Chapter 256 Attention from All Sides, and the Industrial Census

Soon, a day had passed.

This day was an extremely special one for the entire world.

The United Nations Security Council's special meeting regarding the space dispute was about to convene.

New York, United Nations Headquarters.

This glass-walled building standing by the East River appeared exceptionally solemn and busy today.

The eyes of the world, like countless spotlights, were all focused here at this moment.

Countless satellite signals transmitted live footage from here to every corner of the Earth.

Journalists from major international media outlets, carrying their 'long spears and short cannons' (cameras), crowded the building's entrance so tightly that not even water could trickle through, fearing they might miss a single micro-expression on the face of any major power's representative.

In live broadcast rooms, political analysts spoke with flying spittle, analyzing the profound impact this meeting could have on the space landscape for decades to come.

Military enthusiasts on forums were frantically refreshing pages, debating whether the passage of space terra nullius would trigger a new round of Star Wars.

Meanwhile, in the Eastern Country.

The atmosphere on the internet had reached a boiling point after days of careful preparation by the official media.

It had to be said that the people in the Eastern Country's propaganda department had truly mastered the art of the tragic narrative this time.

Over the past few days, major official media outlets took turns publishing articles, each more sensational and aggrieved than the last.

Titles like 'Is Our Space Dream About to Be Cut Short by Hegemony?'

And 'My Heart Bleeds Watching Our Orbits Being Seized!'

Between the lines, there was a sense of tragic heroism—that we worked hard, we struggled, but we were bullied and pushed into a corner.

...

This narrative greatly stimulated patriotic passion and a sense of shared enmity among the public.

Opening any major domestic Social Media Platform—be it Social Media Platform, TikTok, or various forums—the screens were filled with indignant denunciations.

The Netizens' fury was like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

"They're bullying us too much! Those Ugly Country bandits!"

"How is this a meeting? This is clearly a meeting to divide the loot!"

"Our diplomats must hold their ground! We absolutely cannot let them pass this rogue 'non-ownership' clause!"

"If it passes, how will we launch satellites in the future? Having someone else's stuff all over our heads—just thinking about it is stifling!"

"I don't believe it. The Eastern Country is so strong now; are we really going to let them shit on our necks in space?"

"Go Minister Wang! Show those foreign devils what we're made of!"

Patriotic sentiment among the people reached an all-time high. Countless individuals sat before their screens; though separated by vast distances, their hearts were all tied to that distant meeting venue.

...

Amidst this atmosphere of national attention.

The Imperial Capital.

In a spacious office filled with various documents and models at a certain aerospace research institute.

A white-haired old man wearing reading glasses had also temporarily set aside his mountain of work.

This was none other than the true giant of the scientific world, Qian Zhengming, also known as Elder Qian.

He sat at his desk, the computer screen in front of him playing the live broadcast of the United Nations meeting.

Elder Qian's expression was exceptionally grave.

In his hand, he still gripped a newly printed experimental data report.

It was a test report concerning carbon fiber materials.

Since Elder Qian returned from the Li Family Toy Factory last time, he had officially taken over a key national research project—the development of high-strength carbon fiber materials for the next generation of stealth fighter jets.

Although he and his team had indeed gained much inspiration and solved some technical difficulties through the robot dog obtained from Li Jiajun and other requisitioned items, including the Dragon Scale shell technology from that toy sky rocket.

But.

Scientific research is such that the deeper one goes, the more difficult every step becomes.

Especially when applying these technologies to fields like fighter jets, where material requirements are extremely stringent, they still encountered significant bottlenecks.

Insufficient toughness, fluctuations in high-temperature resistance under extreme environments...

This series of problems stood in their way like tigers blocking the path, preventing the research and development work from achieving a decisive breakthrough.

This had put Elder Qian under immense pressure lately, causing him to lose quite a bit of hair. Given Li Jiajun's precedent, he was even considering whether to conduct an industrial census to see if there was any corresponding technology among the public.

But today.

This old man, who had dedicated his life to the nation's aerospace industry, forced himself to pull his attention away from the pile of dry data.

He looked at the well-dressed representatives of various countries on the screen, each with their own hidden agendas, and his brow furrowed deeply.

Although, as a heavyweight in the inner circle, he actually knew the truth behind this open scheme.

He knew that they actually held over ten thousand satellites already in orbit—a trump card.

He also knew that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs' strategy this time was to use the opponent's strength against them.

But even so.

Watching the Ugly Country's aggressive posture and the upcoming hegemonic proposal for space terra nullius.

Elder Qian still found it difficult to feel at ease.

After all, this was a gamble played on the edge of a knife.

Acting was one thing, but what if something went wrong in the middle?

What if the other side didn't play by the rules?

It was like watching one's own child go into a life-and-death match in the ring; even if you knew the child had a gun in their pocket, as a parent watching from below, your palms would still sweat.

"Sigh..."

Elder Qian sighed, took off his glasses, and rubbed his sore eyes.

"Those folks in diplomacy don't have it easy either."

"This kind of job, where you have to call black white and still act like a victim—an ordinary person really couldn't pull it off."

He murmured to himself.

Then, he put his glasses back on, leaned forward slightly, and fixed his gaze intently on the screen.

On the screen.

The doors of the conference hall slowly closed.

The noisy chatter gradually died down.

Representatives from various countries were in their seats.

The meeting was about to begin!