I started by watching videos, and I chose 10,000 combat power.

The speed at which news of Japan spreads within China is almost comparable to the speed at which Luo Fei flies.

When footage of the first missile site explosion appeared on social media, most people thought it was a military exercise—flames shot into the sky, black smoke billowed, and the sirens of ambulances echoed sharply in the background of the video.

Someone was shouting in Japanese, "Run!" "Call an ambulance!" "There are still people alive here!"

Then, footage of a second, a third... explosions began to appear one after another.

Different cities, different shooting angles, yet all present the same flames, the same black smoke, and the same sirens.

Someone in the video labeled the exact location as the site where the US's Axe missiles were deployed on the southern islands of Japan.

The comments section gradually shifted from initial questions like "What happened?" and "Was it an accident during the drill?" to "Is it another terrorist attack?"

The comments were refreshed at a rapid pace, and a sense of panic spread quickly between the lines.

Inside the Ministry of Defense building, the telephones in the corridor rang incessantly, but no one answered or hung up; they just kept ringing.

A secretary in a gray suit ran from the end of the corridor, her leather shoes clicking on the marble floor, her hurried footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

He pushed open the wooden door, behind which was the Minister of Defense's office.

The room was filled with smoke. Several people stood around a long table, their ashtrays overflowing with cigarette butts. Silence reigned.

The secretary's voice trembled slightly: "Your Excellency, the 4th Escort Flotilla of the Maritime Self-Defense Force... has lost contact with all four ships. The last one's communication signal disappeared fifteen minutes ago and has not been restored since."

Still, no one spoke.

The Defense Minister sat at the top of the long table, his teacup long since cold.

He stared at the cup of tea for a long time, then looked up and his gaze swept over everyone present.

His eyes were bloodshot, his eye bags were deep, and his lips were chapped. He looked as if he had aged more than ten years in an instant.

"Issue an announcement."

He spoke, his voice hoarse.

"All missile defense positions on our southern islands have been suspected of being attacked by laser weapons, resulting in numerous civilian casualties. The 4th Escort Flotilla of the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force was attacked by an unidentified weapon while conducting a routine patrol, and all officers and crew members of the ship died heroically. This is a terrorist attack. We, the Japanese, will never yield."

Someone hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Your Excellency, do we have any evidence—such as satellite imagery, radar data, or other evidence that can prove which country or force carried out the attack?"

The Minister of Defense turned his gaze to that person, his eyes cold.

"Evidence? Our patrol ships sank, our fleet sank, our missile sites were bombed, and our civilians are weeping in the ruins. What more evidence do you need? You can count the number of countries on the entire planet with laser weapons on one hand. Don't you know the process of elimination?"

The man shrank back and fell silent.

The secretary turned and walked out of the office, and hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor again.

At 4 p.m. sharp, the press conference hall of the Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs was packed with people.

Camera lenses were densely pointed at the podium, flashes crackled, and reporters held recorders, mobile phones, and tablets, their expressions a mixture of tension, excitement, and fear.

When the Defense Minister stepped onto the podium, the flashbulbs went off even more intensely, illuminating the entire hall as if it were daytime.

He stood behind the podium, a thick stack of manuscript paper in front of him, but he didn't open it. He just stood quietly, facing dozens of cameras and all the Japanese people watching the live broadcast.

He spoke, his voice hoarse, each word emphasized: "This afternoon, missile defense positions on our southern islands were attacked. It is suspected that laser weapons destroyed multiple military facilities, causing numerous civilian casualties."

"At the same time, the 4th Escort Flotilla of the Taiwan Maritime Self-Defense Force was also attacked by unidentified weapons while en route to the waters west of the Diaoyu Islands. All four ships and all officers and men of the crew were killed in action."

He paused for a moment, then looked up and stared directly into the camera.

His eyes were red-rimmed—after hours without rest, arguing, weighing options, and making decisions with his staff in a smoke-filled room, his eyes were already exhausted.

But in front of the camera, that red color looked like tears welling up in her eyes, filled with anger and barely holding back from spilling out.

"This is a terrorist attack."

He said, word by word, "We will not yield, nor will we back down. We will unite with the United States, South Korea, India, and all other peace-loving countries to jointly confront this inhuman terrorist attack."

After speaking, he neither bowed nor answered any questions, and turned to leave.

The manuscript paper on the podium was pulled by his sleeve and scattered on the ground, and no one picked it up.

The reporters froze for two seconds, then the hall erupted in chaos. Everyone stood up simultaneously, raised their hands, and shouted out questions. Their voices were so mixed together that no one could understand what anyone was saying.

But the Defense Minister had already disappeared behind the side door, which closed, shutting out the sounds, questions, and flashes of light.

Japanese chicken was instantly ignited on domestic social media.

