The security personnel standing behind Zhong Yun were utterly dumbfounded; they had never witnessed anyone speak to the President with such casual disregard.

Shi Jinfan offered a slight, knowing smile. A touch of youthful impudence was hardly a cardinal sin.

“Uncle President, how do you know me?” Zhong Yun walked over and sat down next to Yang Yunrong, blinking his eyes as he asked. It was a shame his appearance utterly failed to convey any sort of charm, severely undermining any effect of feigned innocence.

“You are a truly remarkable young man,” Shi Jinfan admitted, making no effort to conceal his admiration for Zhong Yun. “Our nation requires young men exactly like you to defend it.”

Zhong Yun internally rolled his eyes so hard he nearly saw stars. It always came back to sending him onto the battlefield.

“You might not know yet,” Shi Jinfan’s tone unconsciously softened, influenced by Zhong Yun’s presence. “As a reward for annihilating an entire enemy fleet, you have been officially promoted to the rank of Major General.” He chuckled. “A seventeen-year-old Major General. Since its founding, Davor has never seen such a thing. You are the first in history.”

This statement, a masterful blend of praise and promotion, especially coming from the President of Davor himself, caused Zhong Yun to feel a momentary, irresistible lift in his spirits.

However, as for actually stepping onto the battlefield, even if the President could wax poetic about it for an eternity, Zhong Yun was absolutely determined to refuse.

“But, I believe I can make a greater contribution to the nation by remaining in the rear lines,” Zhong Yun stated with forced difficulty.

“Oh?” Shi Jinfan’s eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly, his gaze flicking briefly over Yang Bingchang’s face, though the smile remained fixed. “And what sort of contribution might that be from the deep rear?”

The atmosphere in the room had become decidedly strange. Ever since Zhong Yun entered, the President had engaged him exclusively, completely neglecting the three members of the Yang family. Even stranger, the three Yangs cooperated by remaining silent, content to watch the pair engage in what resembled child's play.

“I know many things,” Zhong Yun replied, sounding genuinely excited. He began counting on his fingers. “Like high-tensile alloys. Energy amplifiers. Spatial remote sensors. Anti-reconnaissance mechas…”

“Wait—” Upon hearing the phrase “spatial remote sensors,” Shi Jinfan’s previously casual demeanor shifted instantly. He fixed his eyes intently on Zhong Yun. “What did you just say you know?”

“High-tensile alloys. Energy amplifiers. Spatial remote sensors. Anti-reconnaissance mechas,” Zhong Yun repeated loudly.

Shi Jinfan couldn’t help but look toward the three Yangs. Only Yang Tianlie showed a flicker of change in expression matching his own; Yang Bingchang and his son remained completely unsurprised, clearly already aware of these matters.

“This ‘spatial remote sensor’ you speak of—what exactly is it?” The President’s ease had vanished, replaced by a palpable gravity.

“Uncle President, you are rather uninformed,” Zhong Yun gently needled him, a small act of revenge for the battlefield suggestion.

“A spatial remote sensor is a machine capable of instant, real-time communication across distances spanning light-years. For instance, if I have one here, and another one exists ten light-years away, sending information between them is immediate. Unlike conventional waves, which would take ten years to arrive. Do you understand?”

Shi Jinfan paid no mind to the slight. He leaned forward, his posture taut. “Can you fabricate them? I mean, are you capable of manufacturing spatial remote sensors?”

“What’s so difficult about that?” Zhong Yun dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “They can’t make them because they are simply too slow-witted.”

Shi Jinfan glanced again at Yang Bingchang, who maintained his inscrutable expression, revealing nothing.

He suddenly sprang to his feet and began pacing the room, his right hand, held close to his trousers, drumming a rapid, nervous rhythm against his thigh, betraying the turmoil beneath his composure.

The four seated on the sofas watched him silently.

After two circuits of the room, Shi Jinfan returned to the sofa opposite Zhong Yun. The tension that had momentarily eased in his facial muscles immediately snapped back tight. Beneath his bright eyes lay the thick shadows of exhaustion. “I will ask you one more time, and you must tell me the absolute truth.”

He stared down at Zhong Yun, showing no leniency despite the boy’s seventeen years.

Seeing Zhong Yun nod, he drew a deep, measured breath. “Can you—truly—manufacture a spatial remote sensor? This is monumentally important. You absolutely cannot lie to me.”

The threat in his voice was unmistakable. As the head of state, the President possessed an inherent charisma that compelled attention and an aura that subtly demanded obedience. Zhong Yun now felt that pressure acutely—the sheer weight of leading a nation with ten light-years of territory, hundreds of resource planets, thirteen habitable worlds, and billions of citizens.

Zhong Yun hadn't anticipated that this normally congenial President, when rendered serious, could exert such psychological pressure. The playful mask dissolved from his face, replaced by solemnity, and he nodded. “I can.”

Receiving the affirmative answer, Shi Jinfan’s rigid body relaxed instantly. He sank back onto the sofa, finally hearing two pieces of good news after a string of disheartening battlefield reports.

