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Chapter 132 An Impossible Mission! Survival of the Fittest! (10,000 words, please subscribe)
Yang Guolong's fingertips began to grow cold as he held the project proposal he had read after signing the confidentiality agreement.

The paper wasn't heavy, but every word on it felt like it was cast in lead, making it hard for him to breathe.

He felt that he hadn't come to build anything, but had fallen into a carefully laid trap.

“Um,” Yang Guolong forced a smile that looked more like a grimace, trying to negotiate with the young soldier standing ramrod straight next to him, “is it too late to revoke the confidentiality agreement I signed before? This work is a bit beyond my capabilities.”

The soldier's eyes remained unwavering, like two obsidian stones, as he calmly looked at him and uttered two words: "No."

His eyes held a scrutinizing gaze, as if assessing whether he had any other intentions.

Yang Guolong sheepishly looked away, inwardly cursing his company's leaders to the core.

If the transfer order hadn't come from the head office and the department he was dealing with hadn't been of an incredibly high rank, he would have thought he'd been tricked into some new kind of pyramid scheme.

Yang Guolong has spent his entire life dealing with mountains, rocks, and tunnel boring machines.

I've done many challenging engineering projects!

But the document in front of him was more outrageous than all the projects he had ever seen in his entire life.

A 15-meter-wide underground passage will be built from the foot of Zhurihe New City, running westward for a total of 350 kilometers!

What does 350 kilometers mean?
You can drive from Beijing to the next province!

How much resources are we prepared to invest in Zhurihe New City?
My old partner next to me, a senior engineer surnamed Liu named Zong Hai, had already taken out a cigarette and lit it. In the swirling smoke, his voice sounded a little shaky.

"Old Yang, don't bother. I think the higher-ups have gone mad. This plan is so radical, it's like they made the decision after drinking three catties of liquor. Let's ask the company leaders again!"

"We signed so many contracts before, and judging from the soldiers' expressions, it's probably for real. If this thing is really going to be built, it has to be done in sections. Were those confidentiality agreements we just signed just rubbish? Such a huge project can't possibly be kept secret!"

Engineer Liu exhaled a smoke ring and pointed to the astonishing length on the blueprint.

"Three hundred and fifty kilometers, thirty-five meters underground, it needs to be able to accommodate 100-ton trucks driving side by side, be explosion-proof, and also have several main water pipelines crammed in... What are they trying to do? Are they diverting water from the Pacific Ocean to the Sahara Desert? Or are they building an underground Great Wall? But why are they asking us? Shouldn't the engineering corps be in charge of this secretly?"

Yang Guolong gave a wry smile.

Technically speaking, they are really capable of doing this job.

The geological conditions of the Gobi Desert in Zhurihe are not complicated. There are no solid rock layers; it is basically sandy soil and gravel layers.

Using the bureau's most advanced tunnel boring machine, it's almost as easy as cutting tofu.

The problem isn't how to do it, but how to do it secretly.

"The scale of the project is too large. Even if you were to take over the entire subway line in Beijing, it wouldn't be comparable!"

Yang Guolong rubbed his temples, feeling that his professional knowledge was being challenged like never before. "I really don't understand what the point is of building a 300-kilometer-long, two-way underground tunnel under the Gobi Desert!"

"What are you planning?"

Engineer Liu threw the cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it out with his toe.

"It's for the new city, I guess. I really don't understand why they're investing so much in Zhurihe. If this were made public, it would probably cause a huge uproar."

While joking around, Engineer Liu flipped through the contract to see the required construction time.

Upon seeing the string of numbers, Engineer Liu's eyes widened!
"Old Yang, pinch me, am I seeing things?"

Engineer Liu had almost put the cigarette butt in his mouth when he pointed at the line of text on the document, his voice distorted.

"The first phase of the project is 200 kilometers long, and it must be open to traffic within nine months?"

Nine months!
How to dig a 200-kilometer-long underground subway tunnel under the Gobi Desert that can outrun high-speed rail?

Yang Guolong felt a sudden dizziness, not from exhaustion, but from fright.

