251: Chapter 251 A single slap made him a laughingstock.

"Na... Nani?!"

The Security Supervisor's hoarse syllables echoed in the deathly silent room, bringing this "ambush" to an end.

He watched helplessly as his dozen most elite subordinates turned into charred corpses emitting green smoke in an instant, without even getting a chance to fire their guns.

And the culprit had simply raised his hand with nonchalance.

What was this?

What kind of electromagnetic weapon was he hiding?

Did such a weapon even exist?

Had Huaxia's technology already reached this level?

The faint light filtering through the side door outlined Chen You's calm profile.

The purple arc of electricity at his fingertips slowly dissipated.

To him, he hadn't even used ten percent of his strength.

If he truly let loose, he might have leveled the entire place!

"How was it?" Chen You turned his gaze to the Dragon Scale trio behind him, his tone as casual as if he were asking if they had eaten yet.

"Did you feel anything?"

Mu Xi's brow was tightly furrowed, his eyes filled with deep thought.

After a long while, he spoke with some uncertainty, "Just now... when you channeled your Spiritual Power, I seemed to catch a trace of its trajectory, but it was too fast, gone in a flash."

Lin Miao, on the other hand, shook her head quite bluntly, her face written with a daze that said 'who am I and where am I'.

It was too ridiculous.

What about the Spiritual Power circulation, Meridian Routes, Hand Seals, and Incantations mentioned in the manuals?

How did it turn into a simple hand raise for an instant kill when it came to him?

Chen You nodded, expressing his understanding.

A Heaven-Rank Cultivation Method was likely quite difficult for beginners who had just started.

Mu Xi's talent was already considered very good for being able to catch even a trace of fluctuation on the spiritual level.

Meanwhile, Liu Ming's expression was far more complex.

He looked at the smoking corpses on the floor, then at the calm and collected Chen You, his face clearly spelling out three words: "I'm not happy."

It was an extremely complex expression, a mix of "Holy crap, that was awesome," "Damn it, he's showing off again," and "My debut is ruined."

"I feel..." Liu Ming held it in for a long time before finally speaking with a look of deep sorrow, "You should have left a couple for us."

It wasn't easy to go abroad for such an exciting mission, yet he didn't even get a chance to lift a finger.

What was the difference between this and going to a shooting range just to smell the gunpowder?

Hearing this, Chen You couldn't help but smile.

"What's the rush?" He waved his hand. "There will be plenty of chances later."

"Proceed according to plan."

He glanced at the Security Supervisor, who was shaking like a leaf.

"Mu Xi, take him away. He definitely knows where Japan's secrets are hidden."

"Especially those dirty dealings between the Japanese high-ranking officials and the United States—dig them all out."

"Liu Ming," Chen You patted his shoulder, "the guards outside are all yours. Remember, leave no survivors, and keep the noise down."

Liu Ming's eyes instantly lit up, his previous grievances swept away.

He was like he'd been injected with adrenaline, pounding his chest hard. "Mission guaranteed!"

...

Meanwhile.

At the entrance of the Shinto Shrine, the scene of the worship ceremony.

Hundreds of media outlets from around the world had their cameras and lenses aimed at the temporary speech platform, with flashes popping incessantly.

On the periphery, protest groups who had heard the news held up banners and shouted at the top of their lungs.

However, the security forces kept them separated, leaving them to express their emotions only through their voices.

None of this could affect the Japanese Prime Minister on the stage, Watanabe Jie.

He wore a composed and appropriate smile, waving to the cameras and the crowd as if he were attending a grand celebration.

Behind him, the security team followed closely, and the brainwashed Kuroda Ryuji stood nearest to him.

"Watanabe! Stop your shameless behavior!"

"Apologize for your historical crimes immediately!"

Watanabe Jie turned a deaf ear, slowly walking to the microphone and clearing his throat.

The clamor in the square miraculously quieted down.

Everyone knew the main event was about to begin.

Watanabe Jie took a deep breath, a fanatical and smug expression appearing on his face.

"Fellow citizens! Friends!"

"Today, we stand here to commemorate the heroic spirits who sacrificed their lives for the country! To defend the untarnishable glory of our Yamato Nation!"

"No external pressure, no unreasonable accusations, can shake our determination! History will be written by ourselves!"

As soon as his voice fell, the right-wing groups below the stage immediately erupted into a tsunami of cheers.

Meanwhile, the curses from the protesters became even more furious.

Watanabe Jie thoroughly enjoyed this feeling of being the center of attention. He spread his arms, preparing to deliver even more impassioned words.

Just then.

Kuroda Ryuji, standing behind him, moved.

Under the gaze of billions of people worldwide, this heroic agent whom the Prime Minister had just recovered silently opened the backpack in his hand.

Then, he slowly pulled out a strangely shaped... "Tennis Racket."

At first, no one paid any attention.

Until, with no hint of effort, he swatted it heavily against the back of Watanabe Jie's head.

*Whack!*

A dull thud was clearly transmitted through the microphone across the entire square and to live broadcast channels all over the world.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

Everyone was stunned.

The cheers, protests, and curses below the stage came to an abrupt halt.

Everyone's eyes widened and mouths hung open, staring in disbelief at this absurd and bizarre scene on the stage.

Watanabe Jie's body jolted violently, his impassioned speech interrupted. His head buzzed as he stumbled forward, his gold-rimmed glasses flying off.

He was completely dazed.

Who am I?

Where am I?

Who hit me?

He turned his head stiffly and saw Kuroda Ryuji's expressionless face.

And the Tennis Racket in his hand that had come from out of nowhere.

An uncontrollable rage instantly surged to the top of his head.

"Kuroda! What are you doing?!"

Watanabe Jie lowered his voice, growling through gritted teeth.

Kuroda Ryuji's gaze was very calm.

He looked at his Prime Minister and, in a flat tone as if stating a fact, said word for word:

"Come, repeat after me: I am a dumbass."

Watanabe Jie: "???"

"Have you lost your mind?!"

Watanabe Jie was shaking with rage; he simply couldn't believe his ears.

Kuroda Ryuji showed a look of regret. "If there's a problem with your thoughts, it needs a physical correction."

What was a problem?

Before Watanabe Jie could think further, he saw Kuroda Ryuji raise the Tennis Racket again.

"Sto—"

*Whack!*

Another crisp, clean, and decisive thud.

This time, it landed squarely on Watanabe Jie's face.

The entire world fell into deathly silence.

The brains of world leaders, intelligence analysts, and ordinary citizens watching this via live stream collectively crashed.

What... what was going on?

A coup?

An assassination?

Or was Japan popularizing some brand-new form of performance art that they couldn't understand?

Kuroda Ryuji looked at the Prime Minister, who was seeing stars from the swat, and spoke with a hint of patient guidance.

"Be good now, repeat after me: I am a dumbass."