135: Chapter 135 The US President: This script isn't right!

Washington, The White House underground operations room.

This was the core of power for the Eagle, and the terminal where intelligence from this planet converged. In daily life, every order issued from here could cause a regime change in a small country or have a fleet blockade a sea area.

But at this moment, it was as quiet as a morgue.

The giant tactical main screen on the wall, which should have displayed the global military deployment map, now only showed one image—

It was the real-time footage transmitted back from the military reconnaissance satellite "Keyhole-12".

In the image, that silver-white giant warship was hovering above Tianhai City, like the vehicle of a god. And beneath it were the city building complexes, tiny as ants.

"Clatter."

The Secretary of Defense's lighter dropped.

This tough guy who was usually known as the "leader of the hawks" was currently trembling as he tried to pick up the lighter, but failed three times.

"Is it confirmed?"

The President slumped in that leather chair symbolizing world hegemony, his voice as weak as if he had just undergone major surgery.

His eyes were hollow, staring fixedly at the big guy on the screen that violated all common sense of physics, his knuckles turning white from gripping the armrests:

"Tell me this is a special effect."

"Tell me this is a Hollywood blockbuster played for us by hackers from the Dragon Country who hacked our satellites."

"I beg you, tell me this is fake."

The Secretary of Defense finally gave up on the lighter.

He stood up, leaning on the table, his face as pale as paper, holding a freshly printed intelligence brief that was still warm, his tone desperate:

"Mr. President... I really want to lie to you."

"But unfortunately, this is real."

"Our three optical satellites, two infrared satellites, and a nuclear submarine deployed in the East Sea have all captured this target simultaneously."

"It is right there."

"It truly exists, it has mass, it has volume, and even..."

The Secretary of Defense swallowed and pointed to a set of impossibly smooth data curves on the screen:

"It even has no thermal radiation."

"No jet exhaust, no vibration from turbofan engines. This means the propulsion system it uses is something we have only seen in theoretical physics papers—"

"Anti-gravity Engine."

Boom—!

These last five words completely shattered the last shred of luck in The President's heart.

Anti-gravity.

These three words represented more than just a technology; they represented the end of one era and the crushing dominance of another.

"This script isn't right..."

The President suddenly laughed nervously, his laughter dry and shrill.

He jumped up from the chair, grabbed the document on the table, and slammed it to the ground, roaring like a child whose candy had been stolen:

"Who the hell wrote this script?!"

"We are still worrying about the engine materials for the sixth-generation aircraft! Still feeling complacent about whether we can transport those few grams of Helium-3 back from the moon!"

"And what about the result?"

He pointed at the warship on the screen that was enough to block out the sun, his fingers trembling:

"They just drove an interstellar warship out?!"

"It's like everyone is playing 'Civilization VI', just researching gunpowder technology, and the neighbor next door builds a Death Star?!"

"How the hell are we supposed to play now!"

The President clutched his head with both hands, pacing back and forth in the narrow corridor, his steps chaotic:

"I can't figure it out! I really can't figure it out!"

"Is God a member of the Dragon Country's Communist Party? Why does all the black technology appear over there? Photonic Chip is one thing, but now even Anti-gravity has been created?"

"What's next? Curvature Engine? Two-way Foil? Or just packing up the Solar System and taking it away?"

Looking at The President on the verge of collapse, none of the high-ranking officials in the room dared to speak.

Because they had collapsed too.

This feeling was like you holding a stone axe ready to go hunting, only to go out and see the people in the neighboring tribe driving Gundams to farm.

That kind of despair is carved into one's genes.

"Mr. President..."

A gray-haired nuclear weapons expert raised his hand tremblingly and asked tentatively:

"How about... we launch the 'nuclear triad' strike procedure?"

"Although its technology is very advanced, it is still a physical entity after all. If we concentrate all our intercontinental missiles and conduct a saturation strike..."

"Shut up! You idiot!"

The President turned around abruptly and sprayed spit all over the expert's face:

"Nuclear strike? Strike whom? Strike that big guy?"

