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

Conference room in the Geneva underground nuclear bunker.

There was a loud bang.

The American representative slammed his hand on the solid wood conference table, crumpled the joint proposal document targeting Funina into a ball, and threw it hard on the ground.

"Since neither of you is willing to compromise, then let's see who has the best skills!" He didn't even take the suit jacket draped over the back of the chair, turned around and strode towards the door.

Two muscular bodyguards immediately followed, and the heavy blast door was roughly pulled open, followed by a loud slam as it was slammed shut.

The Chinese representative remained as steady as a mountain.

He picked up the thermos on the table, slowly finished the last sip of goji berry tea, put the lid back on, straightened up, and adjusted his collar. "The meeting is now adjourned. Take care of yourselves." With that, he calmly left with the technical officer behind him.

The Russian representative didn't even bother with pleasantries. He simply gestured to his secretary behind him and strode out of the conference room. He needed to hurry and make a phone call to the military bigwigs in China to compete for extraordinary resources. The Russians never minced words.

The representatives of the remaining small and medium-sized countries, who did not possess nuclear weapons or aircraft carrier fleets, looked at each other in bewilderment. Everyone understood that the world order had been completely overturned, and the frenzy of seizing extraordinary relics had officially begun. These small countries could only pray that a war would not break out on their own doorstep.

At Ramstein Air Base in Germany, air raid sirens pierced the night sky as NATO's "Operation Griffin Spear" was fully launched.

Delta Force, SAS Special Air Service, KSK Special Assault Team.

The three most formidable special forces units on the entire planet were scattered and reorganized within fifteen minutes. This unit was codenamed "The Reapers".

"Quickly! All personnel board! Bring all heavy weapons! Load all bullets!" The burly commander roared frantically across the tarmac, using a megaphone. "Remember! There are no friendly forces on this mission! If you encounter any unidentified armed groups, open fire immediately! No need to ask for permission!"

Seventeen minutes later, six large transport planes, fully loaded with special forces and heavy equipment, soared into the clouds, their noses turning directly toward the African continent, with Cairo, Egypt as their target.

Inside the cabin, a Delta Force veteran wiped his automatic rifle, cursing, "This is outrageous! Are we going to steal some alien technology? Have those big shots up there lost their minds?"

The SAS commando next to him sneered.

"Forget about technology. The commander said that if we get it, we'll be the saviors of all mankind. If we don't, we'll die in the desert. Everyone, keep your eyes peeled. I heard there are quite a few people going."

The capital of China.

In the underground command center of the Ninth Bureau, Chen Jianguo sat imposingly in the main seat, with a top-secret geological exploration map of the Qinling Mountains spread out on his desk, next to a giant sand table.

"Chief, the 'Tomb Guardians' special operations team has assembled." The deputy reported loudly, holding a tablet computer. "The army's top reconnaissance soldiers, demolition experts, and information warfare specialists are all here. Heavy transport helicopters are already on standby at the airport and can be airdropped into the heart of the Qinling Mountains at any time."

"Very good." Chen Jianguo tossed the red and blue pencils he was holding directly onto the map. "There's no pre-planning for this mission. We don't even know if the target is alive or dead. It's all about improvisation. Remember, treat any armed individuals crossing the border as armed intruders! Notify them to depart immediately!"

at the same time.

The Kremlin bypassed the conventional chain of command and issued the highest order: the Northern Fleet's secret home port.

The massive Belgorod nuclear submarine slowly slid into the icy seawater, its belly carrying the terrifying Poseidon nuclear torpedo. The Russians had no intention of sending infantrymen to the desert or rainforest to eat dirt; they had chosen the most barbaric means of deterrence.

"Reporting to the captain, the reactor is operating normally, and the target area has been locked," the first mate reported loudly.

The captain stared at the sonar screen.

"Full speed down, target the Red Sea. If these Western politicians dare to try and take it all for themselves, we'll send them to meet their maker." Anyone who dares to monopolize Egypt's artifacts will face a nuclear tsunami tens of meters high. This kind of table-flipping approach is very much in line with their temperament.

The atmosphere in the Pentagon's operations room was frighteningly oppressive.

"Sir! Something's happened in Peru!" The intelligence officer was sweating profusely and rushed in without even knocking.

"Speak!" The four-star general slammed his hand on the table.

"The Peruvian government just held a press conference ten minutes ago, announcing that in order to protect the ancient Inca ruins from destruction, it has designated a 500-kilometer radius around Cusco as an indefinite military restricted zone, prohibiting any unauthorized aircraft and personnel from entering."

The intelligence officer swallowed hard, his voice trembling.

"We just received inside information that a major Eastern power has approved an astronomical sum of infrastructure construction aid funds for them, and the money has already been deposited into their account."

"Fuck!" The general grabbed the coffee cup from the table and smashed it against the wall, spilling coffee all over the floor. "These bastards who take money to do things! Our infiltration plan is ruined! This is blatant robbery!"

The aftershocks of great power rivalry have quickly spread to ordinary people's lives and to the screens of international air traffic control.

Egypt's Sinai Peninsula, Peru's Cusco, and China's Qinling Mountains.

Three huge circular areas were marked in a glaring blood red.

All civil and cargo routes across the entire planet were forcibly diverted within three hours, and the screens at various international airports were filled with red text indicating delays and cancellations.

Twitter and short video platforms are in complete chaos. All sorts of doomsday theories and alien invasion theories are spreading like wildfire. Netizens have no idea what's going on and can only speculate wildly based on the blocked airspace. The top ten trending topics are all about the no-fly zone.

