HDRDTH -Chapter 121 Am I a Monkey in a Zoo?

Across the ocean, in the United States of the White Eagle, two hundred meters beneath the Pentagon, the highest strategic command center lay buried in silence.

Cold white shadowless lights illuminated a massive circular conference table. U.S. President Osborn sat at the head seat, holding a glass of bourbon on the rocks.

The Secretary of Defense, the CIA Director, and eight five-star generals sat on both sides.

All of them had their heads raised, staring intently at the giant holographic screen covering the entire wall.

On the screen was a real-time feed of Wild Boar Gorge in Jiangcheng.

“The quantum terminal of the Olympus Project is implanted within the totem energy body of the Great Wa Empire. This is a $300 billion high-dimensional surveillance network we built,” the Secretary of Defense said, pointing at the screen with a tone of arrogance. “China thinks they’ve solved the Great Wa Empire problem, but they don’t realize—every move they make is under our god’s-eye view.”

Osborn took a sip of bourbon, the corner of his mouth curling upward.

“Move the Pacific Fleet closer to the First Island Chain. Now that the Great Wa Empire is finished, we’ll take over that sea region.”

The moment his words fell—

The image on the screen suddenly began to shake violently.

A Chinese man in a worn-out, pilled T-shirt and plastic slippers casually waved a metal rod with no fishing line.

The eight-headed energy entity representing the fate of the Great Wa Nation instantly exploded into a mass of bloody mist.

The command center fell into dead silence.

Osborn’s glass froze midair, ice cubes clinking sharply.

“What weapon is that?” Osborn’s voice tightened.

No one answered. At the technical console, hundreds of top scientists frantically typed on keyboards. The data streams on the screen moved so fast they left afterimages.

“Report!” the chief scientist suddenly stood up, face as pale as paper. “No physical kinetic energy detected! The target’s force field directly altered the underlying spatial laws of the region! Energy level… uncomputable!”

On the screen—

Yu Xian walked into the center of the muddy swamp and bent down to pick up a broken scale engraved with the White Eagle insignia.

He lowered his head, looking at it.

At that moment, everyone in the command center felt an absurd illusion.

That man wasn’t looking at a scale.

He was looking through it—through a $300 billion quantum network, across half the globe—directly at them.

On the screen, Yu Xian’s lips curved into a cold smile.

He mouthed a sentence.

A lip-reading expert immediately translated:

“This fish pond is deeper than I expected.”

The next second—

Yu Xian lightly crushed the scale in his right hand.

“Crack.”

It turned to dust.

BOOM!

A deafening explosion erupted in the Pentagon underground command center.

The hundred-billion-dollar main server room instantly overloaded, sparks flying everywhere. The giant holographic screen shattered like it had been struck by a hammer, exploding into glass fragments.

Piercing top-level alarms echoed throughout the Pentagon.

“He counterattacked our main system through quantum entanglement!” a scientist screamed in despair.

Osborn’s glass fell to the ground, whiskey spilling everywhere. He slumped back into his leather chair, trembling uncontrollably.

Across the Pacific, crushing a single scale had paralyzed the White Eagle nation’s highest command system.

This was a god.

An indescribable high-dimensional terror.

The Secretary of Defense drew his sidearm, eyes bloodshot.

“Mr. President! Initiate nuclear deterrence! Arm all Minuteman missiles! We cannot bow to a single Chinese man!”

SMACK!

Osborn suddenly stood up and slapped him hard across the face.

The blow sent the Secretary of Defense crashing to the ground, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.

“Nuclear deterrence? What are you going to deter him with?!” Osborn roared, spitting saliva. “He can see through our entire deck from half the world away. He could erase the Pentagon and China’s coordinates before any missile even launches!”

Osborn tore off his tie, gasping for air.

“Transmit my orders!”

His voice was hoarse, filled with absolute fear and resolve.

“First: immediately cancel all Pacific Fleet deployments and withdraw to Hawaii! Any vessel crossing the International Date Line without my order—its captain is to be executed!”

“Second: cut off all intelligence networks against China, both overt and covert! Full blackout!”

Osborn slammed both hands on the table, eyes burning with survival instinct.

“Third: open the national treasury. Load all the world-class cultural relics and cutting-edge technological blueprints we’ve plundered over the past century!”

“I will personally go to China. At any cost—even if the White Eagle Nation must become a vassal state—to obtain the friendship of that Mr. Yu!”

He slumped back into his chair, muttering:

“The world… has changed.”

