112: Someone wants to be a fisherman.

Inside the Roman Palace office, Trump slammed the gold-embossed "Solid-State Lithium Energy Storage Battery Technology White Paper" onto the mahogany desk. As the pages scattered, several holographic projection photos floated in the air, showcasing the silver energy storage spheres displayed by Interstellar Peace Corporation.

"1.5 trillion credit points!" Trump's knuckles rapped the desk, making the liquid in his coffee cup ripple. "This order, casually thrown out by these corporate bigwigs, is one-third of our entire annual military budget!"

Minister of Defense Esper bent down to pick up the scattered documents, carefully avoiding the President's spitting saliva: "Mr. President, the technical and commercial departments' opinion is that we can use the technology they released to upgrade Militech's imitations—"

"Militech are traitors!" Trump grabbed his tablet and smashed it against the wall, the LCD screen shattering into a spiderweb pattern on the bulletproof glass. "They just want to become a Titan of my great New Union!"

Chief of Staff Kellyanne Conway cleared her throat and pulled up an encrypted file: "Mr. President, according to our analysis, Militech's product performance is only 50% of Interstellar Peace Corporation's, but the price is also considerably lower, which is enough to give them some advantage in the civilian market."

Trump suddenly fell silent, his plump fingers stroking his chin. This action made all the staff tense up—it usually meant the President was about to do something astonishing.

"Listen," he lowered his voice, leaning forward like a brown bear preparing to pounce, "I want two things: First, all companies involved in the production of solid-state lithium energy storage batteries must pass a White House security review; second..." His small eyes gleamed, "In practice, only companies on our team will be allowed to win bids."

Minister of Finance Mnuchin frowned: "Mr. President, this will trigger antitrust lawsuits..."

"National Security Exception Clause!" Trump grabbed a pen and scrawled his signature on the draft executive order, "Just say Militech's products have security risks!"

In the conference room at Militech headquarters in Lone Star State, the shadows of twelve directors twisted and distorted on the bulletproof glass.

CEO David Frank extinguished his cigar on the holographic projection, and the news footage of Trump signing the executive order immediately crackled.

"As you can all see," his gold-rimmed glasses reflected the neon of the projection, "the President plans to use an executive order to shut us down, so his benefactors can monopolize this pie."

James Locke, the director in charge of military industry, sneered: "We can file a lawsuit with the federal court..."

CFO William Vanderbilt suddenly slammed the table: "Don't be ridiculous! Lawsuits will just get stuck in the process forever! Unless we grovel to him, it's impossible!"

"It's useless. Even if we really give up enough profit to get a production license, we still can't compete with the Eastern Federation in the market," Chief Technology Officer Marian Morgan interrupted.

"Do you know what the Eastern Federation's industrial capacity was last year? Conservatively, it's twenty-five times ours! Even without executive order restrictions, we can't compete."

The conference room suddenly fell silent, with only the faint hum of the ventilation system.

"Calm down first," Marketing Director Lisa Koch gently stroked her pearl necklace, "Perhaps we should change our approach..."

Just then, Governor Bott of Lone Star State suddenly spoke: "Gentlemen, I have a bold idea."

He brought up a 3D map, and the global distribution of lithium mines pulsated like glowing green veins in the projection: "Instead of competing on end products, why not control the source?" His finger tapped lightly, and several red routes snaked between the mineral veins, "As long as we monopolize lithium mines..."

"Be more specific," Frank's interest was piqued, and he leaned forward, the leather chair creaking softly.

Bott showed a cunning smile: "My old friends in the Senate can push for a 'Strategic Resources Security Act'." He unfolded a draft, "Nominally, it's to ensure New Union's resource security in the space race, but in reality, heh heh."

"I get it! In reality, it's to have Trump step in to monopolize the global lithium mine trade!" Morgan suddenly slammed the table, her eyes flashing wildly, "Brilliant! Let that arrogant Trump be the villain!"

Bott nodded and smiled: "Exactly. According to my analysis, in the era of space travel, the strategic value of lithium mines will skyrocket tenfold or more." He brought up a set of forecast data, "After Trump sees these numbers, he will definitely pounce on this plan like a hungry wolf."

"Look at all his business decisions in his life. In 88% of cases, when faced with huge short-term profits, he will always choose the most aggressive option."

Low murmurs filled the conference room. Vanderbilt frowned: "But this will directly anger Interstellar Peace Corporation..."

"Isn't that even better?" Bott's finger drew an arc on the holographic map, "Given Trump's personality, once he knows that controlling lithium mines can give him leverage in negotiations with the Corporation, he will undoubtedly use administrative power to intervene in the international market, no matter what."

"Although New Union no longer has the military power to directly confront Interstellar Peace Corporation, the Corporation will not interfere with commercial activities. Look at the rare earth production in the Emerald Ocean region and the current international market; if the Corporation really wanted to, the pricing power for rare earths would already be in their hands."

"But if it were Trump, he would probably immediately..."

Koch suddenly chuckled: "Interstellar Peace Corporation hates monopolies that violate market rules the most..."

"Exactly!" Bott clapped his hands excitedly, "When the Corporation applies pressure, the Trump administration will inevitably bear the brunt. And we..." He looked around at everyone, "can take the opportunity to develop and reap the benefits."

Frank slowly took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with a silk handkerchief: "This plan has two key points." He put his glasses back on, the lenses reflecting a cold light, "First, we need to make Trump believe this is entirely his own idea; second, we need to ensure that Interstellar Peace Corporation's wrath is directed solely at the White House."

