"You...!" In an instant, Chris Brooks felt as if struck by lightning. He scrutinized Mr. Sullivan from head to toe, really wanting to ask, 'Where did you time travel from? Do you even know who won the World Cup this year?'

In his previous life, he had browsed forums and learned about a super big shot who never actually got a degree, yet brazenly claimed to be a PhD from Columbia University. This guy swaggered back to China with a fake diploma, scamming his way up until he became a towering figure in the cultural world. When Columbia University heard about it, they had no choice but to go along and retroactively awarded him a doctorate, just to save face.

As a native of the mid-14th century, for Mr. Sullivan to master, all on his own, the signature move of a certain early 20th-century cultural giant—how could Chris Brooks not look at him with new eyes? Yet, while the ideal is rich, reality is painfully thin. That so-called master may have had a fake Columbia PhD, but he did have some real substance. Later, in the early 20th-century Chinese cultural scene, he did make a name for himself. But as for himself, what did he have in his head besides grinding levels and fighting monsters?

Relying on these hangers-on in the yamen, basically the equivalent of 21st-century city management officers—temporary workers at that—he wanted to build an army of ten thousand and carve out his own territory? Dream on! If he wanted to become a regional warlord, where were his own soldiers? Where was his own, uh, military provisions? Where was his own pay for the troops? Even if he could conjure up all three, recruiting soldiers right under Sesame Li's nose was just asking for trouble!

"Sir, you might not know yet, but you are now the Left Army Commander of the Red Turban Army's Xuzhou Governor's Office, and you can freely recruit your own troops!" Seeing Chris Brooks's face change repeatedly, never settling, Mr. Sullivan leaned in again and reported in a low voice.

Chapter 009: Cause and Effect

"Clang!" A giant meat pie, still covered in ice, fell from the sky and knocked Chris Brooks flat to the ground.

This news hit him even harder than Mr. Sullivan's bad breath. He immediately stiffened, his eyes bulging like cowbells as he pressed, "Left Army Commander? When did I become the Left Army Commander? How come I didn't know!"

"This morning, just this morning. Last night, you were possessed by Maitreya and fainted from exhaustion. I followed your orders to protect the neighborhood and suppress the routed soldiers. We carved out a peaceful area in the city. Then, according to your instructions, I offered several wards to Sesame Li, Director Li. Director Li was very pleased, publicly praised our Dazhi Hall, and granted you this residence. Not long after, he sent the Front Army Commander Mao Gui and a physician to visit you. Right there, they left a document appointing you as Left Army Commander and a big golden seal. He also said, he also said you should take your time to recover and not rush to report to Director Li. Once you’re well, just make a brief appearance at the Governor's Office!" As Mr. Sullivan spoke, he trotted to the cabinet by the wall, carefully took out a sheet of paper and a large, gleaming golden seal, and presented them to Chris Brooks with both hands.

"Wait, wait! Don't say so much at once, I need a moment!" Chris Brooks shoved Mr. Sullivan hard, feeling another wave of dizziness.

Sesame Li's people didn't suspect a thing, and even sent a trusted general to check on him while he was unconscious! And they made him Left Army Commander! Even if it was just a hastily invented position, and the seal looked like it was carved from wood with a thin layer of gold paint, it still amounted to official recognition of his status as a rebel leader. Even if they wanted to settle the score for "stealing the kill" this morning, it would be hard to turn on him openly now!

But what did he have to be this Left Army Commander?! No connections, no prestige, and as for military strategy—he was a 21st-century homebody who spent all day on forums and playing games, what would he do with military texts?! If he wanted to show off, he might as well read Eileen Chang or Teresa Teng, at least that would impress middle school girls.

More importantly, in his limited knowledge of history, he couldn't even find anyone named Sesame Li. Clearly, this person was either wiped out by the Yuan army or killed early in infighting among the rebels. Serving as Left Army Commander under him probably wouldn't end well either!

What if he defected to Zhu Yuanzhang? At least he could become a founding hero. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration crossed his mind, and Chris Brooks's face lit up with wild joy. But that joy was quickly drowned by a flood of cold reality. From what little "historical knowledge" he’d picked up from martial arts novels and pulp fiction, Zhu Yuanzhang was not someone you could share glory with. He once forced the founding Grand Marshal Xu Da to death with a steamed goose, then lured the other generals to a celebration and blew them all sky-high. Would following him end any better than following Sesame Li?! (Note 1)

"General Mao, General Mao also said..." Seeing that Chris Brooks had been silent for a long time, Mr. Sullivan edged several steps away, then cautiously added.

"Shut up, don't say another word! Just answer me, what's the current era name? Who is the emperor?" Chris Brooks waved his hand, asking abruptly.