"Robbery is an art, and we are its artists!" In a dimly lit corner of the amusement park, Guo Guo, having just led a successful high-speed theft, was now delivering a lecture to a cluster of bronze and porcelain relics. "Now then, can anyone tell me why this is considered an art form?"
The Four-Rams Square Vessel and the Mutton-Fat Jade Bottle exchanged confused glances, swaying in unison with eager, inquisitive expressions upon their faces.
Che Che, standing aside with a disdainful look, muttered, "Idiots! Can't you see? It's because we use the medium of performance art, addressing the masses to unveil the deep-rooted security issues plaguing our society!"
"Oh, is that so?" A collective look of sudden enlightenment spread across the art pieces' faces, as though they'd been struck by a bolt of divine clarity.
Nuo Nuo added with gravity, "Since it's an art, there are three crucial aspects we must consider — first, the stage and lighting... For instance, a quiet alley bathed in dim streetlight makes the perfect backdrop!"
"Precisely!" Pointing to the scene of their recent performance, Guo Guo elaborated with fervor, "Granted, the setting may be crude, but true artists are never picky. Even the humblest of stages and the murkiest of lights cannot dim our passion — year after year, we persist, forging a bond with our audience through relentless performance!"
"Applause!" As Ben Ben projected footage of their work, a cacophony of clinking sounded from the assembled bronzes and ceramics.
Bathed in this resounding ovation, Guo Guo drew a deep breath, tears brimming as he gazed reverently at the sky.
In that moment, the hearts of every exhibit in the room were stirred; they felt spiritually cleansed, as if reborn.
"Keep it humble! Remain humble!" Seeing the Mutton-Fat Jade Bottle weeping uncontrollably, Guo Guo modestly signaled for silence before resuming, "Next, all performances must be well-equipped with props. Selecting the right tools is key — remember, they must be handy, agile, and effective both as weapons and psychological deterrents."
"No to the meteor hammer. No to the spiked mace." Guo Guo solemnly rejected each weapon the Four-Rams Square Vessel offered. "Hunting knives or small firearms are viable options. Wooden sticks and steel pipes are also commonplace... Naturally, we can consider descending from above or leveraging Che Che's speed advantage."
"Understood!" Stealing a glance at the preening Che Che, the group of exhibits nodded in earnest.
Guo Guo beamed at their diligence, then continued, "Lastly, during the actual performance, audience interaction is crucial — it's a true test of our improvisational prowess!"
As he spoke, Ben Ben swiftly opened a spreadsheet—rows and columns teeming with notes summarizing thirty-six types of victim reactions, each matched with seventy-two appropriate linguistic and behavioral responses from the performers.
Gesturing at the screen, Guo Guo explained with a wobble, "Observe closely! In most scenarios, we should remain polite — for example, say 'Brother, I'm a bit tight on cash, would you be so kind as to help me out?' But if faced with resistance, our tone must change — 'Don't move, or I'll mess you up!'"
"There's more! The approach differs with female audiences, especially the attractive ones!" Nuo Nuo chimed in, turning to the relics. "Bottle, tell us — how should we address a female participant?"
"Well... is it something like — 'Sweetheart, one more move and I'll slice up that pretty face, got it?'" the Mutton-Fat Jade Bottle stammered after a moment's hesitation.
"Excellent! Truly outstanding!" Guo Guo exclaimed, eyes alight with joy. "Bottle, you've surpassed your mentor. I await your performance eagerly!"
Moved to tears by this praise, the bottle sobbed uncontrollably, desperate to prove himself on the stage.
"What good is theory alone?" The Four-Rams Square Vessel grumbled, evidently envious. "Modern education produces nothing but talkers. It is through practice that true knowledge emerges!"
"Exactly! That brings us to phase two of the plan." Guo Guo nodded, peering beyond the wall. "Notice that fool still searching for his backpack? We'll rob him again — but first, let's see what treasures lie inside."
As he spoke, Nuo Nuo had already emptied the bag's contents.
Staring at dozens of smooth metal spheres, the collective of criminal artistes looked at one another, all silently wondering how such things could relate to wealth.