He snatched the document, brought it close to his eyes, and read it word by word.

That's right, it's nine months.

Yang Guolong felt as if the sky had fallen!
Why did I sign a confidentiality agreement in the first place?!
He even vowed to keep the secret until his grave.

It’s over!!!

"Damn it, who made this decision?!" Engineer Liu was also excited. He slapped his thigh and stood up abruptly. "Are they rushing to their death? Do they think tunnel boring machines are super pangolins, that you can just feed them some dirt and they'll start digging fast?"

"Insane! Absolutely insane! To complete a mission with secrecy and speed? That's impossible, utterly impossible!"

Yang Guolong was also scratching his head.

His already bald head was scratched unconsciously by his hands until it was shiny.

This is not just radicalism, it's the murder of engineers.

Are they planning to bury all these civil engineers, along with their machines, in this 350-kilometer-long underground tunnel to turn them into terracotta warriors?

"This top-secret job has to be completed within a limited time, there's simply no way to do it!"

Engineer Liu paced back and forth in the room, looking very agitated.

"Even if we bring over all the busy construction teams, working 24/7 in three shifts, with the machines running non-stop and the workers not stopping... uh, it seems we need forty machines, uh, it seems like nine months might be enough... never mind, the weather here is bad, with strong sandstorms, extreme cold and scorching heat all at the same time! If there's any accident here, the construction period will have to be delayed!"

As Mr. Liu talked to himself, his mind raced with calculations.

Yang Guolong's lips moved, but he didn't speak.

He wanted to agree, but his engineer's instincts made him feel that the task seemed achievable.

He also subconsciously began to do mental arithmetic.

"A single engineering firm definitely couldn't handle it; the construction period is too tight!"

He muttered to himself, his gaze drifting into the distance, a map of the distribution of engineering units across the country appearing in his mind.

"We need to bring out units 18 and 14. Dozens of tunnel boring machines, divided into at least twenty sections, will be excavating simultaneously from forty working faces..."

"It can be completed without secrecy, but it's impossible to complete under secrecy, right?" Liu Zonghai complained.

Seeing Yang Guolong's dazed look, he sighed.

"Old Yang, wake up! Logistics and supplies can't escape the sight of satellites in the sky. I estimate that it would take at least tens of thousands of construction workers to carry out the work in sections?"

"With so many people dumped on this Gobi Desert, it's impossible to keep it a secret. The amount of food, drink, and waste they consume every day is astronomical."

Yang Guolong was brought back to his senses by what he said, and his face was full of bitterness.

Yes, how did he even figure it out?

This is simply an impossible mission to complete.

He deflated, threw the documents on the table, and prepared to lie down completely.

But just by throwing it away, the document turned to the last page—the financial quote and budget summary.

A long string of zeros made him dizzy.

“Liu Zonghai,” Yang Guolong’s voice was a little hoarse as he pointed to the paper, “you…you come and take a look.”

Engineer Liu walked over impatiently and looked down.

The next second, he froze, his eyes wide open like saucers.

"Fuck!"

A deafening, swearing curse echoed through the silent office.

Engineer Liu picked up the document to look at it, and almost crushed the paper in his hand.

He counted the string of numbers three times from beginning to end, then looked up at Yang Guolong with a strange expression.

"Is the unit after this... RMB? Or Zimbabwean dollars?"

The total budget was outrageously high, and the bonus for completing the project was marked with a figure that would drive any engineering company crazy on the spot.

Hundreds of billions of dollars!
This is absolutely outrageous!
The atmosphere in the office changed instantly.

Just moments ago, the air was thick with despair and anger, but now all that remained was heavy breathing and a burning desire called "money-grubbing."

"Damn it..." Engineer Liu swallowed hard, and a bright smile appeared on his face, which had just been cursing. "With so much money, let alone nine months, even six months... I think our superiors would agree that it's negotiable!"

The infrastructure-building frenzy is insane; if you pay enough, you can even dig up the King of Hell!
Yang Guolong's tense face relaxed; he had never fought such a lucrative battle in his entire life.

