Fate's Choice: Livestream at the Start Summoning Billions of Ravens

Kyoto, Ninth Bureau Headquarters, Command Center.

The air here was as solemn as ever, and the huge electronic screens on the walls silently updated encrypted intelligence from all over the world.

Chen Jianguo sat in his seat, the tea in front of him had gone cold.

Suddenly, the shadows on the empty ground in front of him began to writhe and boil abnormally.

The next moment, dozens of crows made entirely of shadows emerged from it. They made no sound, circled and gathered in mid-air, and finally coalesced into the shape of a young man wearing a casual suit.

It was Jiang Ming Mirror No. 1, who had just disappeared from the miHoYo headquarters in Shanghai.

"What was the result?"

Chen Jianguo got straight to the point, as he was already used to this kind of unpredictable entrance.

Jiang Mingjing walked to the sofa opposite him and sat down, leaning casually against the back of the sofa, reverting to his lazy consultant demeanor.

She refused.

"The reason is that I look too lazy and lack the motivation to become a Master."

"..."

Even someone as seasoned as Chen Jianguo remained silent for a moment upon hearing this reason.

He seemed to be processing this somewhat absurd answer.

A few seconds later, he nodded.

"I understand. Someone like Ms. Funina has her own will and standards of judgment, and cannot be forced."

Chen Jianguo's reaction was calm; from the very beginning, he hadn't held out 100% hope.

"Any other takeaways?"

"have."

Jiang Ming, mirror image number one, raised his chin.

On his shoulder, a shadow crow that had been standing quietly suddenly opened its beak.

"Splash splash splash—"

A golden torrent gushed forth from that tiny beak, defying any common sense of physics.

Countless brilliant gold coins, engraved with special patterns, fell onto the cold, hard floor, making a crisp, pleasant sound as they clattered together, quickly piling up into a glittering little mountain.

One hundred thousand Mora.

Each one contains the power of "concept solidification" that drives top physicists crazy.

Chen Jianguo stood up and walked to the golden mountain. Even with his composure, his breathing became heavier.

"This is the product of our deal with her," Jiang Ming Mirror No. 1 explained. "We provide her with all the conveniences within China, and she provides us with Mora."

"very good."

Chen Jianguo uttered two words.

He pressed a red button on the table.

"Notify the lab to send someone over immediately to receive some items."

Less than thirty seconds later, the door to the command center was pushed open.

A team of researchers pushed in several specially made silver combination lock cases.

When they saw the mountain of gold on the ground, their breathing became noticeably rapid.

No one speaks.

Using specially made tweezers, they carefully picked up each Mora one by one, sorted them by number, and placed them into different boxes.

The whole process was as solemn as if it were the handling of some sacred relic.

Chen Jianguo turned around and solemnly said to Jiang Mingjing Mirror No. 1.

"Thank you for your hard work, Consultant Jiang. The value of these items is immeasurable."

"It's nothing."

Jiang Mingjing Mirror Number One stood up from the sofa and stretched.

"I need to rest. You can handle the rest."

After saying that, he didn't even wait for Chen Jianguo's response.

His body began to disintegrate again, and under the horrified gaze of several researchers, it transformed back into a flock of pitch-black shadow crows. Instead of flying into the air, they plunged straight into the deepest shadows of the ground and disappeared.

The entire process was completely silent.

……

three days later.

Washington, D.C.

Inside a discreet, upscale restaurant that is only open to VIP members.

The private room was covered with heavy Persian carpets, and the walls were adorned with oil paintings by unknown artists. The air was filled with the mixed aromas of expensive cigars and aged whiskey.

Captain Evan Cross sat at one side of the dining table.

Across from him sat a man who looked to be around sixty years old.

The man's hair was neatly combed, he wore gold-rimmed glasses, and his custom-made suit was quite expensive.

He is a former deputy director of the CIA and now a spokesperson for a large "patriotic businessmen's alliance" on Wall Street.

"Captain Cross, thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule." The man smiled and personally poured Cross a glass of expensive Scotch whisky.

Cross didn't touch his glass; he just looked at him calmly.

"Please speak your mind."

"Well, soldiers are always so direct." The man put down his bottle, leaned forward, and created an atmosphere of open communication.

"Captain, are you loyal to America?"

This is a question with malicious intent.

Cross didn't answer, he just looked at him quietly.

The man continued, seemingly oblivious to his own words: "I believe you are certainly loyal, and that is precisely why I must tell you, America... is being torn apart from within by His Excellency Roosevelt, that great former president."

He lowered his voice.

"His forced collection of 'new policy' taxes has dealt a devastating blow to our free market economy, causing trillions of dollars in wealth to vanish into thin air, shaking the very foundations of our nation!"

"He may be a protector of the nation, but he is also a dictator! His actions are pushing America down a dangerous, out-of-control path! He doesn't understand modern economics; he only knows how to plunder!"

The man's words grew increasingly vehement, as if he were accusing a thief who had stolen the country.

"The president and those idiots in Congress are blinded by the illusion that the Holy Grail can wipe out the national debt. They've chosen to compromise, to dance with the devil! But we can't! We, who truly love this country and built its economic order, cannot stand idly by!"

He paused for a moment, observing Cross's reaction.

But Cross's expression remained unchanged.

The man had no choice but to reveal his true colors.

"Captain Cross, you are his Master, the only one who can influence him."

"We, an alliance of countless patriotic businessmen, hope to reach a cooperation agreement with you."

"We don't need you to betray him, nor do we need you to hurt him. We just need you... to use your status as Master to 'persuade' him, to 'guide' him, and to make him understand that his actions are harming this country."

"Make him point his gun at our enemies, not at our own people."

After saying that, he took a document out of his pocket and pushed it in front of Cross.

"In return, we will set up a foundation for you with an initial capital of five billion US dollars. You can use it to do whatever you want, charity, investment, or... campaigning."

"We will fully support you in entering politics. With your resume and reputation, you will be able to sit in the Oval Office of the White House within ten years."

"Think about it, Captain. You could lead this country in a more proper way, to fulfill your oath to protect the people, instead of just being a safety pin on a weapon, as you are now."

Five billion US dollars.

The ladder to the pinnacle of power.

These are conditions that could drive anyone crazy.

Silence fell over the private room.

The man leaned back in his chair, waiting for Cross's answer. He believed that no one could resist such a temptation.

Evan Cross has finally made a move.

He finished reading the documents on the table and then pushed them back.

He didn't look at the man opposite him, but instead beckoned to the waiter.

"Check out."

Two words, clear and calm.

The waiter respectfully stepped forward and handed over the bill.

Cross took out his credit card, swiped it, and signed it—the whole process was seamless.

After doing all this, he stood up and straightened his military uniform.

From beginning to end, he didn't say another word to the former CIA deputy director, nor did he look at him again.

He turned around and walked steadily toward the door of the private room.

The man was stunned; he hadn't expected this reaction at all.

"Captain Cross! What do you mean by this? Don't you understand the implications?"

Evan Cross did not pause for a moment.

He pulled open the heavy wooden door, and the light from outside shone in.

He walked out of the restaurant without looking back.