1950s: After transmigrating into a capitalist, I relied on military industry to achieve a comeback.

"Do you know what that means?" Director Zhang's voice began to tremble.

"That thing doesn't need a fixed launch silo! They'll cramm it into a submarine, drop it hundreds of meters below the seabed, and it'll be a ghost that nobody can find! It has a range of 4,600 kilometers, and it's topped with three independently targetable nuclear warheads!"

"If they wanted, this blackfish could just lie there in our southeastern high seas. Our cities, factories, and hundreds of millions of people wouldn't even have time to sound the alarm before they're all under their sights!"

The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees after those words were spoken.

Lin Jiaoyue didn't exclaim in surprise; instead, a cold stern look, as if she had expected this, appeared in her almond-shaped eyes.

The course of history ultimately followed the predetermined gears. The shift from land-based nuclear deterrence to sea-based covert strikes was an inevitable strategic leap for superpowers.

"It's not just in the sea," Lin Jiaoyue said, looking at him. "Shouldn't the spy satellites in the sky be forming a network by now?"

Director Zhang looked up abruptly, his eyes wide with shock: "How did you know?"

"It's just a routine simulation." Lin Jiaoyue's tone was calm, but every word was like a knife. "With sea-based missiles, we need space-based networks as eyes. Otherwise, they won't be able to hit accurately."

"You guessed absolutely right!" Director Zhang slammed his fist on the table, making the plates bounce.

"Just a few days ago, we launched a weather satellite in the Northwest. Less than three hours after launch, they photographed it and couldn't even find a single screw! We're like standing naked under their searchlights!"

He stared intently at Lin Jiaoyue, like a drowning person looking at the last piece of driftwood.

"Jiaoyue. Three years ago, you said our foundation wasn't solid and we needed to recover first. Well, in these three years, we've fully recovered! Steel is piling up in the warehouses! Money, the Ministry of Foreign Trade can allocate! As for talent, all those apprentices and their successors from your advanced training program have now matured!"

He suddenly stood up and shoved the top-secret document, sealed with wax, onto the table in front of Lin Jiaoyue.

"Now, the foundation is solid."

"Tell me. Our 'Dragon King,' capable of diving into the deep sea to hunt blackfish, the upgraded version of the 'Sky Shield,' capable of swatting all the flies down from the sky, and our own large destroyers..."

His Adam's apple bobbed violently. "Now, can we start?"

His voice trembled, filled with long-suppressed desire and anticipation.

The only sound in the room was the clicking of the clock on the wall.

Lin Jiaoyue sat there without moving. Her gaze slowly moved down, landing on the rough kraft paper bag. Her fingertips reached out and touched the cold, hard sealing wax.

These three years of mundane, carefree life seemed to vanish the moment her fingertips touched the sealing wax. What awaited her was a technological war far larger and more insane than "Project 541," one that could even overturn the entire world order.

But she had no other choice.

Because national treasures are never toys to be flaunted while resting on past glories.

Without your own sword, you can only watch helplessly as others point their guns recklessly at the heads of your parents and comrades.

She pulled the paper bag in front of her, slammed her thumb down on the seal, making a sickeningly sharp "rip" sound.

Without hesitation, without backing down.

She raised her head, and the fervor emanating from her usually languid eyes once again gathered into a chilling sharpness.

"Can."

She met Director Zhang's burning gaze and spoke slowly and deliberately.

When Lin Jiaoyue said "yes," Director Zhang's weathered face instantly lit up with a pure, childlike joy.

He slapped his thigh, so excited he almost jumped off the bench.

"Good! Good! Good!"

After saying "good" three times, he still wasn't satisfied and started pacing back and forth in the main room.

He rose too quickly and too violently, and the solid wood stool behind him was hit by his bent leg, crashing heavily onto the blue brick ground with a loud "bang," rolling a long way away.

But he didn't even glance at it. His thick-soled military leather shoes pounded on the bricks, making a dull thud, just like a bear that had just been released from its cage.

Hearing the loud noise, like "house being torn down," from the backyard, Su Wanqing shouted irritably through the door:

"Director Zhang, please sit down and rest after you finish your meal! Don't break my floor tiles or rip my roof off while you're at it!"

"Don't worry, sister-in-law, it's on me if you break it!" Director Zhang replied in a loud voice without turning his head. "Old Lin, I'll get you a new one later!"

There was no response from the backyard.

Clearly, Lin Hongsheng and Su Wanqing knew his words were worthless. If Director Zhang were truly busy, he probably wouldn't even have time to worry about changing the floor tiles, let alone which way his own front door faced.

He walked around the third lap as if riding on wheels of fire, then bent down, picked up the round stool with one hand, and put it back down with a "bang," before sitting back down opposite Lin Jiaoyue.

The heat from before was still there, but he forcefully suppressed it. He pressed his hands on the table and leaned forward slightly.

"I knew it... I knew you weren't one to sit still! So, tell me, who do you want to mess with this time?"

He licked his slightly chapped lips, his voice low but carrying a hint of ruthlessness.

"Is it the 'Dongfeng-2' with a longer range? Or an upgraded version of the 'Sky Shield' that can go into space? Or perhaps that... 'Dragon King' that can go underwater and catch blackfish?"

When he said the last two words, he lowered his voice, as if he were talking about some incredible secret.

"Any one of these three projects would be enough to make those old comrades in the Central Military Commission eat two extra bowls of rice. If you take on all three at once, I'll go back right now and make room for you."

However, Lin Jiaoyue ignored his grand pronouncements, picked up the enamel mug beside her, and slowly took a sip of warm water. Then, she gently shook her head.

"Neither."

Director Zhang's interlaced fingers suddenly froze.

"Neither?"

"Um."

His brow furrowed, his back slumped back, and he even held his breath.

"Not even one? You just nodded and said you could build them!"

"When I said it was possible to build, I didn't mean to build these large components right now."

"Then what do you want to build?" Director Zhang asked anxiously. "Besides missiles, radar, and nuclear submarines, what else can solve our immediate crisis better than these three?"

Lin Jiaoyue did not rush to answer.

She placed the teacup on the table and reached for the brown paper bag sealed with sealing wax. The bag was firmly stuck to the wax; she tried to pry it open with her thumb but couldn't. So she simply picked up the paper cutter on the table and made a cut along the seal.

The paper tore open, and the documents inside slid out.

On the left is information about the "Polaris" missile, and on the right are black-and-white photographs and analysis reports of spy satellites. The pages are folded very flat, with no curling at the edges, clearly indicating that they have been read repeatedly.

At the bottom were several blank report sheets.

Director Zhang craned his neck to take a look.

"Is this the test paper the Central Military Commission gave you?" Lin Jiaoyue asked.

"This is called a blank check." Director Zhang took a deep breath. "The higher-ups have said that as long as you dare to write it and can keep the situation under control, you can name your terms."

"How do I spend the money if there's no amount written on the check?"

"Just write the project down, and the money will come naturally. Even if it means selling everything we own, we will never hold you back."

"This deal sounds like a good deal," Lin Jiaoyue replied casually.

He pushed the intelligence aside, took out a fountain pen, dipped it in ink, and wrote four large, flamboyant characters at the top of a blank sheet of paper.

Director Zhang curiously leaned closer, and when he saw those four words clearly, he was completely stunned.

"Dragon...core...one?"