In the past, which of those major engineering projects that traversed natural barriers wasn't done with meticulous budgeting, with estimates calculated to two decimal places?

This time, the client was so afraid they wouldn't have enough to eat that they piled up a mountain of gold in front of them.

At this moment, challenges and humiliations all transformed into unparalleled motivation.

"This mission can be accomplished, let's do it!"

Yang Guolong grinned, smiling very happily.

"Throughout our lives, we've worked tirelessly with our colleagues, even carving through the natural barriers of Yunnan, Guizhou, Sichuan, and Chongqing, creating countless infrastructure miracles. The fact that the higher-ups dared to offer this price and have us sign a confidentiality agreement shows they trust us!"

He took a deep breath, and the dejection in his eyes vanished, replaced by the excitement of an engineer facing a difficult problem.

"Old Liu, let's ask them to draw more people who meet the confidentiality requirements. We don't have enough people!"

Yang Guolong picked up his pen again and began to write and draw rapidly on the paper.

"I have made a preliminary estimate that, to ensure the speed, the first phase of the project will require at least forty of the world's most advanced tunnel boring machines to operate simultaneously."

"Our own resources, plus those we can coordinate from other units, haha... are more than enough!"

He paused, his brow furrowed, then continued writing...

"For the approximately 200-kilometer, 15-meter-wide cross-section project from Zhurihe to Hohhot, under the core requirement of 'no expense spared, completion in nine months,' a comprehensive solution involving unconventional parallel construction, cutting-edge equipment, and high-intensity resource investment is required. The following are the phased implementation plan and key technical points—"

"Simultaneously deploying multiple ground-penetrating radar vehicles and 20 deep-hole drilling rigs, we conducted three-dimensional geological modeling of the entire line, focusing on marking weak layers, fault zones, and groundwater distribution..."

"...Using a dynamic, segmented construction and excavation adjustment method, with each five-kilometer segment serving as a node, it is estimated that 40 tunnel boring machines will be used for excavation for six months..."

"Construction will be carried out in phases..."

"Geological exploration and design optimization must be completed within one month..."

"The excavation team needs 200 people... the support team needs 150 people... the machinery team... the transportation team... will work in three shifts, and the total number of construction workers is estimated to be about 6!"

"With so many construction workers, it's impossible to hide the project!"

"Due to the extremely tight timeframe for this project, it is necessary to draw on experts from the Qingdao-Zhejiang Railway and the Qinling Mountains to form an on-site command center, leveraging collective wisdom to make real-time decisions regarding the project's progress."

"...The estimated steel requirement is 300 tons, requiring H-beams and reinforcing mesh...approximately 50 million cubic meters of quick-setting concrete, strength C50. 200 million square meters of waterproof membrane..."

After some calculations, a smile appeared on Yang Guolong's dark face.

"Submit a rough construction plan first; a more detailed plan will require careful verification!"

……

Inside a military hospital near the ocean.

The smell of disinfectant mixed with the dampness of the rain outside the window entered Tomoaki Oshima's nostrils, making his already drowsy head throb even more.

He stared at the gray sky outside, everything in his field of vision seemed to be covered with a layer of grime that could not be washed away.

"Clap."

The ward door was pushed open, and a figure in a sharp suit cast a long shadow that almost completely enveloped him.

He was Tomoaki Oshima's superior, Lieutenant Colonel Fujita.

"Fujita-kun!"

Oshima Tomoaki instinctively tensed up, struggling to get up and salute.

"Lie down, Oshima-san." Fujita waved his hand, pulled up a chair and sat down, his relaxed posture completely out of place in the somber hospital room.

He didn't look at Tomoaki Oshima, but instead turned his gaze to the window.

"The weather is pretty bad today, not a good day for flying."

Oshima Tomoaki's heart sank; he knew this was no ordinary visit to a sick person.

"Fujita-kun, the investigation results..."