"Leave it to me," Bott showed a triumphant smile, "My old friend in the Ministry of Energy has already prepared an 'analysis report,' which will 'accidentally' appear on the President's breakfast table tomorrow."

Morgan suddenly burst out laughing: "It seems we can prepare to be the fishermen in an Eastern Federation story."

"Not only that," Vanderbilt quickly calculated, "If the plan goes smoothly, we can also acquire those companies sanctioned by the Corporation at a low price."

The atmosphere in the conference room suddenly grew lively.

Frank stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the city's night view: "Gentlemen, get ready." His reflection twisted and distorted on the glass, "This time, we're going to make the President work for us."

"Militech will certainly reach the summit of New Union."

The next day, in the Roman Palace war room, Trump slammed the Ministry of Energy's report onto the holographic sand table. The Central Roma Continent topographical map on the sand table rippled immediately, and the red dots of lithium mine distribution appeared like seeping blood.

"500 billion!" Trump's voice was hoarse with excitement, his finger almost piercing the holographic projection, "These drug dealers are sitting on so much money, and they still dare to sell drugs across our border!"

Minister of Defense Esper's Adam's apple bobbed: "Mr. President, according to the border patrol's report, there were no—"

"I don't care about last week!" Trump suddenly turned, his plump body knocking over a soda, "I want it now! Immediately! Right now!" His finger drew an attack route on the sand table, "Where's the fleet?"

The Chief of Staff quickly brought up the real-time deployment map: "An available carrier battle group is cruising in nearby waters, but international law stipulates—"

"To hell with international law!" Trump grabbed the communicator, "Connect me to the Joint Chiefs of Staff!" He turned to Esper, "You just said drug dealers attacked the patrol, right? How many died?"

Esper's forehead broke out in a cold sweat: "This... this, according to the border patrol's initial report, there was... uh, a patrol squad encountered an ambush..."

"Fantastic!" Trump's pupils dilated, "Say twenty died! No, fifty!" He grabbed the black phone, "I want a national television address!"

Lone Star State, Militech Headquarters.

Bott's whiskey glass suddenly tilted, and amber liquid spilled onto his hundred-thousand-dollar custom suit. In the holographic projection, Trump's flushed face filled the entire screen, with the Nova United States flag and the military command center as the background.

"...Just last night, drug traffickers in Central Roma Continent brutally massacred fifty of our brave border guards!" Trump's voice, amplified by the loudspeakers, vibrated the conference room's bulletproof glass. "These drug dealers disguise drugs as candy, poisoning our children! They build drug factories next to schools! They use drug money to buy weapons, threatening the security of the entire free world!"

Bott's fingertips dug deep into his palm, his knuckles white from the force: "This madman... I told him to monopolize lithium mines, not start a war!"

Morgan quickly called up satellite images, her tone very uneasy: "The Second Armored Division has begun to assemble... Oh my god, he's using tactical units!" She brought up real-time satellite images and confidential orders received by the military system.

"There are also orders to deploy special operations teams equipped with miniature nuclear warheads. Is he crazy?"

Frank suddenly felt short of breath and violently tore off his tie: "Immediately freeze all transactions related to Central Roma Continent! Notify our exploration team in the Helios Confederacy to withdraw immediately—"

In the projection, Trump's speech reached its climax: "...Today, I announce the launch of 'Operation Clean Dawn'! The Nova United States will reshape the order of Central Roma Continent, completely eradicating the largest drug-producing region on this blue planet!" His small eyes gleamed with fanaticism, "God bless New Union! God bless the free world!"

The conference room fell into a deathly silence. Bott suddenly let out a strange laugh, which sounded particularly harsh in the heavy air.

"Gentlemen," his voice trembled with excitement, "we may be witnessing history." He quickly walked to the holographic map, his finger tracing the border of Lone Star State, "Trump, this madman... he's given us a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

Frank frowned: "What opportunity? Now the whole plan is—"

"No, you don't understand!" Bott slammed the table, and the entire conference room suddenly fell silent.

"Don't forget, nearly 70% of the entire New Union army's combat readiness is provided by our Militech. In other words, whether Trump's plan succeeds is half up to us. To take down the Helios Confederacy, we must give our approval."

"Although the pharmaceutical, financial industries, and half of the energy companies are on Trump's side, if he wants to take Central Roma Continent with the least cost, he must rely on us to provide military equipment."

"If we overtly cooperate with supplies but covertly cause some trouble, and Interstellar Peace Corporation adds some pressure..."

Morgan suddenly gasped, understanding Bott's idea: "You mean... Lone Star State independence?"

"Exactly!" Bott's face was contorted with excitement, "Think about it, when Trump is deeply mired in Central Roma Continent, when Interstellar Peace Corporation imposes sanctions on New Union..." He brought up a document labeled "Lone Star Emergency Plan," "Our private armed forces, plus Militech's equipment, are enough to defend Lone Star State!"

"Don't forget, our infrastructure has never relied on other states from the very beginning."

Frank slowly stood up, his gaze sweeping over each director present, seeing no longer panic, but the gradually igniting fire of ambition.

"Notify the 'Lone Star Guard' to enter Level 1 combat readiness." His voice was low and dangerous, "At the same time... prepare two statements. One condemning Trump's acts of war, and the other..." A cold smile played on his lips, "Once the main forces are engaged, we'll go with the flow."