InterContinental Hotel Rome.

Jiang Ming leaned back on the leather sofa, looking at the global flight tracking software on his phone. The three huge blank no-fly zones on the screen were particularly glaring.

The major powers acted quite quickly; their efficiency in clearing out the area is indeed impressive.

Jiang Ming curled his lip. He felt that the plot of regular army fighting positional warfare was not exciting enough and was too bland. If it was just a few special forces soldiers firing a few shots in the woods, the audience would not feel any excitement at all.

With a thought, the system panel popped up in mid-air, and Jiang Ming clicked on the hidden attribute bar of [The First Emperor's Military Command Talisman].

He artificially increased the "priority of signal hijacking against unmanned combat units" by 10%.

"You like using high-tech to explore, huh? Then let me show you the rules of our ancestors." Jiang Ming tossed his phone aside. He was really looking forward to seeing those expensive drones collectively rebel; it would definitely be a good show.

Jiang Ming pressed the service bell by the bedside.

"Send me a black truffle steak and a bottle of chilled soda," he said into the walkie-talkie.

After hanging up the phone, he shifted to a more comfortable position and lay down.

While everyone else is busy running around like crazy, and the world is about to explode, he, the culprit, is the most idle. This feeling of treating the world like a chessboard and casually manipulating it is truly intoxicating.

He glanced at his emotional value balance in the system again. This group of desperate criminals, frantically rushing towards their destination, were providing him with emotional value like crazy. Fanaticism, greed, and excitement—these emotions, while not as intense as fear, were plentiful due to their sheer number, and the continuous influx of them made him feel great.

Temporary command post on the outskirts of the Qinling Mountains.

Wearing a safety helmet, Chen Jianguo looked at the dark, primeval forest ahead, where several heavy tracked geological exploration vehicles were parked by the roadside, gathering dust.

"Director, why not use mechanical exploration? Can't we just use a sonar vehicle to push it across? This is too inefficient," the technician complained, holding his tablet.

"That thing can even evade the infrared scans of dozens of satellites in the sky. Do you expect these few broken machines to find it?" Chen Jianguo sneered. "Don't use the same methods you use on mineral veins to deal with extraordinary relics. That thing definitely has extremely strong counter-surveillance characteristics."

He turned to look at the entire geological brigade behind him.

"Shut down all the machines! Get the most ancient tools! Luoyang shovels, ghost-detecting hammers, all by manpower! And while you're at it, deploy those tens of thousands of miniature sonar detectors. I refuse to believe we can't find it even if we dig three feet into the ground. Everyone put on your liberation shoes and head into the mountains!"

An old soldier took a mortar and hammered it into the ground. When he pulled it out, the soil that came out with the hammer tip was a strange color.

"Report! The soil structure here is wrong! It's like it was forcibly turned over by some enormous energy!" the veteran shouted.

Chen Jianguo strode over, grabbed a handful of soil, and smelled it. "There's no smell of gunpowder, no smell of diesel fuel from excavation." He patted the soil off his hands. "This is it! Spread the detection net down! Scrub it out inch by inch!"

At the same time, across the ocean, at the CIA's safe house in Cairo.

A senior intelligence analyst stared intently at the waveform graph on his computer screen, clutching his already thinning hair, his eyes bloodshot and red.

"Boss! There's a huge problem!" The analyst pushed open the door to the director's office.

"The decay curves of these three energy sources completely defy any common sense in known physics! They are not passively releasing energy." The analyst slammed a thick stack of data reports on the table. "They're preparing a major event! They're 'actively' waiting for a specific point in time! Working backwards, their appearance in the world coincides with the live broadcast time we've set!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than the internal network alarm in the safe house went off like crazy. The intelligence chief rushed to the computer and his face turned extremely grim.

An extremist group called "Ark of Truth" suddenly posted on the dark web, with the title highlighted in bold red.

They not only claimed to have known the details of the divine artifacts all along, but also posted the precise coordinates of the Scales of Anubis, with the coordinate data accurate to six decimal places!

The post ended with a line in bold: "Heading to Egypt! Ushering in a new era of human evolution! Never let politicians steal the divine gift that belongs to all humanity! This is the power bestowed upon all beings by God!"

This post was like a lit match thrown directly into a barrel of gasoline filled with gunpowder.

"Investigate immediately! Where did this lousy organization called 'Ark of Truth' come from?" The intelligence chief pounded on his keyboard. "I need all the information on their leader within ten minutes!"

The subordinate nodded frantically, sweating profusely as he typed furiously on the computer. "Sir, we can't find anything! Their IP addresses are jumping wildly between tens of thousands of nodes worldwide. Their encryption algorithm is even more advanced than our military network!"

Mercenaries, outlaws, fanatical religious activists, and even ordinary people hoping to change their fate all began to flock to Egypt by any means necessary.

The price of black market arms in North Africa tripled in ten minutes, countless armed pickup trucks sped across the desert, and even the lowest-level street thugs were buying plane tickets with their worn-out weapons, all wanting a piece of the pie.

"Sir, the situation in Egypt is completely out of control." The intelligence officer's voice trembled as he looked at the densely packed data on abnormal personnel movements on the large screen. "The whole of Egypt has become a super powder keg. We might not be facing special forces from some country, but hundreds of thousands of reckless lunatics!"

There are only 19 hours left until the 24-hour global public announcement set by Jiang Ming.