Of the top ten trending topics, eight are related to this incident: suspected laser weapon, annihilation of the Maritime Self-Defense Force, missile site explosion, Defense Minister's press conference, declaration of war against terrorism, joint action with the United States, and never yielding.

Each trending topic is followed by a bright red "Explosive" sign.

In the comments section, the vast majority of voices were angry.

"Eliminate terrorism!"

"This is intolerable!"

"They must pay the price!"

"The Japanese chicken is not the same as it was decades ago."

Similar comments flooded the screen, with likes rapidly climbing from a few thousand to tens of thousands and hundreds of thousands, the numbers constantly fluctuating and the emotions continuing to build.

Some people launched petitions on social media, demanding that the government immediately avenge the innocent people; others gathered in the streets, holding signs and chanting slogans, demanding that the government take a tough stance.

But not everyone is calling for tough measures.

A military commentator with millions of followers published a lengthy article, beginning by asking: "Have you considered which country or force would choose to take action at this time?"

In his article, he listed several facts: Japan has deployed US "Giant Axe" missiles on its southern islands, the range of which countries' cities can be covered; the launch sites are set up near schools and hospitals, which is an act explicitly prohibited by international law; Japan's Maritime Self-Defense Force fleet is equipped with anti-ship missiles and is ordered to intercept civilian ships of which country, threatening to launch missiles if the ships leave.

He wrote: "Who pointed a gun at someone first? Who hid missiles behind children and the sick first? The Japanese government, having taken these actions, is now suffering the consequences, yet it runs to the world crying out that it is the victim—how is this any different from a robber breaking into someone's home with a knife, lying on the ground crying for help after being attacked by the homeowner?"

Within ten minutes of the article being published, he was overwhelmed by a barrage of criticism in the comments section.

"Traitor!"

"running dog!"

"How much money did you receive?"

Similar comments flooded in one after another, like a swarm of enraged wasps, buzzing and ignoring everything except attacks.

But some people left quiet, tentative comments in his comment section: "He makes a good point..."

"Those missiles really shouldn't have been placed next to the school..."

Why would the Maritime Self-Defense Force intercept civilian vessels?

But these voices were too weak and too few in number to be quickly swallowed up by the tide of anger, leaving not a trace.

Another voice has begun to emerge: doubts have arisen about the United States.

A retired official who had previously worked at the Ministry of Defense made remarks on a live online television program, speaking in a lecture-like tone: "Let me ask you a question. We all know which countries possess laser weapons. But who are they? And why would they use them at this time? Don't they know this could trigger a war? Don't they know it would be condemned by the international community? The decision-makers of those major powers are not reckless; they act with their own logic and rhythm."

He paused briefly, took a sip of water, and continued, "On the other hand, who benefits most from this? Who would be happiest if Japan went to war with other countries? It would be the United States. They have been pushing Japan to confront its neighboring countries, constantly selling weapons to Japan, and deploying missiles on Japanese territory."

"Now that the missiles are destroyed, the fleet is sunk, and relations between Japan and other countries with which it has had conflicts have plummeted to a freezing point—this is exactly what the United States wanted to see."

"Don't forget, if the United States can control cell phones and pagers to explode, then is it possible for them to control their own missiles to explode? Is it possible for them to tamper with the warships we've modified for them? Technically speaking, it's entirely feasible. Motive-wise, they have every reason to do so."

The program host interrupted him: "You mean, this might have been the work of the United States, which then tried to frame other countries or powers?"

The retired official did not respond directly, but simply smiled faintly.

"I have no evidence, I just want to raise a question for everyone to think about: In this world, who do you think most wants a violent conflict between Japan and China?"

This clip was captured and went viral on social media.

The number of reposts exceeded 500,000 within two hours, and the comment section became a complete mess.

Some called him a "lackey of the United States," some said he "spoke the truth," some demanded he produce evidence, and some said he was "bought off."

But regardless, that question has taken root in many people's hearts, like a seed falling into the soil. No matter how you trample on it, or pretend it doesn't exist, it's still there, silently taking root and sprouting.

On the streets outside the Japanese government building, the number of protesters continued to grow.

Some people held up signs that read "Declare war on terrorism," some unfurled banners that read "Japan will not yield," and others stood by with red eyes and tightly pursed lips, dressed in Self-Defense Force uniforms.

However, a few people held up signs that were different from the others. The handwriting on those signs was crooked and messy, clearly hastily made.

We need the truth!

"We don't want war!"

"Who is using us?"

They held their signs low and shouted their slogans softly, standing silently at the edge of the crowd, like a few blades of grass growing in a corner, swaying uncertainly in the wind.

As the evening sun set, it bathed the streets in an orange-red hue. The light slanted in through the gaps between the buildings, illuminating the signs and the faces that held expressions of anger, sadness, or confusion.