One man's resistance against Japan, I mobilized a million people to aid Shanghai.

"Okay! One year! Just one year!"

Roosevelt's voice regained its decisiveness.

"Dr. Oppenheimer, from this moment forward, the Manhattan Project will be renamed the Doomsday Clock Project."

"You have the highest priority and can utilize any personnel, resources, and equipment in this country that you deem fit!"

"I will personally clear away all obstacles for you, whether they are legal, ethical, or related to the needs of other departments!"

"I only care about the results!"

"I hope I can see results as soon as possible."

"but,"

He abruptly changed the subject, his tone becoming unusually serious.

"The plan must be kept absolutely secret, more secret than ever before."

"Washington...and even the entire East Coast may no longer be safe."

Oppenheimer was startled:

"Mr. President, what do you mean?"

"Zhu Ganglie's abilities are beyond our comprehension."

Roosevelt's voice was deep, "He can make troops appear out of thin air at Pearl Harbor, appear in downtown San Francisco..."

"Who can guarantee he won't appear near our lab? Around the scientists involved in the project? Even... in our minds?"

The last sentence carries a subtle hint of neuroticism.

"From this moment forward, the research site for the Doomsday Clock project must be relocated immediately."

"Move to a completely secret location."

Roosevelt stared at Oppenheimer. "And this location, you chose it yourself."

"Don't tell me, and don't tell anyone else the specific coordinates."

"You take an absolutely loyal, rigorously vetted team, along with the necessary research personnel and core data, and the car disappears."

Oppenheimer was so shocked he couldn't speak.

The president is essentially taking a huge gamble, placing the nation's last hope entirely on himself, and cutting off almost all regular communication and oversight.

"Do not have any contact with Washington until the thing is built."

"I will arrange a top-secret, one-way emergency communication channel that can only be used in the most extreme circumstances."

Roosevelt continued, each word seemingly spoken with all his might.

"In this country you see now, it's impossible to distinguish who is a friend, who is an enemy, and who... may have been infiltrated or influenced by that strange force."

"Even I can't tell who's human...who's ghost."

Oppenheimer felt the weight on his shoulders suddenly become incredibly heavy, almost crushing him.

This is not only a scientific responsibility, but also a matter of national survival.

"Mr. President... this..." he said with difficulty.

"You have no choice, Doctor."

Roosevelt interrupted him, his gaze complex, "Neither did I."

"The survival of the bald eagle, the future of the civilized world, all rest on your shoulders."

He pushed the wheelchair closer to Oppenheimer and said in a voice that could be heard by only the two of them:

"Go find a desolate place, a place not marked on a map, a place that even God might overlook."

"Bring the people you need, just like... just like building Noah's Ark."

"When the floods sweep across the world, your ark will carry the last spark of resistance."

Oppenheimer stood there, stunned, processing this overwhelming burden of responsibility.

After a long while, he finally nodded with utmost seriousness.

"I understand, Mr. President."

"I will do my best."

There were no grand pronouncements, only a weighty promise.

Roosevelt gave him a deep look, as if he wanted to etch this scientist, who carried the last hope, into his mind.

Then he waved his hand, signaling the end of the conversation.

Oppenheimer bowed slightly again, turned around, and, guided by the agents, quietly left.

In the secret room, Roosevelt was alone again.

"My God..."

He murmured softly, his voice filled with endless weariness.

"If you still have any affection for this land... please bless Oppenheimer... please bless... America."

......

London, 10 Downing Street, the Prime Minister's study.

Prime Minister Chamberlain sat behind his large mahogany desk, holding the long telegram from Washington in his hand.

His fingers were cold and trembling slightly, so much so that the edges of the paper made a faint rustling sound.

His usually reserved face was now bloodless, his muscles stiff, and his eyes behind his glasses were fixed on every word of the telegram, as if he wanted to devour them whole.

Pearl Harbor...gone?

The Pacific Fleet... was completely captured?

150,000 American troops... dead or missing?

Zhu Ganglie...has already taken control of Honolulu?!

Each short sentence was like a heavy hammer, slamming into his heart and making him feel suffocated.

He once thought that Zhu Ganglie was just a troublesome warlord in the Far East, and that even if he achieved a great victory in Manila, it was just taking advantage of a weakness.

As soon as the Royal Navy arrives in Southeast Asia, Zhu Ganglie will immediately reveal his true colors and be tortured to death by himself.

But now... the Bald Eagle, that industrial giant, that he regarded as his most reliable ally, has been completely wiped out by Zhu Ganglie right on his own doorstep.

What does this mean?

This means that Zhu Ganglie was not only able to win on the ground and in coastal battles, but he was also invincible even on the other side of the ocean thousands of miles away.