"The results are in, it wasn't your fault, but you need to apologize." Fujita finally turned around, his face expressionless. "You need to attend the press conference the day after tomorrow to publicly apologize for this accident, for your personal technical errors and improper operation."

In an instant, Tomoaki Oshima felt all the blood rush to his head, and his ears were ringing.

"Sir! You know, it's clearly not my fault! It's the plane! That damn plane is the problem!"

He excitedly propped himself up halfway, his chest heaving violently beneath his hospital gown.

"The communication records in the black box, as well as the flight data and control data before the crash, can all prove that I made no mistakes in my operation!"

Fujita listened quietly, and only after he finished speaking did he slowly take out a box of cigars from his pocket.

"And then?" He clipped the end of his cigar and asked slowly, "Should we announce to the world that what we bought from our allies at great expense was a pile of unusable scrap metal? Or should we say that our best pilots can't even handle a new plane? Oshima, tell me, which one sounds more like a joke?"

Oshima Tomoaki gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead, his lips trembling, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Either of these options is a disgrace to us.

Between two fears, choosing the lesser one seems to be more beneficial to the empire; apologizing himself appears to be more advantageous.

Fujita brought the cigar to his nose and smelled it, seemingly quite satisfied with the aroma: "Oshima-san, you are an ace in the Air Force, our pride. But sometimes, personal honor must give way to the greater good."

"But this is my shame! My lifelong shame!"

Oshima Tomoaki practically spat out those words through clenched teeth, his eyes instantly reddening and brimming with tears.

He really didn't want to be the scapegoat.

"Your colleagues in the Air Force know your skills and character, and no one will really blame you."

Fujita softened his tone slightly, trying to reassure the other person.

"Once the storm passes, you'll still be that ace pilot, and the Empire's skies will still need you to protect them."

He handed over the unlit cigar.

"Oshima-san, do you want to spend the rest of your life in prison, with the young and beautiful Miss Kuwako visiting you through the iron bars every year?"

Sangzi!

The name was like a needle, piercing deeply into Tomoaki Oshima's heart.

"Mr. Oshima, you wouldn't want Ms. Kuwako to have to go to the film set to shoot a movie for the sake of your lovely children, would you?"

Oshima Tomoaki's stiff body instantly straightened up, as if he had been whipped, and all his resentment and anger were forcibly suppressed at this moment.

"Yes! I understand! I'll follow Fujita-kun's instructions!"

"That's right. Here, have one, it's your favorite cigar!"

Fujita smiled slightly and pulled a document from his briefcase.

"This is the draft they prepared for you. Memorize everything: which words to say and which words to avoid."

"Hi!"

Tomoaki Oshima accepted the thin yet heavy manuscript with both hands.

Just as Fujita got up to leave, he suddenly asked another question.

"Fujita-kun, when...when will we fight with the neighbors again?"

Fujita paused at the doorway, then slowly turned around, his narrow eyes gleaming with a hawk-like light in the dim light.

"Yes, it will! It definitely will!" His voice was not loud, but it carried a cold fervor. "The Empire is only lying low for now. Our neighbor is too powerful right now, but even the strongest giant has times of illness and weakness."

"The next time he weakens, we will be like the sharpest, most deadly knife, destroying those guys. In the future, we will make the cherry blossoms of our homeland bloom all over China! In the future, the land where the sun sets will be our new home!"

Oshima Tomoaki's eyes lit up.

"At that time, the shame you suffer today will be washed away by supreme glory! Don't you say so, Oshima-san?"

Fujita's words were like a powerful stimulant, injected into Oshima Tomoaki's almost withered heart.

The tears in his eyes were wiped away, replaced by a fervent flame.

"Hi!"

"For the supreme glory! For the future! I, Tomoaki Oshima, will dedicate myself to the cause until my dying breath!"

"very good."

Fujita nodded in satisfaction, opened the door, and left without looking back.

The ward fell silent once more.

Oshima Tomoaki lit a cigar and took a puff. Then he stared at the manuscript in his hand, every word of which seemed to mock him.

He suddenly gripped the cigar Fujita had given him tightly in his palm, the burning butt digging painfully into his hand.

