Gudebai was furious. The shabbiness of this company's research lab was one thing. But for him—an A-rank engineer holding B-rank contribution credits from the National Academy of Sciences—to take orders from a child who was clearly not yet an adult was something he absolutely could not accept.

The fact that he hadn't stormed out on the spot was already giving the President a great deal of face.

"Who is the head of your research department?" Gudebai was clearly the highest-ranking among these engineers from the National Academy of Sciences; no one dared interrupt when he spoke. However, judging by their expressions, it was evident they were all deeply displeased and unconvinced.

Zhong Yun stepped forward, sweeping his gaze over them. Four hundred people crowded into the research lab, making the space feel exceptionally cramped.

"My time is extremely valuable. Every single second," he held up one finger, "determines the lives of tens of thousands of soldiers fighting and bleeding on the front lines. I don't have time to waste on you."

"If you wish to contribute to the victory of this war, immediately follow my instructions and get to work." Zhong Yun's expression was frighteningly grim. "If you have any questions, feel free to call and ask the President."

With that, he signaled the original members of the research division, who had paused their work, to resume.

The other engineers exchanged uneasy glances. It wasn't that they were intimidated by him, but they remembered the President's explicit instructions: they were to follow the directions of the people here without question. Their gazes then turned toward Gudebai, who stood at the front.

Gudebai’s face was ashen. Being lectured by a boy younger than his own grandson nearly made him explode with rage.

With a disdainful snort, he walked over. "Speak. What do you need us to do?" His tone was quite abrasive. He was eager to see what capabilities this child possessed to utter such grandiose claims.

In truth, the primary constraint was the President’s repeated, solemn pleas: they were to prioritize the nation above all else. This was the only reason the proud and arrogant Gudebai endured this humiliation.

Zhong Yun felt a flash of satisfaction internally. Just as he had said, his time was precious, and he had no patience for dawdling. Moreover, even without their help, the original personnel of the research division could manage to manufacture the smelting machinery for the "High-Intensity Metal" without issue.

He merely wanted to seize this opportunity to subdue these engineers first—for technical experts like them, only truly weighty technical accomplishments could earn their sincere respect.

"I have reviewed your list. Now, those whose names I call should come forward to receive a set of documents. Once you have familiarized yourselves with them, I will tell you what to do." Zhong Yun then began reading names.

Gudebai was the first to receive an electronic file, stored on an e-reader. After reading just two paragraphs, he realized it concerned the topic of enhancing metal compatibility—precisely the direction of his own research.

Initially, he remained somewhat perfunctory, but after skimming ten paragraphs, a flicker of interest appeared. By the time he reached the halfway point, his expression had grown grave.

When he finished reading the entire document, Gudebai stood up, visibly agitated. He grabbed Zhong Yun’s arm urgently. "Who is the author of this document? Quick, take me to meet him."

This document outlined a concept for improving metal compatibility by utilizing other substances as a medium. This perfectly matched his research subject, and the document already contained a complete theoretical exposition. With his expertise, he could clearly see a high probability of realizing the ideas presented within.

At that moment, another man leaped up and seized Zhong Yun’s other hand, his face equally alight with excitement. "Who is this author?"

Before Zhong Yun could speak, several more people sprang forward, shouting, "Who is the author?"

"Stop—" Zhong Yun could bear it no longer. He roared, instantly silencing their clamor. Only when they quieted did he stop. "Do you all want to know more detailed information and experimental data?"

"Cut the nonsense, take us to him now," Gudebai urged impatiently.

"Yes…" Excitement flared among the crowd now; many waved the documents in their hands. This material had truly struck the core of their professional interest.

"Fine," Zhong Yun raised one hand, signaling them to calm down, then stated, "First, sign this contract. Afterward, I will take you to meet the author."

Zhong Yun distributed the contracts. "You can review them first, then decide whether to sign."

After the contracts reached every person, Zhong Yun sat to the side.

Ten minutes later, unsurprising to him, everyone except twelve individuals had signed the agreement.

Since they had signed, they were now on his side. Zhong Yun took out another set of documents and redistributed them.

"Who exactly is the author of this material?" Gudebai asked, frowning as he accepted the file.

"Is that very important?" Zhong Yun countered with a smile.

"Extremely important," Gudebai insisted. He desperately wanted to meet this author; he had so many ideas he wished to exchange.

"I think it's better if you don't know," Zhong Yun shook his head and moved on to the next person.

Gudebai froze, then suddenly grasped Zhong Yun's meaning, his mouth widening slowly...

The next seven days were hectic, but Zhong Yun managed to finalize the physical manufacturing of the four new technologies just in time, and the remaining engineers were all assembled.

What stunned Zhong Yun was the location of their laboratory: it was at Mingzhu School...

