Chapter Sixty-Five: Undercurrents Surging

On the eve of the virtual network’s public launch, a series of top-secret reports found their way onto the desks of world leaders. On the cover page of each was the personal résumé and photograph of Lantian himself. Outwardly, the world remained calm, but beneath the surface, the emergence of this virtual network—a force destined to shatter the established order—drove undercurrents into a raging torrent.

“Sir, should we take action?” In the confidential chambers of a certain nation’s secret service, several men in black suits—embodiments of elite society—sat gathered around a conference table. The topic of their urgent discussion was none other than the rising star Lantian and his virtual network.

“Charles, you’ll enter China with Michelle and Apollo. For now, do nothing rash. Lie low and investigate from the shadows. If the virtual network proves to be as effective as this yellow-skinned monkey claims, act at once. At all costs, bring him in! If necessary, he can be eliminated on the spot.” The middle-aged man presiding at the head of the table, his face cold and cruel, twisted his neck with a sinister smile. “As always, let me remind you: the moment you set foot on Chinese soil, you three become wanted criminals in our country. If you are discovered by the Chinese authorities, no one will come to your aid.”

“I understand, sir,” Charles replied with a sneer, his muscular frame radiating contempt. With his strength, he hardly considered this yellow-skinned monkey a threat.

At the same time, secret operations were mobilizing across the globe, all aimed squarely at Ning City in China.

But none of them realized that no matter how well they concealed their movements, as long as there was network access—or even just a cell signal—nothing escaped Bai’s eyes.

Tomorrow morning would mark the official launch of the virtual network. Lantian lay leisurely in bed, watching a series of three-dimensional projections cast by Bai. Every meeting, whether targeting the virtual universe or himself, played out before him in crystal clarity—even down to the acne on Charles’ face.

Lantian paid these schemes no mind. Those he needed to protect were already gathered around him. The Wang family, at his persuasion, had moved into Zou Linsen’s former villa next door, while his own parents occupied a spacious suite just downstairs. On the day of the network’s release, he would not leave their side for a moment.

He refused to believe that, with his preparations, anyone could harm those he swore to protect—at least, not in his presence.

After days of cultivation, his physical limits had shifted; his daily training time had grown from half an hour to a full hour, and his strength had improved dramatically. He had reached the fourth level of human energy condensation. His left arm, after reinforcement, was now as powerful as his right, and his right leg had begun to undergo training as well. His overall strength had soared yet again.

Now, with one hand, he could lift thirty thousand pounds, and a single punch could unleash over forty tons of force. Augmented by the first level of foundational combat technique, the final impact reached nearly two hundred tons.

What did this mean? A Boeing 747 weighs about seventy to eighty tons. Lantian’s explosive force was equivalent to two or three of those aircraft, and this wasn’t even accounting for the concentrated area of his fist. Striking with nearly two hundred tons on a fist-sized surface, the destructive power was simply unimaginable.

Typically, the human leg is stronger than the arm. In the virtual game, Lantian tested his abilities: with just the fourth level of energy condensation, his right leg—only just beginning to be reinforced—already surpassed his arms in strength. With the flow of technique, a single kick was enough to obliterate a ferocious lion-beast.

“Hm? Some familiar faces,” Lantian murmured, turning his attention to one of the projections.

He enlarged the image: several elderly men, all renowned figures. Honestly, Lantian’s mindset had not completely adjusted; seeing these men—the very ones who appeared nightly on the news—sent ripples through his heart.

“In my opinion, we need not interfere; let the market develop naturally,” one elder began in the projection.

“Not interfere? Elder Huang, you’re not online, so you can’t appreciate the dangers of the internet. Even our country, with its strict supervision, often has mishaps. Now, with the virtual network entirely in one person’s hands, how do we regulate it? How can we ensure oversight?” Another, a stern-faced elder in military uniform, shook his head in opposition. “I propose we detain Lantian and nationalize the virtual network.”

“That’s right! Have you considered what a blow this virtual network would deal to the traditional internet industry? Everything will be reshuffled. What does that mean? It means countless people will lose their jobs, countless families will lose their livelihood. Who can guarantee it won’t spark social unrest?” another voiced.

“And don’t forget: once the virtual network is released, international attention will be fixed on Lantian. Can he withstand it? If he can’t, and falls under foreign control, he becomes the greatest ticking time bomb in China! And from another angle, with such immense resources at his disposal, what if he ever harbors ill intent toward the nation? Could the country restrain him?” At this, Lantian’s mood soured. He had accomplished so much for his country, and yet these people all leaned toward seeing him as a threat. Only the first elder argued for a neutral stance, and even he said little more than to let things be.

Didn’t they understand that, as a Chinese citizen, he would never let his country suffer a loss?

Didn’t they have even the slightest thought of protecting their own people?

It was undeniable—his virtual network was a disruptive force, its influence profound, and whether it was good or bad remained to be seen. If these people would only approach him for dialogue, he would, for his homeland’s sake, not be unwilling to make concessions.

But instead, they showed no interest in communication at all—just talk of nationalizing the network and controlling him outright.

What a joke!

Did they really think he was made of clay?

Fury burned within Lantian. He decided to have Bai act at once—his three-dimensional projection would appear before their desks, and then he would see whether they could handle the shock.