Hijacking the Three Kingdoms with My System

Chapter 4: The Three Brothers and the Deranged Advisor

The journey to Liu Bei’s camp was physical torture for Jo Fan.

Every ten steps, his head throbbed painfully, as if a construction worker were drilling into his skull from the inside. This was the System’s "tax." Giving Zhang Fei those fries earlier had drained his Mana, or in the System’s terms: Mental Calories.

"You look like death warmed over, Master Strategist," Guan Yu commented flatly. He walked upright, stroking his long beard, his steps light, as if the iron armor on his body were made of cotton. "We’ve only walked two *li* (about 1 km), and your breathing sounds like an old water buffalo."

"This isn't fatigue, General Guan," Jo Fan replied, panting, trying to maintain his dignity even as cold sweat soaked his back. "This... my brain is processing millions of future calculations. The weight of my thoughts is heavier than your Guandao."

Zhang Fei snorted roughly from behind, still licking the leftover salt from his fingers. "Nonsense. You're just weak. If it weren't for those tasty fries, I'd have left you in a ditch."

They finally reached their destination.

Jo Fan expected to see military barracks. At least a platoon tent or a wooden fence. But reality slapped him again.

"This is your headquarters?" Jo Fan gaped.

In front of them, in a clearing surrounded by bushes, stood two cloth tents that looked more like discarded laundry lines. The fabric was covered in mismatched, colorful patches. Beside the tents was a wooden cart piled high with Liu Bei’s merchandise: woven straw sandals. An old horse whose ribs jutted out was chewing dry grass with a look of profound depression.

Total troops? Zero. Just the four of them.

"Our volunteer troops are currently... on leave," Liu Bei said awkwardly, his face slightly flushed. "Actually, they went home because I ran out of grain to pay them last month."

Jo Fan rubbed his temples. "So, our current military assets are: Two war monsters, one charismatic but broke leader, one depressed horse, and me... a starving college dropout."

"What is a 'D-O'?" Zhang Fei asked.

"It stands for 'Deity of Intellect'," Jo Fan lied quickly. He walked toward a rotting log near the remnants of a campfire and sat down limply. "Okay, gentlemen. Before we talk about conquering the world, can we be realistic? You are poor. Extremely poor. Even rats would refuse to steal here."

Guan Yu plunged his massive spear into the ground with a heavy *THUD*. He was offended. "Poverty is merely a test for the virtuous. We have ambition and loyalty to the Han Dynasty. That is our main capital."

"Ambition isn't edible, General," Jo Fan countered, picking up a twig and starting to draw in the dirt. "The System... I mean, my observation tells me you need logistics. Money. Food. And most importantly, reputation."

Suddenly, Jo Fan's vision blurred for a moment.

[SYSTEM WARNING: THREAT DETECTED]

[Danger Radar Active (Duration: 5 Minutes). Cost: 50 Calories.]

A minimap hologram appeared in the corner of Jo Fan's right eye. On the display, he saw three green dots (the four of them) surrounded by the darkness of the forest. But to the southeast, about 500 meters away, a cluster of red dots appeared.

Many of them. About twenty dots. And they were moving quickly toward the camp.

Jo Fan straightened his back. His drowsiness and fatigue vanished instantly, replaced by pure adrenaline.

"Put out the fire," Jo Fan said suddenly. His voice was cold, devoid of any joking tone.

"Huh?" Zhang Fei glared. "Why? It's getting cold! I need the fire to warm up!"

"We have uninvited guests. About twenty of them. They smell foul, like blood and murderous intent," Jo Fan lied about the smell, but he couldn't explain the radar. He pointed to the southeast. "They are coming from behind that small hill. Remnants of the Yellow Turban Bandits. They are after the horse and your woven supplies, Master Liu."

Liu Bei stared at Jo Fan. He searched for signs of deceit in the young foreigner's eyes. But all he saw were focused, narrowed pupils and hands that trembled slightly, not from fear, but from tension.

"Third Brother, put out the fire," Liu Bei ordered sternly.

"But Elder Brother! This kid must just be paranoid!" Zhang Fei protested. "The forest is silent! No owl sounds means it's safe!"

"That's exactly why you're wrong, you fool!" Jo Fan snapped, his patience exhausted. Hunger made him emotional. "No bird sounds means something has scared them off! Listen, Master Zhang. If I'm wrong, you can feed me to the tigers tomorrow morning. But if I'm right and you don't move now, we'll all die like fools, stabbed in our sleep!"

Zhang Fei fell silent. He didn't like being yelled at, but Jo Fan's argument made sense. With a long grunt, he stomped on the campfire until it was extinguished. Darkness enveloped the camp.

"Now what, Master Strategist?" Guan Yu whispered, his voice like the hiss of a viper. His hand was already gripping the hilt of the sword at his waist.

Jo Fan swallowed hard. This was it. His first moment as the team's brain.

"They think we're sleeping in the tents. The tents are soft targets," Jo Fan pointed to a large rock formation about 30 meters to the left of the tents. "We move behind those rocks. Leave the tents empty. While they're busy stabbing empty cloth... you hit them from behind. Their backsides will be exposed."

"Cunning!" Guan Yu commented. There was a hint of praise in his tone.

"Efficient!" Jo Fan corrected.

The four of them crawled silently behind the rocks. Liu Bei turned out to be very good at moving without a sound, while Zhang Fei, despite his size, moved as agilely as a giant cat. Jo Fan? He struggled desperately to hold back his wheezing breath.

Five minutes passed. Silence.

Zhang Fei began to fidget. He nudged Jo Fan's ribs. "Where are they? There's no one here. Are you tricking us? My hands are itching to snap someone's neck, and if there are no enemies, yours will be the one...."

CRACK.

The sound of a snapped twig was clearly audible from the southeast.

Zhang Fei instantly fell silent. His eyes widened, staring toward the forest.

From the darkness, hunched shadows emerged. They wore dull yellow cloth headbands. Their faces were covered in dust, their teeth black. Their weapons varied: rusty machetes, bamboo spears, and wooden clubs studded with nails.

"That's the tent..." one bandit whispered. "The Mat Seller is inside. Kill him, take his horse. Horse meat is good."

"Charge!"

Without warning, the twenty bandits ran toward the tents.

"DIE, YOU POOR NOBLE!"

They brutally thrust their spears and machetes into the cloth tents. *Crass! Crass!* The fabric ripped, the support poles snapped. They stabbed the air and empty blankets with terrifying murderous intent.

Behind the rock, Jo Fan's face was chalk white.

If he hadn't told them to move, his body would now be human satay. The reality of violence in this era made his stomach churn. This wasn't a movie. The sound of ripping cloth and the snorts of murderous lust were too real.

"Now?" Guan Yu asked. His eyes were half-closed, but his murderous aura was leaking out, making the air feel cold.

Jo Fan nodded stiffly. "Wipe them out. Leave one alive if possible, for interrogation. The rest... send them to hell."

"AFFIRMATIVE!"