……

At the same time.

Downing Street, London.

The Prime Minister stared at an ultra-classified satellite report and flipped the desk over in rage.

“Immediately contact the British Museum! Pack up all Chinese cultural relics and airlift them to Beijing tonight! Tell China this is our hundred-year-delayed sincerity!”

Élysée Palace, France.

“Contact Star Entertainment! Lease the Louvre to Miss Fei for a concert! No rent! We’ll pay five hundred million in venue fees!”

Across the world’s power centers, unprecedented panic and humility erupted.

……

Jiangcheng, Jinshui Bay Villa No. 1.

A pickup truck parked in the garage.

Yu Xian opened the door and casually tossed the “magnetic fluid mental amplification device” into the trunk with a dull clang.

Li Yao stood beside the car, her eyelid twitching violently.

That was a divine artifact capable of crushing a nation’s fate, yet he tossed it like garbage into a pickup truck.

Yu Xian walked into the living room in slippers.

“You’re back,” Su Wanyi said, walking out of the kitchen with a plate of sliced watermelon. “Was Wild Boar Gorge fun? Catch any fish?”

Yu Xian collapsed into the sofa and rubbed his temples.

“Nope,” he sighed. “The water was too dirty. Full of mud and dead insects.”

Su Wanyi smiled and pushed the watermelon toward him.

“No fish, no problem. Have some watermelon.”

Yu Xian took a bite.

Buzz buzz buzz—

His phone vibrated violently.

He frowned and took it out.

Chu Feng calling. He answered.

“Mr. Yu!” Chu Feng’s voice was beyond excitement—it was almost hysterical. “The whole world is shaking! President Osborn’s plane has already taken off, carrying half the U.S. treasury, heading straight for Beijing to apologize to you!”

“Britain has emptied the British Museum—artifacts are being flown back overnight!”

“France is begging Miss Fei to perform at the Louvre, saying they want the glory of ‘Iron Mountain Lean’ to shine over the Seine!”

“Old Leader Li asked which foreign guests you plan to meet?”

The watermelon suddenly didn’t taste sweet anymore.

Yu Xian tossed the rind into the trash and wiped his hands.

“Meet them my ass,” he said impatiently. “Do I look like a monkey in a zoo? Anyone who wants to meet me gets to meet me?”

“But Mr. Yu, they’re bringing the world’s top resources…”

“Tell them all to get lost,” Yu Xian cut him off. “Tell Old Li: keep the things, send the people away. Anyone who dares disturb me in Jiangcheng—I’ll go to their capital tomorrow and drain their reservoirs.”

On the other end, Chu Feng sucked in a sharp breath.

Drain a national capital’s reservoir? That was worse than a nuclear strike.

“Understood! I will immediately relay your highest order! No foreign guest shall enter Jiangcheng!”

He hung up.

Yu Xian tossed the phone onto the table and exhaled deeply.

Too noisy.

This world was just too noisy.

He only wanted a quiet place to cast a rod and watch a float. Why was it so difficult?

Wild Boar Gorge was ruined. The nearby reservoirs were probably already classified as military restricted zones.

He stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the sky slowly darken.

In his previous life, he had once bought a private island in the middle of the Pacific while building a global business empire. Four sides surrounded by ocean, no signal, no politicians—only endless seafood and deep-sea monsters to catch.

“Da Fu,” Yu Xian called.

Wang Dafu, who was wiping the pickup’s wheel hub at the door, immediately stood up. “Dad, what do you need?”

“Book a flight. The earliest one,” Yu Xian stretched lazily.

Wang Dafu froze. “Where are we going?”

“The Pacific,” Yu Xian said, eyes distant. “To buy an island. I’m going fishing for tuna. No one will find me.”

At that moment—

The television in the living room played the evening news.

“We interrupt with urgent international news.”

“Today, in the Pacific Ocean, at latitude 30°N and longitude 142°E, multiple cargo ships reported abnormal sea phenomena.”

“A large fog has appeared over the ocean surface, within which faint ancient palace structures can be seen. The United Nations Ocean Exploration Organization has designated it the ‘Ruins of Return’ anomaly point. All ships are advised to avoid the area…”

Yu Xian’s gaze locked onto the screen.

30°N, 142°E.

That was exactly the coordinates of the private island he had purchased in his previous life.

His right palm—the dark red vertical mark—suddenly burned without warning.

Ten times hotter than in Wild Boar Gorge.