Just as the President received an operational stealth mecha, bad news arrived from the front lines: the Fifth Fleet, stationed on the northern border, had been defeated in a recent engagement. Five complete Mist Mountain-class battleships, along with the one hundred and fifty thousand officers and soldiers aboard, were all lost.

On this day of mixed joy and sorrow, the President held a memorial service for the entire crew of the Fifth Fleet and delivered a national address, mobilizing the populace to contribute to the nation.

"...We Davo people will never yield to the barbaric military force of the invaders..."

In the Zhong Group's employee cafeteria, everyone watched the live broadcast of the President's speech in solemn silence. The atmosphere was grave and heavy.

Zhong Yun sighed and left the cafeteria. Behind him, the President’s impassioned voice carried: "...We are a righteous army, and we will certainly achieve victory..."

"Xiao Ling, has the analysis finished? What are Davo's chances of victory?" Zhong Yun contacted Xiao Ling through his communicator. He had acquired intelligence data on the Hongxian Federation from the President a few days prior and tasked Xiao Ling with calculating the war's outcome.

"Davo's probability of victory is only 19.7 percent."

Xiao Ling's words caused a sinking feeling in Zhong Yun's heart. "Could it be that even with these four new technologies, Davo still can't defeat that damned Hongxian Federation?"

"Fully absorbing these technologies will take at least ten years. Davo's overall strength gap with the Hongxian Federation is too vast; it will only take five to eight years for the Hongxian Federation to occupy all of Davo territory," Xiao Ling's voice was so cold it chilled Zhong Yun to the bone.

"Is there truly no way?" Zhong Yun violently kicked the wall, startling a secretary who happened to be passing by. "Yun Shao, hello," she greeted quickly before hurrying away.

Since learning of Zhong Yun’s true identity, most employees had taken to calling him Yun Shao. He had tried to correct them several times, but too many people used the title. In the end, he stopped bothering, letting them call him whatever they wished. He glanced at the secretary's rear—perhaps from sitting too much in offices, it looked a little slack. He withdrew his gaze, patted his head, feeling deeply frustrated.

Lately, for some reason, ever since that time he had intimate contact with Xiao Ruo, he had been acting strangely—or perhaps not strangely, but whenever he saw a beautiful woman, a surge of desire would erupt, completely beyond his control.

Several times in elevators, he nearly harassed female employees. Consequently, the reputation of Zhong Yun the pervert spread rapidly, leaving him miserable and unable to clear his name.

He secretly visited a doctor. The doctor said his body was normal; it was just that his male hormone secretion was slightly more vigorous than average. It wasn't a major problem.

"You don't need to worry," Xiao Ling's voice suddenly interjected, seemingly offering comfort.

"What do you know," Zhong Yun said, feeling depressed. If he were truly a pervert, it would be one thing, but he was still a virgin—he hadn't harmed a single girl—yet he had been branded with this reputation, which felt deeply unfair.

"What you are experiencing is a normal reaction. Before one approaches an Ascension rank, certain instincts in humans are stimulated. Yours is sexual instinct. After advancing, it will revert to normal," Xiao Ling explained.

Zhong Yun felt dizzy. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"You didn't ask me," Xiao Ling retorted.

"So it’s just a normal phenomenon." Zhong Yun felt much better. He had thought something was seriously wrong with him. Being labeled a pervert wasn't frightening; what was frightening was not knowing why this change occurred. Once the cause was identified, he felt reassured. Human instinctual desires could not be erased. While one could not indulge them recklessly, they also could not be completely suppressed.

It seemed he needed an outlet. Zhong Yun made up his mind to call his girlfriend that very night.

"There is a way to turn the tide of the battle."

Xiao Ling's words startled Zhong Yun, who took a moment to process what he meant. Such a jarring shift—from sexuality to warfare—was hard to follow. "What way?" Zhong Yun’s heart leaped with hope. Since Xiao Ling said this, it meant there was a chance for a turnaround.

"Counterattack."

"Counterattack?" Zhong Yun felt deflated. His current status was extraordinary; the Provisional Operations Department had invited him to meetings, and he knew exactly how stretched Davo's military resources were.

Simply holding the third defensive line against the enemy's relentless assault had already exhausted Davo’s military reserves. In other words, Davo had no spare troops left.

The recruitment of new soldiers was underway, and major shipyards were running at full capacity, producing warships, fighters, and mechas day and night. The Provisional Operations Department was even planning to recall retired veterans. Even so, it would take at least another month before the new warships were ready.

Where would Davo find the excess force for a counterattack against the Hongxian Federation? Even ordinary civilian spaceships had been requisitioned by the state for transporting supplies. The original supply vessels had been armed and sent to the front lines.

"Davo does not have the forces. You do."

"Me?" Zhong Yun was stunned.

P: Finally finished before midnight. Please give some monthly tickets.