American Evil God, starting with the American rebel leader raising poisonous insects.

The fluorescent lights in the basement were humming.

Carl Jensen and James Jones stood in front of an open tactical map, its edges weighed down by several empty magazines.

The air smelled musty and like metal polish.

"We will win."

Carl said.

James didn't look up, but drew a circle on the map with his finger around the location of River Harbor Town.

"The town is too small."

He says,

"It stretches less than five miles east to west and three and a half miles north to south. Fortunately, most of the buildings are former factories, and most are brick and stone structures."

He paused, picked up a pencil from the side, and drew several arrows on the outskirts of the town.

"Our men are spread across three city blocks, relying on warehouses, churches, and abandoned factories. There are thirty-seven firing positions on the defensive line, with two to three men at each position."

Carl listened.

"Ammunition reserves."

James continued,

"Each person received an average of 400 rifle rounds and 120 pistol rounds."

"Shotgun ammunition is relatively scarce, about sixty rounds per person. In terms of heavy firepower, we have four M249s and two M2s, with ammunition stockpiles of three thousand and one thousand five hundred respectively. We also have twelve rocket launchers, each equipped with two rounds."

He put down his pencil and looked at Carl.

"Supplies. Food is enough for three days, water for two days. Medical supplies, basic hemostasis and bandaging are sufficient, surgical instruments and blood plasma are not lacking, but there are not enough doctors."

silence.

The fluorescent light cast deep shadows on James' face.

He was in his fifties, with a thick neck and arms covered in scars and faded tattoos.

"I am an active-duty military officer."

He says,

"Michigan, Muskegon Army Reserve Base. Armory access: I can call upon 1,200 small arms, 40,000 rounds of ammunition, and two M60A3 tanks. That's all."

He turned around, took a folder from the metal cabinet next to him, and opened it.

"I've contacted several local army commanders. They're all observing. If the National Guard doesn't win the first wave, there won't be any more reinforcements."

James closed the folder.

"If we lose."

"I won't die. At most, I'll be discharged from the military by a military court and might get a few years in prison, but I'll still be alive."

He looked at Carl.

"Those brothers who came with me, they will fall. They'll work themselves to death in prison, or die on the battlefield."

Carl did not look away.

"We will win."

He spoke, holding the cross in his hand.

"In the name of the Lord?"

Bob James reached out and grabbed it.

"In the name of the Lord."

Karl began to speak.

James nodded and pulled a metal box from the bottom of the metal cabinet.

The box was small, grayish-green, and printed with Russian letters and radiation warning signs.

He opened the box; inside were documents and blueprints.

"Remember that giant nuclear bomb that came in? The gun-type nuclear bomb."

James picked up a blueprint.

"Equivalent to 2,000 tons. Soviet goods, which flowed out from Eastern Europe in the early 1990s."

He took out the blueprints and laid them out next to the tactical map.

"The problem lies in the deployment."

James pointed to the tail fin section on the drawing.

"This bomb was designed for the Tu-16 bomber. We don't have a suitable bomber."

He paused.

"Moreover, this is a gun-type structure, so it cannot be set to detonate remotely or via timer. It must be dropped from the air and detonated at a predetermined altitude."

Karl looked at the blueprints.

"So we must win."

James said,

"We need to win this battle to have leverage. The military has B-52s in stock, but it requires theater-level authorization to deploy them. Or..."

He paused.

"The Ford family has a B-52 in Detroit, a museum piece, but the engine and bombing system were maintained ten years ago, so it can theoretically still fly."

He looked at Carl.

"We must win this game in order to borrow the plane or get the authorization."

James took two metal cylinders out of the box, unscrewed them, and poured out their contents.

Three keys and a plastic card.

"This is the key to the physical lock."

He pointed to two of them,

"The bomb casing has two locks that need to be turned simultaneously. This card is the authorization key for the detonation circuit; a six-digit code must be entered within thirty seconds of inserting it."

He pushed the keys and cards to Carl.

"This is the password."

Carl took it and held it in his hand.

The key was cold.

"If the Lord's grace can withstand a nuclear explosion, you can give it a try."

James said.

Carl put the keys and card into his pocket.

"understood."

Washington, D.C., West Wing of the Black House.

The room was covered with a gold carpet, and the walls were adorned with gilded wall lamps.

The screen was lit up, playing excerpts from a speech at the river port town square.

Carl Jensen's face filled the frame.

"Why are you making a scene now?"

The Golden Emperor Milk Dragon, known for its reliability, sat in a high-backed chair, holding a tablet in his hand.

On the screen is Noah AI's interactive interface, where lines of text are being generated, praising his "strategic vision" in his latest tariff policy.

He swiped away the video notification and pursed his lips.

"How can something like this spread so widely!"

A trade war extortion that just ended.

Whether America made a profit or not, she won anyway, and he also profited.

Feeling relaxed, I'm enjoying the sweet flattery from the AI.

The live stream chat was still scrolling, with 370,000 people watching online.

Where is Wan Xinru?!

He raised his voice.

Footsteps sounded outside the door, and Huameilang pushed the door open and came in.

"gentlemen?"

"Suppress this hype."

The reliable guy pointed at the screen.

"Okay, thank you, sir."

The thrush nodded, quickly made a note, and then hurried away.

He lay back in his chair, his feet resting on the table.

"I know what you want."

He murmured to himself while looking at the screen.

"But you guys are useless."

The blond man, whose hair was turning gray, suddenly laughed.

"But it's fine too. If it gets out of hand, it'll give my soldiers some practice."

"Speaking of which..."

A thought flashed through my mind, just as I was about to do something.

"Y~M~C~A~"

The presidential plane next to them lit up.

Caller ID: Edward Te is reliable.

He pressed the answer button and brought the tablet to his ear.

"Feed?"

Seattle underground.

Qian Liren's consciousness floated in the data stream.

Noah AI's sensor network has access to civilian surveillance cameras, mobile phone signal base stations, and even real-time footage of several police drones being hijacked around Hegang Town.

He saw the crowd in the square, the close-up of the scar on Carl Jensen's palm, and the collective straightening of the backs as the dark red ripples swept across the three thousand people.

"Is this an apostle of heresy?"

Qian Liren's consciousness caused a ripple in the server matrix.

He was certain.

The changes in Karl were not the product of technology, not genetic modification, and not any known physical intervention.

That's something else.

This is different from the power he gained by merging with Noah's AI through [flesh and blood].

It was an external, imposed power, carrying a certain primal and violent aura.

heresy.

But he didn't make a move.

He even used Noah AI's social media influence algorithm to push the live stream to more potential interested groups.

Keywords: "miracle", "saints", "rebellion".

And issue instructions in the data stream:

[To boost trending topics, use the following tags: #SecondAmendment #FreedomOfReligion #PeopleAwakening]

"Now that you've spoken out,"

Qian Liren's consciousness whispered in the sea of ​​data.

"Then you'd better draw my fire."

On Alexander Biotech's servers, the "Messiel" project is running.

AI has initially constructed interaction models for twelve major organ systems and is currently working on optimizing telomere elongation and autophagy.

He needs more time.

The Alexander family is needed as the front man to acquire more experimental equipment, more advanced neural interfaces, and larger computing power clusters.

Noah AI is also rapidly iterating and absorbing the constantly emerging information, but it will still take some time before it reaches the level it desires.

At that time...

"Show your strength!"

Qian Liren's attention returned to the footage of Hegang Town.

"Let me see what the so-called power of the Lord is really like."

After all, if he wants to become a god, he must understand God.

Even a heretical god.

He is still a god.