East Coast of the United States, southwest Washington D.C., Arlington County, Virginia—the Pentagon.
"General Ross, the hearing is about to start. Please take your seat quickly!"
"Mm."
With a faint nod, General Ross, dressed in his uniform and wearing a grim expression, strode forward briskly. Passing through corridor after corridor, the hearing room loomed ahead. He'd been pulled off the West Coast war front and sent back to the Pentagon for this so-called hearing for one reason only: the Pacific Navy's annihilation campaign against the Black Death Emperor had suffered an unprecedented defeat.
Even if the world hasn't caught wind of this just yet, sooner or later everyone will realize: America can't handle the Black Death Emperor. If they hadn't fired a shot, they could've claimed 'political considerations' or 'peacekeeping interests.' But they did—and couldn't even scratch a hair on the Black Death Emperor's head. The blow to America's international standing is nothing short of devastating.
As one of the most vocal hawks and a core member of the frontline command, General Ross had to be called back to the Pentagon for questioning. Taking the fall for this military fiasco was basically a done deal. They called it a hearing, but to General Ross, the room ahead felt more like an execution chamber.
"By now, those conservatives have probably cooked up a hundred excuses to tear me apart." General Ross cast a dark look at the red-haired woman walking beside him. "Investment prospects aren't looking great. As a businesswoman, aren't you thinking about 'cutting your losses'?"
"There's no such thing as cutting losses, and stopping the fight isn't even on the table." Phyllis Zade, sixteenth in line, replied coldly and firmly, her high heels echoing with authority on the floor. "I'm here at this hearing for one reason only: to convince the Pentagon to launch a final attack on the Black Death Emperor at any cost—even if it means deploying the ultimate weapon."
As a major player in America’s financial world, the Zade Family’s stance would set the tone for everyone else. Phyllis Zade’s words steadied Ross’s nerves, but he frowned and asked, "Ultimate weapon? You mean nuclear?"
Phyllis Zade didn’t answer. She simply said coldly, "The Black Death Emperor is still drifting somewhere in the Pacific. This is our last chance to use the ultimate weapon. If he sets foot on American soil, it’ll be a disaster. So as a general of this country, forget about the hawks-versus-doves debate. Right now, you need to do whatever it takes to defend the land you swore to protect. After all, the Black Death Emperor isn’t the only one eyeing this rich country."
"What do you mean by that?" Ross caught a hint of something in Phyllis Zade’s words, but before he could press further, the two of them stepped into the vast hearing chamber.
With wartime efficiency, everything was stripped down—no formalities, no frills. Everyone took their seats quickly and quietly.
Just as General Ross was straightening his uniform, the head of Military Intelligence stood up and swept the room with a severe gaze. "Gentlemen, before we begin this hearing, we've just received another unfortunate piece of news—New York has been attacked."
"What?!" The whole room erupted in shock.
When it rains, it pours. America was gearing up for a showdown with the Black Death Emperor, still debating what to do, and now the biggest city on the East Coast had just been hit?
After a moment of stunned silence, the generals in the room were suddenly ablaze with fury. Not so long ago, America was the world’s top dog—bomb whoever they wanted, whenever they wanted.
If they didn’t like someone, they’d send a drone over, drop a bomb, and wipe everything clean.
If they didn’t like a country, screw the UN Charter, screw the treaties—they’d go after you anyway!
We are America.
We can.
That's why we could do whatever we wanted!
But now? It's bad enough we've got lunatics causing trouble at home, but now Chosen Ones from abroad are showing up too. The Black Death Emperor in the Pacific was just the beginning—now someone’s stirring up trouble in New York? Do they really think America is an easy target?
Who’s got the guts to pull this off?
Amidst all these angry generals, only Ross discreetly glanced at Phyllis Zade. What they were talking about was probably what Phyllis Zade had just hinted at.
"This is essentially a terrorist attack, but it bypassed Homeland Security and went straight to Military Intelligence—that’s because Homeland Security simply couldn’t handle it. The enemy took over all of New York City in a flash, cut off all transportation, and has over ten million American citizens held hostage."
How is that possible?
The generals’ hearts skipped a beat. They knew just how tightly defended New York was. Sure, in movies, New York’s always in trouble, like nobody’s watching the place. But ever since 9/11, it’s basically been a fortress. And it’s not like the intelligence agencies are just sitting around. If anyone planned a terrorist attack this big, the agencies would’ve picked up on it and smashed it long before anything happened.