Yang Tianlie’s return was unparalleled in its morale-boosting effect—that was the first piece of good news.

Zhong Yun’s ability to create the “spatial remote sensor” meant the armed forces could achieve infinitely tighter coordination, spreading an information network across the entire nation, allowing for the acquisition of immediate, accurate battlefield data to facilitate rapid strategic and tactical adjustments.

Often, war was fundamentally a race against time. The widespread deployment of the “spatial remote sensor” would instantly elevate the overall combat capability of the Davor military by a full magnitude.

“Zhong Yun, those things you mentioned—the high-tensile alloy, the energy amplifier, the anti-reconnaissance mecha—what are they?” It was Yang Tianlie who finally spoke.

Shi Jinfan straightened in his seat again. Indeed, if Zhong Yun listed these alongside the “spatial remote sensor,” they could not be ordinary items. Yang Bingchang and Yang Yunrong leaned forward, eager to see what surprises, beyond the communication device, he might offer.

“The high-tensile alloy is a metal synthesized from several common metals and a few specific exotic substances. Its tensile strength is three and a half times that of the strongest known metal, the Archaic Alloy, and it offers superior resistance to energy cannon fire,” Zhong Yun explained, returning to his usual speaking tone. Clearly, levity was inappropriate now.

Three and a half times the strength of the ‘Archaic Alloy’!

None of the four present were strangers to metallurgy. Hearing the figure, they collectively sucked in a sharp breath. The ‘Archaic Alloy’ was synthesized two decades prior by a scientist named Gu, whose discovery, thanks to its outstanding protective properties, immediately replaced another material as the preferred outer shielding for warships and starships.

Three and a half times the strength of the ‘Archaic Alloy.’ What did that even mean? It promised to triple the defensive capability of battleships and mechas. It was a number that drove men mad with ambition. If true, the value of this ‘high-tensile alloy’ could hardly be less than that of the ‘spatial remote sensor.’

Ignoring their astonishment, Zhong Yun continued. “The energy amplifier is a component capable of vastly increasing energy output.”

He gave only this brief summary of the ‘energy amplifier’s’ function, offering no further explanation.

But Yang Tianlie was not one to let him gloss over such a discovery. “What practical use does it have in warfare?”

“Well, for example,” Zhong Yun began, frowning slightly, “if installed within a plasma cannon, it drastically reduces the cannon’s charging time.”

“By how much time?” Yang Tianlie pressed.

“That depends on the specific conditions,” Zhong Yun replied. “For a cannon firing one thousand energy units, it could shorten the charge time by approximately three to four minutes.”

Yang Tianlie’s face lit up. Three or four minutes was more than enough. Space engagements often lasted hundreds, even thousands of hours. If one firing cycle could be shortened by four minutes, over the course of a single battle, a single cannon could fire tens of thousands of extra plasma volleys. Calculated across a battleship’s five hundred cannon ports, and considering a fleet of four such ships, the resulting number was terrifyingly high. This ‘energy amplifier’ could elevate a ship’s combat effectiveness by an entire tier.

“And the anti-reconnaissance mecha?” Yang Yunrong couldn't help but ask.

Zhong Yun shrugged. “You should be able to guess from the name alone.”

“A stealth mecha?” Yang Yunrong managed, swallowing hard.

“You could put it that way,” he conceded.

The other four fell silent. In space, where light was often absent, conflict frequently erupted in these lightless voids. Without light, all detection relied upon the reconnaissance equipment aboard the vessels. Thus, detection systems were paramount to every major power. If reconnaissance failed, it meant one had gone blind, leaving even the most advanced warship waiting only for death.

However, achieving true invisibility for a massive warship was nearly impossible due to the sheer number of detection methods available. Even a vessel as advanced as the Mars could not guarantee evasion from the detection grids of the Hongxian Federation fleet while in motion.

Therefore, the ideal target for stealth technology was the mecha. Relative to a massive warship, a mecha was almost negligible in size. Yet, given a mecha’s devastating destructive potential, if one managed to infiltrate a vessel’s interior, the results would be catastrophic.

In cosmic warfare, the primary means of disabling an enemy—aside from ship-to-ship cannon duels—was deploying mechas and fighters to infiltrate the enemy’s command ships. Since fighters were often too cumbersome for confined spaces, mechas became the true ship-killers. A single infiltrator could inflict immense damage.

But enemies do not allow easy approaches to their capital ships. Beyond interceptors and fighters, the ship hulls were bristling with countless miniature light cannons designed specifically to target mechas.

The thought of an entire strike team composed of stealth mechas successfully infiltrating an enemy command ship, undetected by its sensors, and delivering a fatal blow—this prospect made the breathing of the four listeners, including Yang Tianlie, grow shallow and their hearts race.

Any one of these four inventions was a game-changing trump card. Combined, they had already envisioned the staggering shockwave they would deliver to the Hongxian Federation.

P: Finished writing, my eyes are nearly too heavy to open from tiredness. Please be kind and cast some monthly votes.