"Zaruwado!!!" "Just you wait... just you wait! Everything I have suffered today, and all the humiliation I have suffered, I will repay those damned bastards a thousandfold!"

Oshima Tomoaki swore, a fierce light flashing in his eyes!
-

At a base not far from Xiao Rizi Hospital, in Eagle's intelligence analysis office.

Farman pushed open the door and entered with heavy footsteps, slamming a document heavily onto the desk.

“Sir, those engineers at Skunk Works are like rocks in a latrine, stinking and stubborn.” Farman’s tone was full of barely suppressed anger. “They insist that there’s nothing wrong with the 35B, and the shameful ball has been kicked back to our feet again.”

A flash of anger crossed Ladakh's dark face, quickly replaced by an unfathomable calm. He didn't look at the document, but instead stared at Farman and asked, "What did that old hound Fujiwara say?"

“As always, they’re pragmatic and cunning.” Farman loosened his tie. “They agreed to announce that the accident was caused by pilot error. However, they demanded that we permanently reduce our consulting fees by 1.5 percent as compensation for the loss of the aircraft.”

Ladakh's lips twitched.

“Dream on!” he spat out through gritted teeth. “We won’t give you a single penny. Go tell Fujiwara to give up on that idea. Want compensation? Fine, have them submit a new F35B procurement request, doubling the quantity.”

“Yes, sir.” Farman readily agreed, then handed over another new document.

"Sir, this is the data analysis that the technical department just compiled, and there are some... findings."

Ladakh took the document, the cover of which read "Analysis Report on the Airspace Contact Incident One Day Ago".

He turned the pages one by one, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

The report shows that the enemy's Flying Shark fighter jets are no longer fighting a close contest or trying to outmaneuver them, but have become extremely difficult to deal with.

Whether it's instantaneous turning angular velocity or the ultimate sprint after engine acceleration, the data is significantly improved compared to the old files in their database.

What alarmed him even more was the range and payload.

According to the analysis, after engaging in a high-intensity dogfight with the F-35B, the Flying Shark still had the capacity to carry out a long-duration cruise mission before returning to base.

This is completely inconsistent with the data model that should be used for takeoff from the Liaoning aircraft carrier!

When Ladakh saw the line of reasoning marked in red by the technical department, his Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily.

"...The target engine's rear appearance is the same as before...Based on the exhaust flame spectrum analysis, the target engine's performance has improved by at least 15%..."

At least 15%!?
The string of numbers struck him like a heavy hammer blow to the heart.

He irritably threw the report on the table, with the analysis report on how the F-35B was outmatched by the J-20 lying underneath. The two reports, old and new, seemed to be silently mocking him.

Ladakh had to confront a disheartening reality.

More than a decade ago, the Eastern giant that they could easily suppress in the air has now not only stood up, but has even begun to run.

Frustrated, he pulled out a cigar that he said was rolled by a woman from somewhere, cut it open, and lit it.

The acrid smoke made him cough.

"The intelligence agencies say they have roughly found test flight images of the East's new generation of fighter jets. As for our sixth-generation fighter jet, we don't even have any definite information."

Thick smoke billowed from his mouth and nose, obscuring the expression on his face.

"Did they dig up an alien base? This technological upgrade is completely unreasonable!"

Colonel Farman asked in a low voice, "Sir, have they made inquiries at the Octagon?"

“Send the report over; they know how serious this is.” Ladakh stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray. “Tell them, forget about any ten-year projections. At this rate, in five years! At most five years, we’ll be tucked away from this territory!”

Farman saluted and turned to leave.

Dalak was the only one left in the office. He walked to the window and looked at the gloomy sky outside, just like his mood at that moment.

He was of mixed race and served in the military for nearly forty years. He participated in many wars in the Middle East, such as the Gulf War, Iraq War, and Afghanistan War. He witnessed the most glorious era of the Imperial Air Force, bombing the enemy with precision-guided bombs until they were completely disoriented.