So, what about the Royal Navy's proud Far East Fleet, Home Fleet, and even its colonies and naval bases all over the world...?

Wouldn't they all become defenseless targets in his presence?

Chamberlain felt a violent wave of dizziness and had to release the telegram and press his hands firmly against the table to keep himself from losing his composure.

He seemed to see a terrifying scene.

Countless grey soldiers emerged from the mist over the Thames near the Tower of London, from the shadows of the dockyards in Portsmouth Naval Base, and even from the garden lawns of Buckingham Palace...

It surged forth out of nowhere, like a silent tide, engulfing everything.

"No...this can't be...there must be some mistake..."

He muttered to himself unconsciously, his voice hoarse.

"Your Excellency the Prime Minister!"

An urgent call pulled Chamberlain back from his terrifying delusions.

He looked up and saw David, the Bald Eagle's ambassador to Britain. This usually debonair diplomat was now striding into his study, his face no longer able to maintain its usual composure, but filled with anxiety and even a hint of despair.

"Ambassador David..."

Chamberlain tried to make his voice sound steady, but it still trembled.

"Your Excellency Prime Minister, I believe you have already received an urgent notification from Washington."

David even skipped most of the diplomatic formalities, speaking in a hurried tone.

"The situation is far more serious than described in the telegram!"

"Zhu Ganglie... that demon, the power he wields has completely exceeded any of our previous assessments!"

He walked to Chamberlain's desk, placed his hands on the surface, leaned forward, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"He can ignore space and distance! He can ignore all our defense systems and intelligence networks! He can magically deploy thousands of troops to wherever he wants to go!"

"Pearl Harbor is proof!"

"If he can do that to Pearl Harbor, then London, Liverpool, Mumbai, Sydney... all our important cities and bases will be wide open to him!"

"The President instructed me to convey to you immediately: Zhu Ganglie is no longer a regional threat in the Far East; he is an enemy of the entire civilized world!"

"His ambitions extend far beyond Asia! He used poison gas on the Japanese islands, massacred cities in Southeast Asia, and now he's attacked Pearl Harbor!"

"This is a butcher and destroyer with no moral compass!"

He took a deep breath, emphasized his words, and almost pleaded:

"Your Excellency Prime Minister, now is not the time for hesitation or reservation! The free world must unite and exert all its strength!"

"I implore you to immediately increase the scale of the expeditionary force dispatched to the Far East! Accelerate the reorganization and deployment of the fleet!"

"We will mobilize some of our defense forces in the Middle East, Africa, and even on our own soil to prioritize addressing threats from the East!"

"We must take advantage of the fact that he has not yet fully digested the spoils of Pearl Harbor, and has not yet turned his attention entirely to the West, to wage a decisive battle against him in the Far East, in a place as far away from our homeland as possible!"

"Otherwise...otherwise, once he controls the Pacific, his next target could very well be the Mughals, or even...Europe itself!"

David's words came like a machine gun, each one striking Chamberlain's most vulnerable nerves.

The prospect he described coincided with, and was even more urgent than, Chamberlain's own fears.

Chamberlain's lips moved as he looked at David's anxious and nearly collapsing face, his mind racing.

Should we increase the intensity of expeditions?

The forces meant to defend the homeland and the lifeblood of the British Empire were instead thrown into that bottomless pit in the Far East.

To face an enemy that can "teleport an army out of thin air"?

This doesn't sound like seeking victory; it sounds more like suicide.

But he couldn't refuse outright.

The Bald Eagle is currently the only force that can still be relied upon to oppose Zhu Ganglie, and he cannot betray his allies at this time, at least not on the surface.

"Ambassador David,"

Chamberlain finally found his voice: "Please convey to President Roosevelt that I, along with the government and people of the British Empire, express our deepest condolences and sympathies for the tragedy that has occurred at Pearl Harbor."

"This is a huge loss to the civilized world."

He paused, struggling to find the right words:

"We share the same understanding as your country regarding the threat posed by the demon Zhu Ganglie."

"Rest assured, the British Empire will not back down at this moment."

"We will...we will do everything possible to expedite the preparations for the expeditionary force and the transportation of supplies, and strengthen intelligence and strategic coordination with your country..."

He spoke in high-sounding diplomatic rhetoric that lacked concrete commitment.

David clearly sensed the perfunctory tone in the reply, and a hint of disappointment and deeper anxiety flashed in his eyes.

But he also knew that pushing too hard at this moment might backfire.

After exchanging a few more hurried words, emphasizing the "extreme urgency" of the situation, David left 10 Downing Street with a heavy heart, as he still had to lobby other departments and allies.

However, Chamberlain had other ideas after David left.