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Chapter 496 - Chapter 496: Ding Yi: “Foolish children! Run—!!”

Chapter 496: Ding Yi: "Foolish children! Run—!!"

  "Who does that guy think he is to talk to us like that!"

  One of the fleet officers cursed angrily.

  "Exactly. He just scavenged some junk and slapped together a slightly bigger ship, and now he dares look down on us? We've got two thousand warships!"

  "Chairman, committee members, I suspect they aren't even standing on humanity's side. After the Trisolaran civilization surrenders, we must confiscate their ship and weaponry at once."

  Another high-ranking fleet officer spoke up furiously.

  "They're clearly trying to seize power. What kind of nonsense 'logic of survival'? Whoever's fist is stronger has the right to survive? If the Universal Megacorp is really that capable, why don't they head out beyond the Solar System and intercept the Trisolaran fleet? Ridiculous!"

  "With just that one busted ship, they think they can take over human civilization? Utter fantasy. If they succeed, wouldn't that mean anyone who hijacks a single stellar-class warship can start their own kingdom?"

  It was obvious that Paul had already become the target of hostility and resentment from everyone present. Whatever friendliness the fleet leadership had shown toward the Universal Megacorp earlier had completely evaporated.

  In the eyes of the Fleet International executives, the Megacorp was nothing more than a nouveau riche coming back to flaunt their wealth. Aid to Earth was just a pretext; their real goal was grabbing power and territory!

  While everyone was noisily debating how to punish the Megacorp, the Asian Fleet's representative lowered his head in silent thought. He saw in Paul the shadow of Zhang Beihai.

  The two men were very much alike.

  What they had done was almost impossible to understand in the present. No one could prove they were right. Yet, for some reason, the Asian Fleet's representative had a strange feeling in his heart.

  That perhaps what Paul said really might come true…

  That they would fail, and the Trisolaran probes would bypass Jupiter and head straight for Earth!

  …

  …

  After returning to the Infinity-class carrier, Paul immediately went to check on Agent Leon's injuries.

  Luckily, thanks to the Megacorp's advanced biological repair fields, Leon had already made a full recovery and was now in convalescence. It wouldn't be long before he could resume missions.

  With the Megacorp's current level of genetic biotechnology, guarding against sophon-designed genetic warheads was hardly difficult.

  But sophons weren't the trickiest problem—the real problem was the Asian Fleet keeping them under tight surveillance.

  No fewer than seven hundred stellar-class warships had returned from Jupiter Base to Earth orbit, circling the Infinity-class carrier like vultures. If the carrier made even the slightest move, those warships would attack.

  Clearly, Paul's words at the Fleet International meeting had enraged many officers and leaders. They had ordered heightened vigilance against the Infinity.

  Now, the seven hundred stellar-class ships had formed a formation like some arcane magical array, trapping the carrier at its center. Paul, however, remained utterly unbothered.

  If they truly wanted to break out, those ships were no match. The armor plating of neutron star material alone could smash through those fragile paper tigers.

  But he had no need to do so—because a great show was about to begin.

  On board the Infinity, Paul was reporting the situation to Morgan Blackhand. After hearing about Paul's statements, Morgan asked him:

  "You knew your words would provoke them. Why did you do it?"

  Morgan thought Paul had been acting on impulse. They could have kept a lower profile, waiting until after the Doomsday Battle to make a dramatic entrance.

  But now, thanks to Paul's approach, their position had become more troublesome.

  To help Paul carry out his mission more effectively, Li Ang had deliberately sent Morgan Blackhand to take over operations on the Infinity. Once the carrier's location was exposed, it would inevitably be monitored by sophons.

  Every signal they transmitted back to War Moon Headquarters would be intercepted, even traced back to the hidden megastructure itself.

  Therefore, the upcoming missions had to be executed jointly by Morgan Blackhand and Paul.

  "This is part of the plan."

  Paul locked eyes with Morgan. If his psionic powers hadn't vanished, he could have sent his thoughts silently through telepathic transmission.

