Aegis Grid. Chen Feng found this "unacceptably rude."
He slipped into the Royal Mint and the Bank of England. He didn't transmutation the gold this time; he targeted the Unclaimed Royal Stipends and the "Emergency Brexit Contingency" funds.
Suddenly, the grey, drizzly London sky cleared—not of clouds, but of silence. Thousands of high-end, self-opening umbrellas began to descend. Each one was rigged with a tiny anti-gravity charm that allowed them to float gently into the hands of the pedestrians below.
Each umbrella had a hundred-pound note tucked into the handle and a small tag:
"It's a bit damp out. Use this for a rainy day. Also, your government spent your pension on a laser that doesn't work. Love, the Red Jacket."
The Leading Criminal's Blissful Confusion
By the time the Gala Five arrived at Heathrow, London was a sea of black umbrellas and cheering crowds. The Aegis Net was currently trying to "stabilize" the anti-gravity umbrellas, causing the satellites to spin in circles like confused dogs.
Chen Feng and Gary were already at a pub in Soho, eating fish and chips.
"Boss," Gary whispered, checking a burner phone that was melting from the sheer volume of notifications. "The UN has called an emergency session. They think you're 'weaponizing philanthropy' to overthrow the world order. They think you're planning a Global Coup."
Chen Feng paused, a piece of fried cod halfway to his mouth. He looked genuinely hurt.
"A coup? Gary, that sounds like a lot of paperwork. Why would I want to run a world that can't even get its waffles right?"
"Then what are we doing?" Gary asked, exasperated.
Chen Feng looked at the Manuscript of Fate sitting on the pub table. He noticed another line of ink appearing on the blank page:
"A king without a crown is a man. A man without a king is a Sovereign. A Sovereign with a red jacket is just having fun."
"I'm just finishing the collection, Gary," Chen Feng smiled. "Next stop: The Emperor's First Breath in Asia. I think it's time we showed the East that the 'Old Gods' are just as stuffy as the 'New Governments.'"