But ever since I was transferred here six months ago, every day has felt like walking a tightrope.

Last month, in particular, the opposing fleet conducted "freedom of navigation" operations in the vicinity almost daily, with the frequency of fighter jet takeoffs and landings repeatedly reaching new highs!

Some people trembled with fear, while others swallowed hard in terror.

The sight of the enemy made even this veteran soldier from Ladakh feel a chill run down his spine.

He even had nightmares about missiles bombarding the ground and then a massive wave of troops sweeping over him.

Yes, a flat push.

He can only use this word now to describe the opponent he once looked down upon.

Once air superiority is lost, sea superiority will almost certainly follow.

At that time, the tens of thousands of soldiers on this isolated island will be like turtles in a jar.

With such meager resources, even refueling a tank is a struggle, let alone sustaining a long-term conflict.
What awaits them is only to raise their hands in shame after they run out of ammunition and food.

Just thinking about that scene makes Ladakh feel suffocated.

Supreme glory?

No, that would be a pillar of shame for him and the entire Federation!
Ladakh was so agitated that he left and called his girlfriend.

A stack of US dollars was casually tossed to the other party.

Snapped!
Screams and curses from Ladakh echoed through the room.

"Fuck, you damn bastards, you damn bastards! If you guys had been any more efficient, this would have been such a disgraceful mess!!!"

……

Inside a certain anise-shaped building in the Federation!

Inside the private meeting room, the smoke from the cigars and the somber atmosphere almost seemed to solidify.

"The once-ubiquitous multi-role fighter jet has proven to be a useless piece of junk! Lockheed Martin's masterpiece! Now a disgrace!"

An air force officer with gray hair slammed his hand on the table, making the sugar-free cola on the table buzz loudly.

"You've all seen the report on yesterday's crash into the sea, right? Everyone knows that those lies are completely unbelievable; it wasn't pilot error at all!"

The other person's gaze swept over everyone present, their eyes sharp.

"We all know the skill level of our son's pilots. They're elite, just one step away from becoming our ace!"

No one spoke, which was taken as tacit agreement.

The mouthpieces can shift the blame to the poor, even mocking them for having the same level of skill as the Indians.

But everyone in the room knew perfectly well that the problem lay with Lightning.

What was once a source of pride and everyone's expectations has ultimately turned into a pathetic and laughable money-devouring beast.

The moment the battle report was sent back, technicians near the base confirmed, through remotely collected combat data, that the aircraft itself had a major quality problem, which led to the plane going out of control and crashing.

This conclusion, coupled with the increasingly severe defense pressure from the East, completely infuriated the Air Force and Naval Aviation, who were already full of complaints about the F-35 project.

"Damn Skunk Works! Damn Lockheed Martin! The F-35 is a bottomless pit that devours our military budget!"

Another federal soldier chimed in, his tone full of disgust, "How many problems has it had in the past few years? It was just issued to our allies, and it's already let down in front of the whole world! Whose face is this slapping? It's slapping the face of the Pentagon!"

"Guys! We have enough intelligence to prove that the Easterners are testing their next-generation fighter jet! Our sixth-generation fighter jet program is still stuck on the drawing board! This is dangerous!"

"You've all seen the reports from the front lines. The Ladakh kid's report clearly states that the enemy's Flying Sharks have been upgraded again. Fuck, their engine performance has improved by at least fifteen percent! And that's only been a few years! Fuck, have those damned Easterners obtained alien technology?"

"Gentlemen, our F-22 production line has been shut down by that despicable man, and our skies are becoming increasingly dangerous!"

"Gentlemen, our F-35Bs are no longer gaining any advantage over the J-20! If this continues, the skies over the Pacific will change color!"

In the conference room, a chorus of condemnations erupted, thoroughly vilifying Lockheed Martin.

Of course, anger is anger, and pressure is pressure.

Everyone here is a shrewd individual; immense pressure also means immense opportunity.

Exaggerating the Eastern threat as a matter of routine is their best excuse to extract money from those stingy people in Congress.

We must punish Lockhart!

