Chapter Fifty-Four: The Opening of the Press Conference

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[Time remaining until 'Zero Hour': 00:10:00]

Shanghai International Convention and Exhibition Center, Main Hall One.

Here, it is the center of the world.

On the giant circular domed screen, a promotional film for Huaxin Technologies is playing—showcasing the journey from a few humble rooms at the start, to a global network of research centers; from the first crude wafer to the impending launch of the “Dawn One,” a chip forged by countless hours of dedication. Stirring music, woven with grand visuals, tells an epic of pursuit, of surpassing, and of dreams.

Below the stage, every seat is filled. Reporters from more than a hundred leading media organizations worldwide have erected a forest of steel, their cameras and equipment bristling like a thicket of lances. Flashbulbs burst in quick succession, like stars exploding in the night sky, illuminating the entire hall as if it were day.

David Harris, senior technology correspondent for The New York Times, stands before the camera, delivering his final live report.

“Yes, Anna, the atmosphere here has reached a fever pitch. Today, the eyes of the entire tech world are focused on this place. Will this ‘Morning Star’ from the East prove to be just another overhyped meteor streaking briefly across the sky, or will it become the true star that reshapes the global semiconductor power structure? In just a few minutes, we’ll have the answer.”

His tone carries an unmistakable complexity—a wariness toward the rise of a potential new giant, and also the pure excitement of a journalist on the cusp of witnessing history.

…

In stark contrast to the fervor out front, the private lounge behind the stage is so quiet that one can hear the beating of a heart.

Chen Jingming, founder and CEO of Huaxin Technologies, a man in his fifties, stands alone before a large full-length mirror, adjusting his attire.

His hands tremble slightly.

No one knows the price he and his team have paid for this day, for the thirty minutes about to unfold on stage. Twenty years of painstaking toil, countless sleepless nights, the tenacity to rise again and again from the ashes in the face of technological blockades.

Today, he is unveiling far more than just a chip.

It is the culmination of half his life’s work.

It is the crystallization of the youth and wisdom of tens of thousands of researchers.

It is, above all, the first thunderous roar of defiance from this nation’s technological “Golgotha,” sent forth against the walls of hegemony.

Slowly, he raises his hand.

But he does not reach for the expensive tie that symbolizes his status and rank.

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Instead, with utmost solemnity, he extends his fingertip to lightly touch the small, brilliant pin on the lapel of his deep blue suit—the pin of the bright red national flag, gleaming under the lights.

In that moment, all the nervousness and uncertainty in his eyes dissolve into an unwavering resolve: to wield the sword for his country, with no regrets even in death.

On the unseen battlefield, the tension is palpable.

In the hall, a field agent from National Security, disguised as a hotel waiter, pushes an elegant food cart and smiles as he moves through the media section. No one notices that, on the lenses of his black-rimmed glasses, infrared thermal scan data of key surrounding areas flashes by at a rate of thirty frames per second.

At the same moment, in the “Shadow Bureau” command center.

On Lin Feng’s screen, the data streams representing the convention center’s internal network are as calm as the surface of a deep lake.

Yet, at the very bottom of this data lake, a tiny red packet, perfectly camouflaged as a printer driver, lies in wait.

It is like a deep-sea mine from hell, planted long ago, awaiting only the “zero hour” detonation signal.

Xiao Ran’s gaze is fixed on the blood-red countdown ticking relentlessly toward zero on the wall.

She slowly picks up the master communicator at the command desk and, in a voice as cold and emotionless as a machine, issues the final order to all units.

“Attention all teams.

One-minute countdown.

—‘Heaven’s Net’… full activation.”

…

The final minute.

Time, at this instant, seems to stretch into two entirely different dimensions.

“Ladies and gentlemen! The press conference is about to begin! Let’s count down from five together!”

The sweet voice of the announcer rings out over the loudspeakers, instantly igniting the crowd’s excitement.

“Five!”

“Four!”

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“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

—At that very moment, in the command center, a cold, mechanical voice simultaneously delivers the final sentence of doom.

“‘Zero Hour’… initiated.”

Boom—!

As the countdown in the hall ends, stirring and majestic symphonic music erupts like a volcano!

A brilliant spotlight, as if from the heavens, slices through the darkness and lands precisely at the entrance to the stage!

Chen Jingming, head held high, eyes resolute, strides forward with steady, powerful steps—emerging from the shadows, walking toward the center of the stage, ablaze with light and watched by the world!

And at that exact instant!

On the massive three-dimensional operations map in the “Shadow Bureau” command center!

The golden stream of light representing Anderson’s hundred-billion-dollar short-selling capital!

The red stream of light representing “Scepter of God” and the “Pangu” backdoor!

And the gray stream of light representing the armies of internet trolls and rumors!

Three vast torrents of data, hellish in their destructive power, like three ancient dragons unleashed after millennia in chains, suddenly bare their fangs at the edge of the screen, surging with world-ending force toward the golden dot at the center of the map—representing “Huaxin Technologies,” at this moment… looking so fragile.

The war has officially begun!