211: Chapter 211 The Sauce in the Coffee Cup

The morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Presidential Palace dining room, plating the white tablecloth with a soft golden edge. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly ground coffee and the toasted scent of bread. Zhang Cheng, dressed in comfortable loungewear, sat across from Li Lanzhi, who was in a simple professional suit, enjoying a rare, quiet breakfast time undisturbed by urgent military intelligence. Li Lanzhi was speaking softly about the day's administrative arrangements in a gentle tone.

"...The primary education enrollment rate in several eastern states has risen by another three percentage points, and the first batch of students from the vocational technical schools built with aid from the Dragon Nation is about to graduate. Several electronics factories have already gone ahead to 'reserve' talent." Li Lanzhi cut a small piece of fried egg, a faint smile on her lips. "Old Wu sent back a report from Kyaukpyu Port; the third phase of the deep-water pier expansion project is ahead of schedule and is expected to be operational by the end of the year. By then, the throughput can double again."

Zhang Cheng listened, nodding slightly, but his gaze drifted a bit. The unified Federation of Myanmar was like a massive machine, roaring onto the track of revival under the push of him and Li Lanzhi. Domestic construction was flourishing, and external enemies were temporarily dormant. This "normal" life of national governance sometimes felt subtly surreal to a sovereign who had crawled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

Li Lanzhi noticed his distraction and followed his gaze, which fell on the large LCD television hanging on the opposite wall. The TV was playing CNN's morning news on mute; what should have been the global finance or weather segment was currently occupied by images filled with gunpowder smoke and cries.

She picked up the remote and turned up the volume.

"...A spokesperson for the Squid Nation Defense Forces held a press conference early this morning, announcing that the large-scale military operation codenamed 'Iron Wall' has achieved a 'decisive victory'." The CNN anchorwoman's face was solemn as the background footage switched to continuous shots of Squid Nation F-35 fighters dropping precision-guided bombs. The targets were clearly densely populated residential areas in the Gaza Strip, with buildings collapsing in explosions and dust billowing into the sky. "The spokesperson claimed to have 'thoroughly eliminated' the main backbone and infrastructure of the 'Jiasha Resistance Organization' entrenched in the Khan Yunis area..."

The scene immediately cut to the perspective of ground troops. merkava main battle tanks, emblazoned with the Star of David, roared as they ground through narrow streets, ruthlessly flattening low-rise civilian houses. Furniture that people hadn't had time to move and... blood-stained fabrics were faintly visible among the bricks and rubble. As the camera shook, it briefly captured a Squid Nation soldier raising his gun and pulling the trigger toward several blurred figures running around a street corner; the footage was then quickly cut away, but that flash of cruelty was already branded in the mind.

BBC's footage focused on a temporary medical point in front of a field of ruins. Covered in dust and blood, a Gaza woman held a silently weeping child, an old man gazed blankly at his home turned to rubble, and the eyes of the youth burned with despair and hatred. The reporter described the "humanitarian disaster" in a heavy tone, with the voice-over being a Squid Nation commander being interviewed, his tone resolute: "We have the right to defend our people. Any threat must be uprooted. This is self-defense, nothing else."

Next, the scene switched to the White House briefing room in Washington. The USA State Department spokesperson faced the camera with a "firm" expression: "The USA reiterates its firm support for Squid Nation's right to self-defense. Squid Nation has the absolute right to protect its citizens from terrorist attacks. We call on all parties to exercise restraint, but it must be clearly pointed out that the responsibility for the conflict lies with the party that launched the attack first."

"Restraint?" Li Lanzhi's fingers tightened slightly around her cutlery, her knuckles turning a bit white. She had experienced the hell of the industrial parks and seen darkness, but this systematic destruction of civilian areas by a state machine, carried out in the name of "justice" as shown on TV, still caused her a wave of physiological discomfort and a chill. "Is this what they call 'self-defense' and 'counter-terrorism'?"

Zhang Cheng didn't answer immediately. He set down the silver fork in his hand, which made a soft "ting" as it touched the porcelain plate. His gaze was locked on the burning streets, the crying children, and the indifferent faces of the Squid Nation soldiers on the screen. The only sounds left in the restaurant were the slightly hurried tone of the news anchor and the faint, distant sound of the city waking up.

He was no stranger to such scenes. The law of the jungle, hegemonic logic, and barbaric acts cloaked in civilization. In the process of his rise in Northern Myanmar, he had seen too many similar faces—those who, relying on their own strength, felt they could arbitrarily define justice and evil, treating other people's homes and lives as obstacles to be cleared at will.

But this wasn't the Golden Triangle, nor was it a warlord's territory that he could directly steamroll with his army of Death Soldiers. This was a tangled international geopolitical quagmire involving the world's most sensitive nerves, the very cornerstone of the USA's Middle East strategy.

Intervening meant directly challenging the core interest zones of the USA and its allies, which could invite an all-round encirclement and suppression ten times more violent than the previous Tianzhu conflict. His Federation of Myanmar had just gained its footing, and while the Dragon Nation's support existed, it wasn't infinite. Going deep into the Middle East at this moment was by no means a wise move.

Do nothing? Looking at the blood on the screen and listening to that set of hypocritical rhetoric, something long dormant in the depths of Zhang Cheng's heart was gently stirred. It was the same thing that had erupted back in the trash pit when facing Wang Pangzi's oppression—an instinctive loathing for those who bully the weak and turn black into white. Only now, what he saw wasn't a small boss, but a behemoth wearing the cloak of a nation, tearing at a much weaker group.

He wasn't a savior, nor was he interested in being an international policeman. But...

"Some things," Zhang Cheng spoke slowly, his voice not loud but making the air in the restaurant seem to freeze, "once seen and known... if I act as if I didn't see them because I'm afraid of trouble or because I'm calculating gains and losses... then what is the difference between me and those people sitting in glass buildings, sipping coffee while approving bombing lists?"

Li Lanzhi looked at him with concern and worry in her eyes, but even more so with understanding. She knew the man beside her too well; beneath his iron blood, there always remained a near-obsessive adherence to his own inner principles. He could compromise and trade for strategic interests, but there were some bottom lines he could not cross.

Zhang Cheng didn't look at Li Lanzhi; his gaze seemed to pierce through the TV screen toward that distant and suffering land. He closed his eyes, and his consciousness sank into the system interface in his mind.

The golden virtual panel unfolded, with the options for [Death Soldier Summoning] and [Equipment Exchange] shining brightly. His point balance was an astronomical figure, enough to exchange for an army capable of stirring up stormy waves in a small country.