After a long, puzzled silence, the Four-Rams Square Vessel couldn't hold back: "Boss, what are these supposed to be for?"
"Fools! Don't you even know that?" Truthfully, Guo Guo had no idea either, but facing his subordinates, he had to improvise. "Obviously, these are... uh... new-age fireworks! They'll set the mood for the carnival later on!"
"Brilliant as ever, Boss!" The relics gazed at him with reverent awe, bowing low in worship.
With noble humility, Guo Guo nodded sagely. "It's nothing — all just experience from years of work. With diligent study, you'll master it too. Now, let's plan our encore: this time, you will direct, act, and produce — the target, strip that sucker down to his last pair of boxers!"
"Achoo!" Outside the wall, Ryan suddenly sneezed, overtaken by a terrible premonition.
Glancing at a nearby elderly woman, he muttered bitterly, "Damn it! Gave me ten bucks and said she had no change... told me to vomit again if I wanted more... tsk!"
About to spit once more, Ryan caught sight of the woman's glowering stare and forced himself to swallow it back.
Unwilling to linger, he slipped into the amusement park through a quiet corner and dialed his phone. "Boss, I've made it inside... Yes, everything's fine. Just one thing... No, nothing important — I'll get the job done."
He had intended to complain, but upon hearing Thomas's approval, Ryan held back.
He knew better — admitting he'd been robbed would not only incur his boss's wrath, but also bring mockery from his peers. After all, he'd just boasted of his skills and dissed Yank and the others.
"Damn it, I'm getting that backpack back!" he growled through clenched teeth, though all he could do now was curse.
There was no telling if the thief had already fled. Even if not, how could he possibly locate him?
His only hope lay in the chance that the thief found the contents worthless and discarded the bag somewhere. Then maybe... wait — what's that girl holding?
As he scratched his head in frustration, Ryan's eyes locked onto a little girl in a pink dress, clutching something in her hand.
Within two seconds, he recognized it — the silver ornament from his backpack. Which meant the girl had likely found the bag... and perhaps everything inside it.
"Oh Lord, You are truly merciful and great!" he whispered in awe and rushed over.
Seeing his eager expression, the little girl backed away in fright, preparing to flee.
But Ryan wasn't about to let her escape. He spread his arms to block her path — only for her to suddenly scream, "No! No! Mister, I don't want your candy!"
"Candy?" Her cry rang out across the park, and within moments, dozens of tourists turned to look, expressions of sudden understanding dawning on their faces.
Seconds later, a group of muscle-bound men spat in disgust and began advancing.
What the hell?! Sure, little lolis are adorable — but Chinese beauties are ours. Since when do foreigners get a slice?
"Uh... this is a misunderstanding!" Ryan stammered, watching fists waving before his face. He wiped his sweat nervously. China was proving to be far more perilous than expected.
Trying to calm the situation, he turned to the girl with a forced smile and asked sweetly, "Little one, can you tell me where you found that trinket?"
"Umm... in that corner over there!" she chirped, blinking innocently. "There were dozens of little balls too, but they were too heavy — Xun'er couldn't carry them!"
"Really? Which corner?" Ryan lit up, bending down excitedly. "Good girl! Would you take me there? I'll buy you some candy, how about that?"
"I don't want candy!" she replied, shaking her head with a childish lilt. "Daddy says you shouldn't expect rewards for doing good deeds!"
"What a sweet girl!" Tears welled in Ryan's eyes as he silently thanked the father who had raised such a virtuous child.
But just as he was moved, the girl tilted her head and added innocently, "But Daddy also said, even if we don't ask for a reward, if someone cries and begs to give us money, we're allowed to accept it... Uncle, will you cry and beg to buy us something?"
"Er..." Ryan's face twisted with despair. He silently withdrew his praise of that father.
Still, he had no choice — and the bomb expert gritted his teeth as he pulled out his wallet. "Alright... how much do you want? Will fifty yuan do?"
"Xun'er doesn't want money!" she said, not even glancing at the bill.
Instead, she tapped her chin, thought for a moment, then clapped gleefully. "I want ice cream! Fifty cones of it! Huh? Uncle, you don't look well... Don't worry, if you really insist on buying them for me, I'll let you!"