"We can't let them have a monopoly anymore! Boeing's proposal is also worth considering, and Northrop and Raytheon are both good options. We need to get them involved! We need competition!"

"Once the Easterners make their move, our base, which we have built at great expense, will be easily burned down like Troy! We must start the new project immediately!"

After a heated debate, a consensus was quickly reached—the new aircraft must be put into production immediately.

An urgent document titled "The growing threat from the enemy has begun to shake the eagle's dominance in the skies" was rushed to the White House.

Behind the desk, the drowsy man glanced at it and impatiently handed it to his assistant.

Then he touched a BTS body pillow and gave an innocent smile.

The document was then presented to the lawmakers, immediately sparking a heated discussion.

"A threat! This is an unprecedented threat!"

"Funding is essential! For the security of the Union, money is no object!"

After a heated debate, the conclusion was reached naturally—to allocate more research and development funds to accelerate the development of a new generation of fighter jets in order to cope with the increasingly severe air crisis.

"The initial budget will be at least five billion US dollars, and given the R&D habits of those companies, it will need to be increased to at least 1000 billion US dollars later," an official announced at the meeting.

"So much? Our budget is going to go over budget again!"

“No, why should we take on this responsibility ourselves?” A representative in a suit adjusted his glasses, a shrewd glint in his eyes behind the lenses. “We have allies, and this is to protect their collective security; they should share this responsibility.”

Upon hearing this, the meeting room immediately fell silent, and then everyone revealed knowing smiles.

Soon, a freshly prepared bill and a "request" to share $150 billion in R&D funding were placed on the desks of decision-makers in both the small country and the neighboring South Korea.

Ordinary life, in a certain official residence.

Looking at the astronomical bill, the man fell into a long silence.

"..."

In a South Korean office, after seeing the latest news, the other party's face turned ashen, and the atmosphere became even more deathly silent.

"..."

……

In the modern world, there are sanatoriums for the wounded and sick.

Ankang lay listlessly on the bed, staring blankly out the window.

He's been like this ever since Professor Deng Dakang was transferred to organize intelligence.

Following Professor Deng Dakang, you can chat and boast, and listen to Professor Deng talk about the ever-changing situation on the front lines.

Now that Professor Deng is no longer here, An Kang feels a void in his heart.

He craved the battlefield, the adrenaline rush, rather than wasting his time here like a useless man.

My comrade in the next bed was scrolling through the news on his phone. The sound from the speaker kept coming through, and it seemed to be saying that the F-35 at the front-line base had messed up and suffered a major setback in front of everyone.

"Ha, serves him right!" his comrade muttered under his breath, his tone full of schadenfreude.

An Kang's lips twitched slightly, but he showed little interest.

It's just a plane, it crashed, so what? What does it have to do with him? All he wants to know now is when he can rejoin his team.

"Dinner's ready, guys!"

Head Nurse Sister Sun's loud voice broke the silence of the ward.

Ankang jolted awake, slowly got up, picked up his stainless steel lunchbox, and walked over.

"Sister Sun, what delicious food are we having today?" An Kang leaned over and asked with a smile.

"Baby!" Head Nurse Sun mysteriously lifted the lid of the insulated food cart, and an indescribable aroma instantly filled the air.

The meal was extremely lavish, with several kinds of fish and shrimp glistening enticingly, and several plates of vibrant green vegetables that looked incredibly appetizing.

Sister Sun couldn't help but swallow, lowering her voice to say, "The nutritionist said these ingredients were brought back from another world, incredibly nutritious! They're amazing for healing your wounds. Eat up, everyone. After you finish, the nutritionist will record your data. You're the first in our modern world to try this; you're so lucky!"

An Kang's gaze fell on the dishes, and a thought struck him.

Those few palm-sized fish were almost exactly the same as what Professor Deng had described.

But isn't bok choy just the most common leafy green vegetable in the modern world?
"Sister Sun, was this fish caught from Changhu Lake? And this dish..."