"Didn't you read the previous report? Jiang Chen can paralyze an aircraft carrier with a fishing rod! Do you think this five-hundred-meter-long warship won't have energy shields? Won't have point defense systems?"

He pointed to the secondary guns on the side of the warship on the screen, which, although not charged, were still ferocious and terrifying:

"Look at that caliber! That's a laser cannon! A particle cannon!"

"Before our missiles even leave the atmosphere, they'll probably be swatted away like flies!"

"Besides..."

The President took a deep breath and sat back in his chair dejectedly, looking as if he had instantly aged ten years:

"Even if we could hit it, so what?"

"It's hovering over Tianhai City, where there are twenty million people! If we drop a nuclear bomb, that would be declaring war on all of humanity."

"What's more..."

"What if we don't destroy it, but instead provoke it."

The President raised his head, his eyes full of fear of the unknown:

"It just needs to adjust its muzzle slightly and fire one shot at Washington."

"And we are really... finished."

A sense of powerlessness.

A deep sense of powerlessness enveloped the entire operations room.

The once-proud nuclear arsenal, the once-rampageous aircraft carrier fleet, appeared so pale and ridiculous in front of this monster from the sea of stars.

At this moment, the Eagle finally understood what it meant to be—dimensionality reduction strike.

"Then... what should we do now?"

The Secretary of State wiped his cold sweat, his voice weak, "How about... send another negotiation team? Withdraw the previous sanctions? Pay some compensation?"

"Pay compensation?"

The President laughed miserably, "They have Anti-gravity now, do you think they would care about that waste paper we print?"

Just when this group of the most powerful people on Earth was at a loss like headless flies.

"Buzz—"

An abrupt, crisp electronic notification sound suddenly rang out in the dead-silent operations room.

Everyone was startled and instinctively looked at the source of the sound.

It was the big screen.

The main screen, which had been displaying satellite surveillance footage, suddenly flickered.

Immediately after, a huge video call request window with the Dragon Country's "Chenxing Technology" logo popped out, extremely domineering, covering all tactical data.

And in the requester column, there was a name that made everyone present terrified:

**[ Jiang Chen (Jiang Chen) ]**

"He... he called?"

The Secretary of Defense stepped back in fear, the cup in his hand shattered with a "crash", "What does he want to do? Is he here to declare war? Is he here to issue an ultimatum?"

The President stared at the green answer button that kept jumping, feeling like it was a bomb trigger about to be detonated.

Answer?

Or not?

Not answering is a sign of weakness, an escape.

If he answers, what if the other party starts by saying "I want to take over the Earth"? How should he reply?

"Hoo... hoo..."

The President breathed heavily, straightened his messy tie, and grabbed the comb on the table to messily comb his iconic blonde hair.

In any case, even if we lose, we can't lose our composure.

"Connect."

He gritted his teeth and squeezed out two words, "Let me see what this young man, who is playing with the world in the palm of his hand, really wants to say."

"Zzz—"

The signal connected.

The picture became clear instantly.

However.

The high-and-mighty, arrogant, alien-governor-like face of Jiang Chen that they had expected did not appear.

On the screen.

Jiang Chen was sitting in the spacious and bright command room of the warship, and in his hand...

He was actually holding a skewer of grilled lamb?

He chewed the meat while waving at the camera, with that kind of harmless smile that made people both familiar and wanting to hit him:

"Yo, everyone is here?"

"Mr. The President, you look good."

Jiang Chen swallowed the meat in his mouth, picked up the iced cola next to him and took a sip, his tone as relaxed as if he were greeting a neighbor:

"Don't be nervous, don't be nervous."

"I see your satellites are about to stare sparks out of my ship."

"So I specifically made a call to explain it to you."

He pointed to the interstellar warship under his feet that was enough to destroy a country, and said sincerely:

"Actually, this is a misunderstanding."

"Although this thing looks a bit big and looks a bit fierce."

"But in essence..."

Jiang Chen paused and showed a bright smile:

"It really is just a..."

"Slightly larger—drone."

"The civilian kind."