Chapter 410 You're not hiding anything from me, are you?

'Fortunately, I still have the Firefighting Parent-Child Pistol; this flagship product is safe,' he thought to himself.

Some time later.

A crisp electronic notification sound rang out.

The screen of the phone fixed on the stand instantly went dark.

Li Jiajun's video call with the various big shots finally disconnected completely.

That "Firefighting Trade Fair" which had shocked the entire internet and high-ranking officials came to a close on the small phone screen.

Shortly after.

Inside the old factory building in Baishui City.

Sitting at his large desk, Li Jiajun let out a long breath.

He picked up the teacup beside him, took a small sip of warm water, and looked past the windowsill toward the backyard.

In the open space outside, that rugged-looking Tracked Armored Vehicle was parked quietly.

Leaning against the testing rack nearby was that Individual Shoulder-fired Rocket Launcher Tube that had caused so much trouble.

Although these large-scale firefighting devices were wiped out and would inevitably be taken away by the authorities.

He didn't feel too dejected at this moment.

After all, he still held a trump card in his hand.

Thinking of that batch of plastic toy guns that sold out instantly, his mouth twitched, followed by a gratified smile.

Those Netizens in the livestream who had raced to snap up orders from the "little yellow cart" were the customers who truly knew their stuff and were reasonable.

As long as this production line kept running at full speed, the Li Family Toy Factory could continue to shine in the civilian market.

This compact Firefighting Parent-Child Pistol became his only solace on this frustrating afternoon.

...

Meanwhile, on the other side.

In the Imperial Capital.

Inside an office in the General Armament Department building.

The Old General stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, his brows tightly furrowed as he recalled the mushroom cloud rising in the livestream.

Without a moment's delay.

Turning back to the mahogany desk, the Old Chief reached out and picked up the receiver of the secure landline, placing a call directly to Liu Jianguo.

At the same time, inside an office at the Ministry of Military Industry.

This old comrade, Liu Jianguo, was slumped in his leather chair, clutching a few tissues and constantly wiping the sweat from his forehead.

The ring of the dedicated line suddenly rang out.

His scalp tingling with shock, Liu Jianguo hurriedly sat up straight and grabbed the receiver.

Over the phone, the Old General's voice carried an innate authority as he ordered Liu Jianguo to fly to Baishui City immediately to personally handle the requisition of all those lethal weapons Li Jiajun had created.

After all.

No matter how little Li tried to argue, these heavy-firepower armaments—capable of changing the form of land warfare—absolutely could not remain in the yard of a private toy factory.

They had to be fully taken over by the authorities and placed under the highest level of sealing.

...

Listening to the command.

Liu Jianguo felt the weight on his shoulders was as heavy as a thousand tons.

And he didn't dare hesitate for a second.

Just as Liu Jianguo, drenched in sweat, agreed and prepared to have his assistant book a flight.

On the other end of the line, the Old Chief paused slightly.

The Old General seemed to think of Li Jiajun's "trouble-prone" constitution whenever he built something.

Every time that young man was given a bit of R&D space, he always managed to stir up world-shaking chaos.

Holding the receiver, the Old General's tone darkened as he asked Liu Jianguo with some unease, "You kid aren't hiding anything else from me with that fellow Li Jiajun, are you?"

...

Hearing this soul-piercing interrogation.

A chill ran down Liu Jianguo's spine, and his throat felt dry.

He quickly scanned all the recent coordination details with Baishui City in his mind.

From the Exoskeleton to the rocket launcher, then to the armored vehicle and the Thermobaric Bomb—all these deadly items had been completely exposed through the livestream.

Aside from these large items, that kid's factory really only had a batch of defective toy guns meant for putting out lighter flames.

Thinking of this, Liu Jianguo swallowed hard.

He hurriedly and urgently stated, "No more, no more. Before, when that kid was making firefighting equipment, I..."

Gripping the receiver, he originally wanted to habitually shift the blame and make a few excuses for himself.

He intended to complain about his hardships, saying he was also a victim kept in the dark and that it was all the fault of the kid's bizarre way of thinking.

However, the Old General on the other end simply waved his hand dismissively and interrupted him through the phone.

The Old Chief had no interest in hearing these meaningless explanations.

The Old General said, "I'm not listening to your nonsense anymore; I have other matters to attend to."

With that, the call was hung up decisively.

A series of monotonous busy tones came from the receiver.

Holding the phone in a daze, Liu Jianguo sat in his chair, speechless.

After a sigh, the old comrade could only helplessly put down the receiver and begin arranging his trip to Baishui City.

...

Over at the General Armament Department.

After putting down the receiver, the Old General pushed open the door and walked out of his office.

The corridor lights illuminated the Old Chief's resolute face.

He walked briskly, followed by two guards who looked equally serious.

As it turned out, the Old General had something even more important next: he was also closely monitoring the Decapitation Strike at Sanbianpo.

This operation was of great significance, involving a deep-cover mission behind enemy lines to carry out a deterrent task.

Those soldiers who had infiltrated in small groups represented the blades of the Eastern Country, walking on the edge of a knife with every step.

There was no room for the slightest error.

After calling Liu Jianguo, the Old General hurried to a Logistics Center under the jurisdiction of the General Armament Department.

Passing through two security gates, he pushed open the heavy alloy double doors.

Inside the Logistics Center hall, rows of precision computer terminals flickered with faint light.

Technicians wearing communication headsets were rapidly tapping away at their keyboards.

Various data streams cascaded like waterfalls across the auxiliary screens on the sides.

Directly in front of the hall was a massive electronic screen.

On this large screen in the Logistics Center, the footage from the Tactical Recorders of the tactical squad—including Yan Poyue and Old Wolf, who were carrying out the Decapitation Strike—could be synchronized in real-time.

Striding to the center of the hall, the Old General pulled over a chair and sat down.

The Old Chief arrived at this Logistics Center exactly at 2:00 PM.

Following a series of calibration operations by the technicians.

With a faint electronic notification sound, the signal on the big screen was successfully connected.

It just so happened that Yan Poyue, Old Wolf, and the others had already silently infiltrated the very edge of the Compound.

This was the first-person perspective transmitted back from the miniature cameras on their persons.

Through the high-definition lens, the overgrown, muddy terrain ahead was clearly visible.

The image shook slightly.

Several figures in dark tactical gear moved through the thickets.

They nimbly bypassed a heavily guarded sentry post.

The post was constructed from a pile of sandbags and barbed wire, with several armed security personnel holding rifles standing inside.

They were huddled together smoking and chatting, completely unaware that death had just brushed past them.

At this moment, torrential rain had begun to fall in Sanbianpo.

Dark clouds filled the sky, blotting out all sunlight.

The weather was as gloomy as night.

Gale-force winds ravaged the entire tropical rainforest, with branches swaying wildly in the wind.

Raindrops as large as beans pelted the leaves and muddy ground, making a loud splashing sound.

Under the cover of the harsh weather, Old Wolf made a tactical hand signal in front.

Yan Poyue and the others immediately bent low and followed, their boots splashing through the mud.

A large amount of rainwater streamed down their tactical goggles.

The rain washed over the lens, bringing a sense of oppressive urgency.