140: Chapter 140 The Lockdown Order Cuts Off Hope

He gazed dazedly at the distant spire and the countless pillars of light connecting heaven and earth, remaining silent for a very, very long time.

He thought of his father and grandfather, who used to sit on the board of the Knox Family, discussing whether they should continue to act as an external supplier of spare parts for the DuPont Family, one of The Five Great Families...

Now, none of this matters anymore.

The Remington Family was dragged out of the game by Sterling single-handedly, while he himself had just happened not to say an extra word in that laboratory, and thus was let into the gate of this correct timeline.

He had never felt there was any fundamental difference between himself and Sterling, but now he realized that the gap between them was separated by this very door, separated by two completely different universes.

...

The tour lasted for over ten minutes.

The Chengyu Barrier containing Biden and his group began to descend slowly.

On the alloy base platform beneath their feet, a plaza paved with a marble-like material smoothly embedded itself into the bottom of the floating tracks.

Surrounded by neatly arranged pillars of light, each pillar had a slowly rotating holographic cube star map suspended a few feet above the ground.

The Chengyu Barrier of Biden and his group touched down steadily; the transparent walls rippled the moment they contacted the ground, then silently retracted upward and vanished.

Above them, the Chengyu Barrier of Diana and Augustus remained suspended in mid-air, continuing to drift slowly along the floating tracks.

As agents of the Longevity Faction, coming into this sub-space of the Deep State was like returning to their own territory; they could tour for as long as they liked.

A bolt of lightning struck vertically from the amber sky, hitting the space between the floating pillars in the center of the plaza.

As the light dissipated, Zhang Long stood in the center of the plaza surrounded by the light pillars, hands behind his back.

His blue and black gloves shimmered with a dim, eerie glow under the cold light of the pillars.

When the high-ranking White House officials saw Zhang Long appear, they all subconsciously straightened their postures.

Harris no longer held the cold arrogance she had displayed while standing under the scorching desert sun, feeling as though she had been slighted.

Graves hurriedly adjusted his military cap to sit straight on his head, fiddling with it several times until it was perfectly aligned.

Sawyer straightened his suit collar again and again, and before Zhang Long could even speak, he was the first to lower his head slightly.

Chief of Staff Madeleine Rasmussen turned off her phone screen, tucked it back into the compartment of her briefcase, and stood straight with her hands clasped in front of her.

The Secret Service agents all lowered their muzzles toward the ground.

The team leader hung his hands and lowered his head, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the surrounding light pillars, realizing that not a single person was still gripping their gun handle.

Biden gently tugged at the collar of his dark blue suit, took a half-step forward, lowered his head slightly, and then looked up at Zhang Long.

His gaze remained calm, but within that calmness was a layer of awe he had never shown before any foreign head of state.

Zhang Long slowly brought his hands from behind his back to his front.

His gaze swept over the faces of the high-ranking White House officials—who were either lowering their heads or struggling to maintain their composure while unable to hide their reverence—and he said in a flat tone: "Now, do you have any other opinions regarding the term 'personal instruction'?"

Biden leaned forward slightly, his voice clear and exceptionally solemn: "To have the Deep State, representing a higher civilization, lead the technological development of Earth's civilization is the honor of all mankind."

Harris immediately lowered her head, adding in a steady voice that was at least two octaves lower than usual: "Mr. President has spoken for all of us."

Graves and Mark Milley nodded in unison; the movement was slight but as clean and decisive as a standard bow when receiving a new rank at a promotion ceremony.

Chief of Staff Madeleine Rasmussen added: "This is a historical opportunity the Lighthouse Country has never had since its founding!"

Sawyer simply hung his hands at his sides and bowed deeply to Zhang Long.

Zhang Long reached out and gently flicked a floating cube star map within the light pillar in front of him, causing it to slowly rotate in another direction.

He then looked up at everyone present; his tone remained calm and composed, but every word carried the force of an irrefutable iron law.

"Good."

"Since the President of the America has decided to submit to the Deep State and accept personal instruction, I will now begin issuing the first order of the Longevity Faction."

"The first order: After the Longevity Faction helps humanity successfully resist the invasion of the million-strong fleet of Grey Alien, the government of the Lighthouse Country must invest all subsequent scientific research funding into the development of virtual worlds, allowing all of humanity to be immersed in an illusory world."

"Completely block any possibility of Earth's technology breaking out of the Solar System!"

When Biden heard the first half of the sentence, "the Longevity Faction helps humanity successfully resist the invasion of Grey Alien," his expression suddenly brightened.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief in that second, but the second half of Zhang Long's order came crashing down.

Invest all scientific research funding into virtual worlds, completely block Earth's technology!

This was not just an administrative order; it was an order to, after human civilization had just been completely crushed by the seal of the Temple of Mathematics in the wrong timeline, personally pour one final layer of despair over all of humanity.

Biden crossed his hands in front of him, remained silent for a moment, and then looked up to face Zhang Long directly.

Behind him, Harris's face instantly turned ashen.

Graves gripped the edge of his trouser pocket and released it several times.

Sawyer looked down at the ground.

The document folder in Chief of Staff Madeleine Rasmussen's hand emitted a faint "creak" as she squeezed it.

"Lord Zhang Long, when I previously heard you use the term 'personal instruction,' I had already anticipated that the conditions you would propose might be extremely harsh."

"But this point about blocking technology... it is almost diametrically opposed to everything we just witnessed with our own eyes in this correct timeline."

"You just let us see hope, but blocking technology is directly extinguishing the source of that hope."

Biden kept his pause extremely short, and after steadying himself, continued: "After π = 3 appeared, the whole world—including every city, town, and neighborhood within the territory of the Lighthouse Country—was burning. There was looting, smashing, and burning, and the internet was filled with desperate messages."

"People felt they were trapped in a wrong timeline and would never be able to fly out."

"We have finally managed to grasp a glimmer of light from this correct timeline of yours that could be used to soothe the entire society, yet you want us to lock all of this away and only leave them with virtual worlds?"

"This will make even more people desperate."

Zhang Long listened quietly, then looked at him, his tone as flat as before.

"Mr. President, there is one thing you seem to have failed to see clearly."

"Humanity does indeed need hope, but most of the time, the majority of people are unwilling to strive for hope themselves."

"Most humans are always accustomed to letting others strive for hope on their behalf, and have even created a whole set of honorary titles for this: heroes, knights, gentlemen, saints."

"They only take responsibility for watching from the sidelines, and then, after that group of people decides the winner, they scramble to imitate the moral posture of the victor."