Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

"Snapped!"

As the guards pressed the switch, the Zhongnanhai conference room, which determined the fate of the nation, was instantly plunged into complete darkness.

Only the black iron box that Shen Jinghong had placed at the end of the table emitted a slight "humming" sound.

Followed by.

A snow-white, condensed, and exceptionally stable beam of light, like a sharp sword piercing the sky, burst forth from the lens and struck the white wall opposite.

There was no flickering.

It also lacks the annoying noise and frame skipping of old-fashioned film cameras.

The image was so clear it was like a window had been opened in the wall, and on the other side of the window was another real world.

"Whoa!"

In the darkness, a series of synchronized gasps rang out.

Several veteran marshals instinctively leaned forward, not even noticing the cigarette butts burning their fingers. The picture quality, the colors—it was at least ten times clearer than the color films sent by our Soviet big brother!

"Gentlemen, please be seated."

Shen Jinghong stood in the interplay of light and shadow, lightly tapping the wall with his pointer, his voice carrying the exhilarating feeling of a grand curtain being drawn back:

"For the first match, let's look at the infantry."

The screen flashed.

The previously still screen suddenly came to life.

Accompanied by rousing and exhilarating background music, a small squad dressed in Volunteer Army uniforms but equipped with extremely "futuristic" gear appeared on screen.

What they held in their hands were no longer the Type 38 rifles with only five bullets, nor those heavy old-fashioned pistols.

All of them were black, short and compact automatic rifles.

That's a heavily modified version of the Type 56 assault rifle.

"Da da da da da—!!!"

In the video, a young soldier is seen firing a gun at a target in front of him.

The muzzle flash was a foot long, and the golden bullet casings splattered out like a fountain, shimmering with a mesmerizing luster in the sunlight.

That wasn't shooting.

That's splashing water.

That was a metal storm.

Under the dense hail of bullets, the brick wall in the distance crumbled and collapsed like tofu dregs, instantly turning into dust.

"These...these are our soldiers?"

General Peng suddenly stood up, his eyes fixed on the image on the wall, his breathing rapid as if he were working a bellows.

He fought wars his whole life, and his biggest dream was to equip every soldier under his command with a bolt-action rifle.

But the thing in the picture was even more powerful than the one in his dream!

"This is called the Type 56 automatic rifle."

Shen Jinghong's voice rang out at the opportune moment, calm and precise:

"Magazine capacity: 30 rounds; theoretical rate of fire: 600 rounds per minute; effective range: 400 meters."

"With it, the firepower of our platoon can suppress an entire American platoon. What carbine, what Garand? In front of it, they're just sticks for burning."

Before the generals could fully process this shock, the scene shifted again.

The background music became heavy and powerful, like the beating of war drums.

The camera zooms out.

On a vast wasteland, thirty enormous steel behemoths stood in neat rows.

The thick cannon barrel pointed straight to the sky, and the huge tire was taller than a person.

A group of 155mm heavy howitzers.

"Ready—Fire!"

In the picture, a red flag is waving.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Thirty giant cannons roared simultaneously.

In that instant, the screen seemed to tremble. The orange-red muzzle storm merged into a sea of ​​fire, and the enormous recoil made the earth shake.

The camera switches to the target area.

A mountaintop a few kilometers away was instantly engulfed by countless exploding fireballs.

Soil, gravel, and trees were thrown dozens of meters into the air by the violent blast wave.

When the smoke cleared, that hilltop...

It's even.

It was literally shaved off by three meters!

"hiss--"

In the conference room, gasps of shock echoed throughout.

An old general in charge of artillery was so excited that he was trembling all over. The lid of the teacup in his hand fell to the table with a "clatter" and shattered.

"This...this is our cannon?"

"This power is many times stronger than the Japanese heavy artillery! Even the American 105mm howitzer is just a large mortar compared to this thing!"

"That's right."

Shen Jinghong drew a circle on the screen with her pointer, encircling the hilltop that had been leveled:

"This is a 155mm heavy artillery piece with a range of 23 kilometers. The shells are filled with high-energy explosives; once fired, within a radius of fifty meters, no one or any animal will be spared."

"We don't charge for these cannons by the cannon."

He turned around, looked at the pairs of frighteningly bright eyes in the darkness, and held up three fingers:

"We'll calculate based on the number of groups."

"The Shenzhou Bureau's current inventory is enough to equip all three of our army corps with this kind of heavy firepower!"

"Three army corps?!"

President Peng felt as if his heart had been struck hard by a hammer.

He originally thought that Shen Jinghong could only produce a few dozen items at most.

Three army corps? What does that even mean?

Those are hundreds of heavy cannons!

That was a torrent of steel powerful enough to blast any American division across the Yalu River into dust!

"This...this doesn't look like war!"

An elderly general muttered to himself, his eyes filled with disbelief and bewilderment, "This is simply...this is science fiction!"

It is indeed a science fiction film.

For these generals who were used to "millet plus rifles" and "five bullets per person," this level of firepower was simply beyond their wildest imagination.

It's like a beggar who's been poor his whole life suddenly being told that not only do you no longer have to beg, but you're also the richest person in the world, and you can throw gold bricks at people.

The stark contrast was enough to send chills down your spine.

"Don't rush, there's more to come."

Shen Jinghong smiled slightly and pressed the remote control.

The scene then changes.

This time, the camera was pointed at the sky.

A silver lightning bolt ripped across the azure sky.

The streamlined fuselage and swept-back wings reflected a dazzling metallic gleam in the sunlight.

What's most exhilarating is that bright red five-pointed stars and the eye-catching "August 1st" logo are prominently painted on the silver wings and fuselage!

Those are China's fighter jets!

"Whoosh—"

The fighter jets roared past, so fast that even the camera could barely keep up.

It performed a beautiful barrel roll in the air, then pulled up sharply, soaring into the sky and leaving a white contrail behind it.

That domineering aura that pierced the sky, that sense of speed that surpassed everything, made everyone present involuntarily hold their breath.

"This is……"

An air force general suddenly stood up.

He is Liu Yalou (the prototype of the Air Force Commander).

He stared intently at the strange plane on the screen, his eyes practically glued to the wall.

Having spent his entire life dealing with airplanes, he immediately recognized that this plane was unusual.

There is no propeller.

The nose of the aircraft is empty, resembling a gaping mouth.

And that speed... it was too fast! It was ridiculously fast!

"What kind of plane is that?"

Liu Yalou's voice became shrill with extreme shock. He pointed at the frozen image, his fingers trembling:

"Where's its propeller? Where's its engine? Why can it fly so fast?"

"This is not scientific! This is simply... a monster!"

Shen Jinghong pressed the pause button.

The image freezes on the moment when the F-86 Sabre fighter jet takes off with its head held high.

The silver fuselage and red five-pointed star exuded a chilling, deadly allure in the dark conference room, a power known as "the pinnacle of industry."

"Commander Liu, you're not mistaken."

Shen Jinghong put down his pointer, walked into the light, and pushed up his glasses.

His face had lost its previous arrogance, replaced by an extremely professional calmness and a sense of pride as a Chinese military engineer.

"It really doesn't have a propeller."

"Because it doesn't need to."

"This is a... jet fighter."