But even the strongest walls can crumble from within.
To seize all the key points in New York so quickly—no outside enemy could pull that off. There must be someone high up on the inside working with them.
"Who are the enemies?"
"One of them is a Chosen One ranked top eight on the Heavenly Ranking, known as 'God,' supposedly the second strongest in the world. The other is a traitor—Patrick Zade." The official shot Phyllis Zade a cold look. "Miss Zade, I hope you have some good news for us."
Phyllis Zade's expression didn't budge, as if Patrick's betrayal was no surprise at all. She rose slowly, her presence dominating the room. "On behalf of the Zade Family Management Committee Chair, I formally state to the Military Committee: Patrick Zade's betrayal is a personal act and has nothing to do with the Zade Family."
You call it 'personal' and think that settles it? New York gets attacked, and with one sentence you want to wash your Zade Family’s hands of the whole mess? The Zade Family sure has a vivid imagination!—Normally, someone would jump up and say that.
But right now, the packed hearing room—dozens of people—none of them said a word.
Because the Zade Family is just that powerful.
America's got all kinds of entrenched tycoons, clans, and big shots—but how many can actually go toe-to-toe with the Zade Family?
Not a single one.
If it were just some fringe player mouthing off, sure, you could roast them and steal the spotlight. But someone quietly wiped sweat from their brow—Zade Family Management Committee Chair? That’s Old Zade himself!
The red-haired woman herself isn’t a big deal, but right now, she’s speaking for Old Zade. If you pick a fight now, forget being a general—even the president couldn’t walk away unscathed! Nobody here is stupid enough to try.
So, everyone in the hearing just quietly watched Phyllis Zade, her red hair flying, as she coldly and officially declared: "Patrick Zade, for conspiring to kidnap Zade Family Management Committee member Parker Peterson, is hereby expelled and stripped of succession rights. The Zade Family will fully cooperate with all efforts to arrest and prosecute Patrick."
The generals looked grim, lost in thought. The head of Military Intelligence stared deeply at Phyllis, neither responding nor speaking, and for a moment, the atmosphere was tense.
Just then, Phyllis’s partner, General Ross, stepped forward: "How did the enemy manage to take over all of New York? Is there any way to break their hold?"
"Celestial Weaponry." The official took a deep breath, his face clouded with gloom. "The Chosen One codenamed 'God' used a Category 5 hurricane—'Monica.' That super-intense cyclone is his weapon."
Ross turned to look northeast. On the horizon, a black streak pressed against the edge of sight—rolling and surging like a devil sharpening its blade, ready to slaughter the masses.
That’s New York.
New York, Times Square.
Known as the crossroads of the world, it used to be the most bustling place on earth—a paradise people from every corner dreamed of. Every day, elites rushed about here, every move shaping the course of human society.
But now, the square was completely deserted.
Looking farther out, the streets of New York were empty—so empty, even the homeless had vanished. All because, right now, the wind was simply too strong.
Gale-force winds, everywhere—ravaging New York City. The Category 5 hurricane brought endless energy and torrential rain; thick clouds blanketed the city in pitch-black darkness. In the face of the sweeping storm, skyscrapers lit up as beacons of civilization, only to have their lights snuffed out one by one.
Everything was swallowed by darkness.
Patrick Zade was ruthless and decisive. Since he’d made his rebellion clear, he was going to do it thoroughly. Power, communications, internet, transportation—sea, air, underground, high above—his think tank had planned every detail. They even went so far as to disable the lightning rods on the skyscrapers.
Why take down the lightning rods?
Naturally, to make it easier for his allies to unleash their power.
In a vast underground cavern, in front of a giant round device, Patrick Zade quietly admired this dazzling technological marvel. His face showed anticipation and manic excitement—everything but fear.
He had no need for fear.
With his long-term infiltration, control, and sudden strike—plus the brute force brought by 'God' and a horde of Chosen Ones, along with some large-scale coercive weapons he’d prepared—he was confident he could hold New York for at least a full day.
And after a day, either he’d be dead—or he’d be master of the Tiberius Laboratory.
By then, distances would mean nothing—near could become far, far could become near.
No one would be able to restrain him anymore.
No one would be able to threaten him anymore.
No one—not even that shadow that’s always hung over my heart—could ever control my fate again!
"Anyone who tries to control me will be torn apart by me! I am the perfect Zade!"