  But now he couldn't—so all he had were his eyes.

  Since Executive Li Ang had already granted him the authority of the Megacorp's First Wallfacer, his mission was to play the fool, lure the Trisolaran fleet to the Solar System's edge, and capture the Droplet.

  And, along the way, take over the entire administration of human civilization.

  Until the mission was complete, Headquarters needed to stay as quiet as possible—silent observation only. Their task was to carry it out calmly.

  To trick the Trisolarans and capture their Droplet, there was no other way.

  …

  At this moment, the joint North American and European fleets had drawn close to the Trisolaran probe, preparing to intercept it in Jupiter's orbital zone.

  The fleet array was densely packed, as neat as a chessboard—something usually seen only at military parades.

  Normally, patrol formation required a distance of five hundred kilometers between warships. Here, it was a mere twenty-five. That was practically like ships sailing side by side on an ocean.

  Such closeness made accidents almost inevitable. Quick withdrawal was impossible.

  Ships were packed on every side—turning around would take half a day and risk collision.

  This glaring error had naturally drawn scorn from many commanders. But the real reason for it was to ensure every warship had a chance to "take part" in the battle.

  Over a thousand warships were converging on a target less than ten meters long. The scene itself was absurd. If they had used a proper combat formation, the ships on the edges would have been tens of thousands of kilometers away. If fighting really broke out, those ships would never make it into range in time—a regret they would bear forever.

  To give every ship its chance to engage and to maintain the grand spectacle, only one method remained: compress the formation into an ultra-dense cluster so every stellar-class warship was within firing range.

  This way, they could produce an overwhelming visual impact and satisfy every fleet's psychological desire to fight the aliens.

  In truth, Fleet International didn't take the Trisolaran probe seriously at all. This battle was more a political showcase than a real fight.

  To them, it was the perfect opportunity to show off. The Trisolaran main fleet was still two light-years away—there was no danger at all.

  But when this scene reached War Moon Headquarters, Li Ang could only shake his head.

  Fleet International was openly provoking the Trisolarans.

  Back in the day, Sun Quan had led a hundred thousand troops to Hefei. Right in front of Zhang Liao, he strutted along the riverbank with his guards, showing off. Zhang Liao then led eight hundred men in a charge that nearly cost Sun Quan his life at Hefei.

Now, tragedy was about to repeat itself, more than two thousand years later.

Very soon, the joint fleet's probes spotted a detector gliding through space. Its shape was strikingly like a droplet of water, its surface reflecting a mercury-like sheen.

Its head was rounded, its tail sharp, and its entire exterior an extremely smooth, fully reflective mirror surface. The whole solar system was reflected in flowing light patterns across it.

It was an object of stunning beauty, at first glance appearing like liquid water. Its interior bore no sign whatsoever of mechanical structure.

The droplet was only three meters in length, while the warships before it were colossal giants, hundreds or even thousands of times larger. The contrast was like an ant trying to shake a great tree.

There were as many as 1,300 of those massive vessels, but only one droplet. In terms of numbers, mass, and weight, the gap was enormous, making the droplet look like some pitiable, fragile creature.

"These bastards are putting their own personal interests above those of all humanity."

Jack Wells, watching the scene before him, couldn't help but curse. To intercept such a probe, a few space fighters would have been more than enough.

Even if they really wanted to deploy so many forces, they shouldn't be crowding the fleet like this until it could barely breathe. If something went wrong, these warships would have no time to escape—

They could only stay rooted in place, waiting helplessly for death.

"They've turned this operation into a bargaining chip for political games. Humanity has done this before."

Li Ang gazed calmly at the holographic display, patiently awaiting the outbreak of the Doomsday Battle.

Of course, he could prevent all of this—but there was no need.

At that moment, Fleet International dispatched a small unmanned vessel called the Mantis toward the droplet. It was designed for collecting asteroid samples.

Its greatest feature was a pair of ultra-long mechanical arms, used for gathering material.

