143: Chapter 143 The Target List Expands Again

The atmosphere at the scene gradually heated up.

Several high-ranking officials from different factions stood on either side of the stone table, their verbal sparring already taking on the air of a congressional hearing.

President Joseph Biden raised his left hand to press down, drawing everyone's attention back to himself.

"Keep a close watch on Solomon Crane's Crane Family first."

"As for the rest of the Jewish Financial Groups... check first if they have any connections with the Mothmen before making a decision."

All the high-ranking officials present fell silent simultaneously and nodded slightly.

Lawrence Graves tucked his military cap, which had been resting on the stone table, back under his arm and added: "I will immediately deploy an upgrade to the surveillance of all known strongholds of the Crane Family."

President Joseph Biden swept his gaze across the faces of the high-ranking officials present. His tone remained steady, but he shifted the subject, pushing the question further.

"Is there anyone else?"

"Besides the Tech Faction and Solomon's Jewish Financial Groups, is there anyone else in this world right now who can influence the implementation of the 'Lockdown Earth' order?"

The atmosphere was quiet for a moment.

Director of Intelligence Alan Holt slowly raised a hand from a position near the back of the crowd.

After President Joseph Biden signaled for him to speak, he tossed out the answer using a minimalist expression style honed by decades of intelligence briefings.

"Prant."

"He is currently preparing to run for the next president, and his daily speeches are all about publicly disclosing all information regarding the Aliens."

"If he successfully takes office and dumps things like the Hoover Dam, π = 3, and the wrong space-time to the media..."

"Then the Longevity Faction's 'Lockdown Earth' plan will be riddled with holes by his public opinion attacks before it even gets started."

Prant...

President Joseph Biden muttered to himself, not speaking immediately.

He stood there, looking down at the sun-scorched mineral water bottle on the edge of the stone table, his entire posture quiet as if paused.

Chief of Staff Madeleine Rasmussen waited beside him for a moment and softly called out, "Mr. President," but he only waved his hand to indicate he was still thinking.

Then, the sub-space gate tore open silently in the center of the courtyard again.

Diana Hopkins and Augustus Knox walked out one after the other.

Diana's expression remained calm and stern, while Augustus followed at her side, his thick, heavy palms hanging at his sides, his expression even more composed and naturally at ease than before.

Ronald Sawyer instinctively straightened his back by half an inch.

Chief of Staff Madeleine Rasmussen closed her folder and tucked it under her arm, adjusting her posture to be as upright as when facing global cameras at a White House press conference.

Harris slightly raised her chin, her expression appearing even more respectful.

Lawrence Graves put his military cap back on his head squarely, the brim tilted half an inch to the right, which he immediately corrected nonchalantly.

Mark Milley's thick, sturdy palms, which remained motionless when facing aggressive questioning from congressmen at various Pentagon hearings, hung at his sides now, fingers slightly spread, without any unnecessary movement.

When Diana spoke, her tone remained cold, but every word carried the absolute weight granted by Zhang Long's earlier remark, "Go to Diana to get it."

"Mr. President, all future technological data delivered by the Longevity Faction will be handled directly by the Hopkins Family to the White House."

"We will send a specialist to notify you of the specific dates and handover plans."

President Joseph Biden nodded slightly and extended his hand to shake Diana's.

His movement was small, but the duration and pressure of the handshake were just right; it was not a president receiving an arms dealer, but rather an old-school politician confirming a partnership.

"The Hopkins Family will continue to enjoy the highest level of technical transit authority."

"The White House will be waiting for your news at any time."

...

Los Angeles, Hollywood Hills, detached villa.

Zhang Yi leaned back against the sofa, and a new emotion points credit notification jumped on the system interface before him: a total of 500,000 points.

But he only glanced at the number, not even twitching the corner of his mouth.

500,000 was not a small amount; in the past, it would have been enough to get him excited for quite a while, but at this moment, his attention was entirely focused on the system interface, on another set of real-time updated surveillance footage.

That was the motorcade of Rockefeller III, Samuel Astor, Isabelle DuPont, Jacob Rothschild, and William Vanderbilt V.

The motorcade was advancing at high speed along a lakeside road in New York State that had been sealed off in advance by private security.

Several bulletproof armored SUVs were in the front and back, guarding the customized stretched Cadillacs in the middle in a tight formation.

On both sides of the road, every few hundred feet, one could see a sentry post of The Five Great Families' joint armed group, with a light armored vehicle parked behind each post.

Overhead, four unmarked Black Hawk helicopters swept past at low altitude at cruising speed, the roar of their rotors causing the lake surface to ripple in layers.

New York Long Island, the ancestral territory of old-school Jewish Financial Groups on the North Shore Gold Coast.

Within a ten-kilometer radius centered on the Crane Family's nearly twenty-acre estate, all public roads, private driveways, coastal piers, and even fishing village paths had long been cleared.

No unauthorized persons could get close, and no non-authorized vehicles could cross the outer checkpoints.

The Five Great Families were not here to negotiate this time; they were not here to exchange conditions; they were here to execute military suppression!

Once it was confirmed that Solomon Crane could not mobilize any armed forces of the Mothmen, in the eyes of Rockefeller III, he was merely an isolated wall without backup, which would collapse as soon as it was pushed.

Looking at the motorcade in the footage steadily advancing along the lakeside road toward the Crane Family estate, Zhang Yi knew the purpose of their trip: to force Solomon to hand over the Zeta Star Fourth Prince Prince Dao Dun, or to find any clues that could prove the whereabouts of Prince Dao Dun.

But in the script of this behind-the-scenes manipulator, the Mothmen were fake, and the Fourth Prince Prince Dao Dun were also fake; everything was a fictional plot he had concocted.

Therefore, in order to make this play reach the maximum peak of emotion points in the closing stage, he needed to add a little seasoning to the script.

"System."

"Now I need to perform a first-level text record modification and a second-level reality object modification within Solomon's Crane Family estate."

The system replied in a second: [Please list the modification contents.]

Zhang Yi reported the modification list item by item.

After he finished reporting, just as the system was about to quote the price, he suddenly added:

"Additionally, this time I also want to perform a third-level personal memory modification."

The system paused for a rare moment.

That pause was longer than it took to process any usual query.

If the system had human emotions, it was probably confirming repeatedly at this moment that its voice recognition module had not encountered a bug.

This host had always been calculating and stingy; he would never buy if he could rent, would never add a core if he could just fix the shell, would never touch real objects if he could just modify text records, and even used holographic textures to bluff when building a sub-space floating city.

Today, he actually took the initiative to request a third-level personal memory modification?

This was the first time since he had owned the system, the first time!