Chapter 96 The Final Countdown

24 hours.

For the uncle selling pancakes on the street, or the white-collar worker coding in an office building, this was nothing more than one rotation of the Earth, a cycle of sunrise and sunset.

But for this blue planet at this moment, this rotation felt as heavy as dragging a rusty iron chain.

Every tick of the second hand felt like a sharp blade slicing across everyone's taut nerves.

At the New York Stock Exchange, the waterfall of red and green numbers had turned into a desperate, blood-red hue. The Dow Jones Industrial Average plummeted into the abyss like a kite with a broken string. Those usually well-dressed Wall Street elites now had crooked ties, roaring as they dumped all their holdings, as if they were no longer money, but scorching branding irons.

Capital is the most sensitive mouse; it smelled the scent of gunpowder and was frantically fleeing East Asia, fleeing the Western Pacific, fleeing any place that might become scorched earth.

Over the Western Pacific, countless reconnaissance satellites adjusted their orbits, zooming their lenses to the limit, staring fixedly at those waters. Electronic signals wove an airtight net in the stratosphere, and every pulse of radar waves made the hearts of The Pentagon and the Kremlin skip a beat.

All of humanity was tied to a runaway chariot, and that red countdown was the Sword of Damocles hanging over their heads.

...

Within the territory of Daxia.

Anger.

This was more than just an emotion; it had become a physical entity, a hot, sulfurous scent in the air.

Internet servers were groaning as hundreds of millions of characters converged into a torrent of steel.

"So they've put a blade to our necks? Is this an ultimatum? This is a declaration of war!"

"I just bought a house, just got married, haven't even had a kid yet. But I'll say this: as soon as the order comes from above, I'm heading to the armed forces department to get a gun! I'll fight those bandits to the death!"

"Coordinates: a university in the southwest. All the boys in the class just signed a joint petition to fight. The counselor was crying while stamping it for us. Nothing more to say: Daxia people don't have the habit of living on their knees!"

That day, the entrances to armed forces departments everywhere were packed solid. Those graying veterans dug out their old uniforms from the bottom of their chests; even if the buttons couldn't fasten over their paunchy bellies, they still stood as straight as javelins, slamming their yellowed discharge papers onto the tables.

On the streets, the national flag was a sea of red. Young students, hunched old men, and hurried office workers—there was no fear in their eyes, only a near-stubborn tenacity.

This was the mettle carved into their bones over five thousand years; once ignited, even magma would have to give way.

However, it was completely different from the high-pressure cooker about to explode outside.

The Great Northwest.

Deep in the Gobi Desert, eight hundred meters underground.

It was so quiet here that one could only hear the faint hum of current flowing through cables.

No slogans, no angry roars. Thousands of technicians in anti-static suits were turning silently at their posts like precise gears.

This kind of silence was called "killing intent."

Inside the massive underground dock, the lights on the dome illuminated the place as bright as day.

That pitch-black giant ship lay quietly on the alloy ship cradle.

Four hundred and eighty-eight meters.

This was not a simple number. When it transformed into a physical steel behemoth looming before you, the visual impact was enough to render one speechless. The streamlined hull reflected a cold, chilling light; it didn't look like an industrial creation, but more like a black phoenix from ancient mythology that had just awakened.

It was called "luan bird."

"Main engine fusion core temperature stable, magnetic confinement field output at 100%."

"'Kunpeng' jump engine preheating complete, space curvature stabilizer locked."

"Heavy particle cannon charging complete, fire control radar successfully networked with the space-based satellite chain."

"Hull stress sensors all green, structural integrity overflowing."

Academician Wang stood before the main control console, clutching the fountain pen he had used for who knows how many years so tightly that his knuckles turned white. In his bloodshot eyes, a crazy flame was dancing.

This was not an experiment. This was the first roar of this monster.

"luan bird one," bridge.

Lin Yuan sat in the command chair, his fingers gently stroking the cold metallic sensation of the armrest.

The deep blue captain's uniform neatly wrapped around his tall, straight frame, and the luan bird totem embroidered in gold thread on his epaulets shone brilliantly under the lights.

This was no ordinary fabric; this was his battle robe.

"Report, Captain."

Li Na's voice came through the bone conduction headset, crisp and capable, without a hint of tremor, "All twelve battle stations on the ship are fully manned. Life support systems are normal, weapon systems unlocked. We... are ready."

Lin Yuan nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the row of holographic projection screens in front of him.

