840: Chapter 835 The items are still there

Shen Yan nodded and stepped out into the rain.

Chen Guangke followed behind, muttering an insult under his breath.

"These vampires, two thousand Euros just for the entrance fee?"

"That's what they call a threshold."

Shen Yan didn't stop walking.

"If just anyone could get in, the thing we're looking for would have been gone long ago."

The coordinates given by the system were precise.

Zone C, Row 7, Ground Level.

The two of them navigated the maze-like alleys of shipping containers.

Rain hammered against the metal boxes, creating a pattering sound that masked their footsteps.

Ten minutes later.

Shen Yan stopped.

In front of him was a dark red shipping container, its paint peeling to reveal rusted metal underneath.

A white number was spray-painted on the side: CN-779.

Just as the intelligence suggested, this was a forgotten junk container.

Chen Guangke leaned closer and shone his phone's flashlight on the seal.

"Brother Yan, the seal looks pretty new."

It was indeed new.

Although it had been artificially aged, the glue residue on the edges hadn't fully dried.

Someone had tampered with it.

Shen Yan's heart sank.

Could they be too late?

He reached out, his fingertips brushing against the cold metal skin.

【Consume 10 Wealth Points to activate Material X-ray Scan (Single Use)】

There was no such prompt in his mind.

This frustrating system meant he still had to rely on himself at the crucial moment.

Shen Yan closed his eyes, mobilizing every detail he knew about the "advanced wealth intelligence."

Alan Turing, the genius known as the "Ghost of Silicon Valley."

He was inherently suspicious and would never leave the item simply inside a box.

If he had, it would have been lost long ago during customs inspection or prior theft.

"A false bottom."

Shen Yan opened his eyes abruptly.

The intelligence mentioned an "internal layer."

He walked around the container once.

Finally, he stopped at the rear end of the container, near the bottom weld seam.

If one didn't look closely, this was just an ordinary reinforcing steel beam.

But Shen Yan squatted down and gently tapped the inner side of the beam with his finger.

Thud, thud.

The sound was dull. Moving three inches to the left.

Ding.

The sound changed.

It was crisper—the echo of a hollow space.

The corner of Shen Yan's mouth curved slightly upward.

The thing was still here.

Those who tampered with the seal probably opened the box, rummaged through the electronic waste inside, decided it held no value, and resealed it.

Or perhaps they took away the slightly more valuable discarded motherboards on the surface.

They kept the casket but discarded the pearl.

The real treasure was welded inside this steel beam.

"Let's go."

Shen Yan stood up and brushed the rust off his hands.

"Are you sure?"

Chen Guangke was somewhat bewildered; he hadn't noticed anything.

"Confirmed."

Shen Yan turned and headed back.

"Not only is the item here, but I also know how this game is supposed to be played now."

As long as the item remained, the next phase was a contest of money and means.

When they walked out of the port, the bald man was still smoking.

Seeing Shen Yan emerge, he blew out a smoke ring.

"Eight PM, Warehouse Number 3."

The bald man seemed to be doing a favor because of the thick envelope, adding one more line.

"Bring enough cash, or a check."

"Poor devils can't even breathe the air here."

Shen Yan didn't reply, merely giving a slight nod before returning to the car, where Old Zhang had already turned the heater to maximum.

"Back to the hotel."

Shen Yan leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes to rest.

"Guang Ke, have the people you contacted arrived?"

"They have."

Chen Guangke looked at his phone screen.

"The security team Ning Ke introduced, six men, all retired, and they brought their gear."

"They are already waiting at the hotel."

"Very good."

Shen Yan said calmly.

"Tell them tonight isn't about fighting."

"It's about moving a mountain of gold."

The night in Marseille was more dangerous than the day.

The rain had stopped, and the air was filled with a damp, musty smell.

Warehouse Number 3 was located on the edge of the port.

It had been converted into a temporary auction house.

Several high-powered spotlights illuminated the warehouse entrance as if it were daytime.

Luxury cars were gathered: Bentleys, rolls-royces, and several bulletproof-modified Hummers.

Anyone who obtained an invitation was no pushover.

Shen Yan had changed into a black suit, without a tie, his collar slightly open. He looked less like a businessman and more like a rich young master out for leisure.

Chen Guangke followed behind him, carrying a black briefcase.

The six bodyguards were positioned around the periphery of the crowd and did not enter.

It was too conspicuous to have them follow inside.

Security at the entrance was tight.

All electronic devices had to be surrendered.

Shen Yan tossed his phone onto the tray and casually picked up the numbered paddle: 88.

Quite an auspicious number.

The interior of the warehouse was vast, with a simple stage erected in the center.

Hundreds of folding chairs were arranged below.

The air was a mixture of expensive cigar smoke and cheap perfume.

Shen Yan found a seat in a corner.

His gaze swept across the entire venue without attracting attention.

Seated in the front row was a Middle Eastern man wearing a white robe, adorned with five rings on his hand, each dazzlingly bright.

Next to him sat a thin, pale old man wearing thick-lensed glasses, constantly wiping sweat with a handkerchief.

This must be the agent from Silicon Valley.

The "competitor" mentioned in the intelligence.

There was also a burly man in a leather jacket, a double-headed eagle tattooed on his neck, laughing loudly with the person beside him, speaking with an Eastern European accent.

"Brother Yan, that white-robed guy looks incredibly rich."

Chen Guangke lowered his voice.

"A collateral branch of a Middle Eastern royal family, made their fortune in oil."

Shen Yan said casually; this was a small bubble prompt that had just popped up from the system.

"What about the old man?"

"Robert Miller, a senior partner at a Silicon Valley venture capital firm, but behind him stands Intel's Technology Department."

That was the real formidable opponent.

The Eastern European man wasn't worth worrying about; he was likely here for potential contraband hidden within the shipping container.

Only Miller was here for the technology.

The auctioneer was a fat man in a tuxedo named Pierre.

He stood on the stage, his gavel banging resoundingly.

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

"Welcome to the 'Treasure Hunt Game' at the Port of Saint-Jean!"

"Tonight, we are auctioning off twenty unclaimed shipping containers."

"Everyone knows the rules: blind bidding."

"It might be a box of rotten wood, or it might be a box of gold."

"It's all up to God's mood!"

A burst of laughter rose from the audience.

The first few containers were indeed unremarkable.

Either moldy textiles or expired canned goods.

The winning bids were only around a few thousand Euros.

The burly Eastern European man won a container, opened it to find nothing but lingerie, and angrily kicked over his chair on the spot.

The atmosphere gradually heated up.

Everyone was waiting.

Waiting for the truly valuable 'blind boxes'.

"Lot Number Twelve!"

Pierre's voice rose a few octaves.

"Container Number CN-779!"

"Declared manifest: Scrap electronic components!"

"Starting bid: Ten thousand Euros!"

Here it was.

Shen Yan's posture remained unchanged; he didn't even lift an eyelid.

The venue quieted for a moment.

Electronic waste.

This meant it could contain precious metals like gold, silver, or copper.

For recyclers, this was hard currency.