The Mantis was now only five hundred kilometers away from the droplet, advancing with extreme caution. Every fifty kilometers, it would stop and use its monitoring systems for a full scan.

Only after confirming nothing abnormal would it proceed.

Meanwhile, a thousand kilometers farther out, the joint fleet had already matched the droplet's speed. Most of the warships had shut down their fusion engines, drifting silently in space.

Their vast metal hulls reflected faint starlight, like silent, desolate monoliths—an entire stone circle scattered across the void.

Tens of thousands aboard the fleet held their breath, eyes fixed on the Mantis drawing ever closer to the droplet. The images and video they saw would take three hours to reach Earth.

On Earth, it was as though the entire world held its breath. Hovercars stopped in midair. Families sat before their televisions, watching this moment destined for the history books.

Underground cities fell into silence.

Even the global internet grew quiet; all data transmission was focused on the images and footage from twenty astronomical units away.

Paul, of course, also received the images and live feed sent by the fleet council. His perspective was broader and clearer than the public's.

It was obvious Fleet International wanted Paul to witness this Doomsday Battle firsthand—how humanity would achieve an unprecedented victory.

In the broadcast, the Mantis extended its long mechanical arms, making contact with the object that had traveled nearly two centuries across four light-years of space.

When the clawed fingers of the arm pinched the droplet, billions on Earth felt their hearts skip a beat.

Then, in an instant, crowds everywhere erupted into wild, ecstatic cheers. Multitudes poured into the streets, celebrating humanity's first contact with the Trisolaran civilization.

On screen, the Mantis retracted its long arms, drawing in the droplet.

During this process, people noticed a strange contrast: the Mantis itself was a clumsy assembly of industrial machinery and crude components—

Yet the droplet's form was exquisitely crafted, crystalline and flowing, its beauty dissolving all utilitarian function, leaving only the transcendence of philosophy and art.

The steel claw gripped the droplet like some primitive ape millions of years ago clutching a pearl by the seashore.

The droplet appeared so fragile, so delicate—like a single tear suspended in space. Many feared the claw would scratch or crush it.

Fortunately, no mishap occurred. The droplet was safely secured.

As the Mantis gently drew the droplet into its main compartment and locked it in place, another thunderous cheer shook Earth.

The war ended with absolute certainty. There had been no imagined barrage of gunfire, no blood-stirring battles. Everything ended in silence.

What people could be sure of was this: with Fleet International's mighty warships and cannons, humanity could now face any alien civilization with confidence.

And the arrival of the droplet sparked subtle changes in humanity's feelings toward the Trisolarans.

This species, journeying toward the solar system for two centuries, was great and resilient. They had endured unimaginable hardship, surviving through sheer tenacity.

Across the four light-years lay cosmic disasters that could have destroyed them at any moment. They had paid dearly, suffered Infinityly, all for the chance to find a new home.

In that moment, humanity's emotions shifted—from hostility and hatred, to sympathy, pity, and respect.

It dawned on them: perhaps the ten droplets the Trisolarans sent two centuries ago were meant to express goodwill.

But humanity, twisted by its own bloody history and blind panic, had chosen only fear, making one mistake after another.

Already, some began dreaming of cooperation between humanity and the Trisolarans, envisioning the solar system as a shared paradise.

But the next second, the Mantis, which had just retrieved the droplet, suddenly exploded. The true Doomsday Battle was only beginning.

Meanwhile, at War Moon Headquarters, a probe dispatched by the Universal Megacorp intercepted a signal that had never been transmitted.

Everyone present heard the terrified cry of Dr. Ding Yi from aboard the Mantis, a cry that clutched their hearts in invisible hands:

[Foolish children, run—!!]

A faint glimmer flickered in Li Ang's eyes. His expression did not change in the slightest. This unprecedented fireworks display was about to bury the arrogance of humanity in the Trisolaran universe.

Of course, humanity's arrogance could never be eradicated. It would accompany mankind all the way to destruction.

"The images that follow are rare. I want each of you to remember them well."

Without looking back, Li Ang spoke to all the Megacorp executives.

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