For the past few months, it felt like he had been thrown into a meat grinder. From morning till night, his brain was stuffed with ballistic calculations, fleet formations, and interstellar navigation protocols. The little boss who once only knew how to calculate the price of scrap metal had been forged into a drawn blade by those injections of genetic serum and countless sleepless nights.

He looked at the red number in the corner of the main screen.

Three minutes left.

A curve formed at the corner of Lin Yuan's mouth; it was not nervousness, but the pleasure of a hunter seeing his prey fall into a trap.

He twisted his neck, and his cervical spine emitted a series of crisp, bean-popping sounds.

"Finally, no need to endure it anymore."

He muttered to himself, a hint of violence flashing in his eyes, "I hope those guys have strong hearts and don't wet their pants from being scared by this big bird."

...

Underground Command Center.

Chen Weiguo sat alone in front of that massive tactical screen.

On the screen, the red light dots representing the Eagle Sauce carrier strike group were dense, like a school of bloodthirsty piranhas, baring their fangs and biting toward the East Sea.

But he didn't look at those.

He lowered his head, holding a piece of white cloth in his hand, carefully wiping an old-fashioned Type 92 pistol.

The smell of gun oil entered his nostrils; it was the scent he was most familiar with, one that could calm a person's heart.

This gun had been with him for thirty years; the rifling in the barrel was almost worn smooth, but he still maintained it until it was as bright as new.

"50..."

"49..."

On the broadcast, a synthesized electronic voice began to announce the final countdown. The voice had no emotional color, cold as a scalpel, slicing through the texture of time bit by bit.

Chen Weiguo's hand movements did not stop.

"10..."

He finished the last wipe, folded the white cloth, and placed it on the corner of the table.

"9..."

With a "click," the magazine was pushed in, and a round was chambered.

Chen Weiguo slowly stood up and holstered the gun back at his waist. His back, which had originally been slightly hunched, straightened up at this moment like a towering mountain.

He raised his head and looked at the screen. There were no ripples in his eyes, only bottomless black.

"3..."

"2..."

"1..."

Zero.

The screen flickered for a moment and switched to the live broadcast signal of the allied fleet's flagship.

That five-star general, with the arrogance and sinister grin typical of a victor on his face, spread his hands toward the camera.

"Time is up."

"It seems our Eastern friends have chosen to preserve their pitiful self-esteem."

"Since that is the case..."

The general's eyes suddenly became fierce, like a beast that had finally torn off its disguise.

"Orders! First attack wave, initiate!"

"Target: Daxia's eastern coastline, all frontline radar positions!"

"Fire!!"

Following his roar, the live broadcast switched to the destroyer's deck.

Thick smoke billowed, and flames shot into the sky.

Hundreds of "Tomahawk" cruise missiles soared from the vertical launch silos, dragging long white exhaust trails like the claws of death, tearing through the sky over the Western Pacific, and whistling as they flew westward!

At this moment, billions of viewers around the world felt their hearts stop.

It's over.

The war had truly begun.

Those missiles only needed twenty minutes to turn the targets into ruins.

However.

Just as this suffocating despair was beginning to spread.

An anomaly suddenly occurred!

"Rumble—"

A dull, massive sound exploded without warning deep within Daxia's interior.

This sound didn't seem like an explosion, but more like a heartbeat coming from deep within the earth—heavy, sonorous, and carrying a terrifying frequency that made even the earth's crust tremble.

People watching the live broadcast even felt the mobile phones in their hands and the computer screens in front of them shaking violently.

Immediately after, satellite imagery captured a shocking scene.

The Great Northwest.

On that ancient, desolate Gobi Desert, a rolling mountain range had actually... split open!

The previously continuous ridge seemed to have been forcibly pried open by an invisible giant hand. It wasn't a collapse; it was precise mechanical movement!

Millions of tons of rock and soil slid to the sides amidst the roar of massive hydraulics, revealing a bottomless, dark abyss below.

Massive dust clouds rose into the air, obscuring the sunlight.

And in the deepest part of that dust, an extremely dazzling blue beam of light suddenly pierced the sky!

Immediately after, a black shadow, so massive it was suffocating, slowly rose from that abyss amidst a deafening roar of engines.

That was a spine forged of steel.

That was the fury ignited by civilization.

That was...

"The dragon... raises its head!"

In front of countless screens, countless pairs of eyes stared fixedly at the black behemoth breaking through the dust and descending upon the world, and only these three words remained in their minds.