"You have such sharp eyes! The fish are from another world, but the vegetables were grown from modern seeds in another world," Sister Sun said with a smile. "Scientists have already tested them, and these vegetables, after being grown in another world, have a nutritional value several times higher than our top-quality ingredients here! Now, you heroes can enjoy them first."

Ankang's Adam's apple bobbed as he pointed to a grilled fish, a plate of stir-fried vegetables, and a small dish of translucent tofu.

Sister Sun worked quickly and efficiently, precisely distributing the portions for him on the electronic scale, all the while muttering, "Everyone's health data is recorded. How much you eat, how well you're recovering—there have to be detailed reports. From now on, you won't be able to sneak in takeout milk tea anymore!"

The wounded soldiers in the ward had their eyes shining, and they didn't care about anything else, they picked up their lunch boxes and started wolfing down their food.

Ankang picked up a small squid, which was said to be from a long lake in another world, and put it in his mouth.

The squid meat is springy and chewy, almost requiring no chewing before melting into a warm sensation and sliding into the stomach. Immediately afterwards, an indescribable delicious flavor explodes on the taste buds.

With each swallow, the old wound on his chest twitched slightly, but the taste in his mouth was so good that An Kang thoroughly enjoyed it.

"good to eat!"

"Hey, this is fucking delicious!"

Ankang ate with great relish, finishing all the food in his lunchbox. He felt warm and full of energy.

He tidied up the dishes himself, but his gaze involuntarily drifted toward the door of the ward.

He longed to see Professor Deng more than ever, hoping that the stern old man would open the door and say to him, "Ankang, come with me, we have a new mission."

They waited and waited, people came and went at the door, but that familiar figure never appeared.

The flame that had just ignited in Ankang's heart gradually dimmed.

Just as he was about to lie back down on the bed, the door to the ward was suddenly pushed open.

Deng Dakang, wearing a white coat, walked in, holding a document in his hand.

The entire ward fell silent instantly.

The visitor was Professor Deng Dakang.

His gaze swept around the ward, finally settling precisely on An Kang.

"Peace and health."

Professor Deng's voice was not loud, but it carried an undeniable power.

"Get ready to pack your things. Come with me to the mission destination in a few days."

……

A little over a kilometer away, in a heavily guarded restaurant, Li Weiguo was also enjoying this rare delicacy.

The plate in front of him was simple: a small dish of green vegetables and a few pieces of steamed fish.

There was no extra seasoning, and you couldn't even see a few specks of oil.

Li Weiguo picked up a piece of green vegetable, put it in his mouth, and chewed it slowly.

The vegetable stalks were crisp, the leaves were sweet, and a refreshing herbal scent slid down my throat, making me feel much more energetic.

"Things that grow in another world are indeed extraordinary."

He put down his chopsticks, picked up his teacup, and took a sip.

Assistant Xiao Wang, standing to the side, immediately chimed in: "Mr. Li, this is just ordinary bok choy transplanted from the modern world, and the changes it undergoes after being simply accelerated by the humus soil there. The fish from Changhu Lake are the real highlight. Preliminary tests by the nutritionist team show that long-term consumption of fish from Changhu Lake has a comprehensive effect on improving human functions."

Li Weiguo nodded and picked up a piece of fish.

The fish melts in your mouth, and an endless sweetness instantly fills your entire oral cavity, then transforms into a warm current that flows through your limbs and bones.

He felt as if his somewhat tired body was being quietly repaired by this warm current.

Of course, he was more convinced that it was an illusion.

"This is several times more delicious than the top-grade bluefin tuna I've ever had before," Li Weiguo exclaimed sincerely.

"Yes, Mr. Li, these ingredients have almost no fishy or earthy taste, and their quality far surpasses that of any known species on Earth."

Li Weiguo pondered for a moment, then his gaze sharpened: "Such a good product shouldn't just sit in our warehouse. Do we have a commercialization plan in mind?"

"We already have a preliminary idea!" Xiao Wang quickly handed over a document and reported the news.

"The operations department's opinion is that Otherworld Food should first take a high-end approach."

(End of this chapter)