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

Mornings in Liuxi Village are like any other day.

The rooster crowed several times, and the morning light bathed the entire village in a warm glow.

Luo Weidong and Li Xiulan sat at the dining table with a simple breakfast in front of them.

Just then, the village loudspeaker blared.

Luo Youfu's voice came from the loudspeaker, with a hissing sound, and his tone was completely different from usual—usually when he called people to meetings or gave announcements, he would speak slowly, as if he were chatting.

Today was different; his voice was urgent and heavy.

"Attention all villagers! Attention all villagers! Turn on the TV immediately! Quickly! Right now!"

Li Xiulan paused in mid-air with the steamed bun in her hand, glancing at Luo Weidong.

Luo Weidong also looked at her, and neither of them moved, as if they hadn't heard clearly.

The loudspeaker blared again, this time with even greater urgency: "All villagers, immediately drop everything you're doing and turn on the television!"

Luo Weidong put down his porridge bowl, stood up, walked to the living room, picked up the remote control, and pressed a button.

The TV turned on, and instead of the usual annoying gibberish of several seconds, it showed a single image—a spacious field, with morning light shining on the ground, a neatly arranged column in the distance, and a young man in a dark green military uniform with three gold stars on his epaulets and his hat worn neatly.

Luo Weidong's hand froze in mid-air, and he almost dropped the remote control.

Li Xiulan followed him over and stood next to him, watching the television screen.

Her mouth slowly opened, her eyes widened, and she didn't even notice the steamed bun in her hand being crushed.

She knew that young man.

She had been looking at that face for twenty-seven years.

"Xiao Fei..."

Her voice was very soft, as if she were afraid of disturbing the people on TV.

Luo Weidong remained silent.

He stared at the screen, at the military uniform, at the three stars, and at his son's calm, unfamiliar, yet familiar face.

His Adam's apple bobbed, he swallowed, and then he pulled Li Xiulan to sit on the sofa, his eyes never leaving the screen.

The village loudspeaker blared again, this time it was Luo Youfu's voice, but it wasn't an announcement anymore. It sounded like he was talking to someone nearby, or perhaps to himself: "Is that Xiao Fei? Is that Luo Fei?"

In less than three minutes, Luo Fei's living room was filled with people.

Aunt Wang was the first to arrive, still wearing her apron and holding a spatula with egg wash on it. She had seen Luo Fei on TV and hadn't even had time to take off her apron before running over to their house.

As soon as she entered the door, she called out, "Xiulan! Xiulan! Isn't that your Xiaofei on TV?"

Then there were a few neighbors not far away, and a few distant relatives.

Everyone stood in the living room, huddled together, staring at the television.

Someone whispered, "Is it really Xiaofei?"

Someone chimed in, "Look at that face, who else could it be but him?"

Some people said, "When did he join the army? And how did he become such a high-ranking officer!"

Everyone was talking at once, their voices mingling together.

Li Xiulan did not answer anyone's questions.

She sat on the sofa, and Luo Weidong sat next to her. Their hands were clasped together at some point.

Her eyes were fixed on the young man on the screen, and her eyes reddened.

She just looked at him as if he were someone she had raised for twenty-seven years but had never truly known.

Luo Youfu squeezed in through the door, panting, sweat dripping down his face and wrinkles.

He walked up to the television, blocking everyone's view. Someone behind him called out, "Uncle Youfu, sit down!" Only then did he realize what was happening. He quickly sat down in the chair next to him, his eyes glued to the screen, muttering, "What did I tell you? I always said Xiaofei was a promising kid..."

But nobody paid him any attention.

Everyone was glued to the television.

Such scenes are not limited to Liuxi Village.

Across the Dragon Kingdom, schools were closed, and all the electronic screens or projectors in the classrooms were turned on. Students sat quietly in their seats, watching the screens.

The teacher stood beside the podium, neither lecturing nor maintaining discipline, because it wasn't necessary—all the students' eyes were fixed on the screen, no one spoke, no one daydreamed, and even the most mischievous students sat up straight.

In the company's conference room, the boss stopped his incessant rambling and looked excitedly at the young general on the projection screen.

In the office area, no one was working. Everyone had put down their keyboards, mice, and documents and were looking at the young man in military uniform on the computer screen.

Some people forgot to drink their coffee, and it got cold; others dropped their pens on the ground, bent down to pick them up, but their eyes never left the screen.

Inside the shopping mall, all the large screens were displaying the same image.

The customer stopped in his tracks, the sales assistant put down the clothes, and the cleaning lady put down the mop.

From the first floor to the top floor, the railings on every floor were crowded with people, all looking up at the huge screens. The entire mall was as quiet as an empty building.

On the subway, people held up their phones, all displaying the same image.

Some people were standing, some were squatting, and some were leaning against the car door. Everyone's posture was different, but the expressions on their faces all showed barely suppressed excitement.

The entire planet Earth is watching.

The same live stream signal is being broadcast simultaneously on online platforms in various countries.

No one knows how this signal was connected, and no one can turn it off.

The technical staff were sweating profusely as they typed away at their keyboards, trying to block, interfere with, and cut off the signal, but no matter what they did, the picture remained clear and the sound remained stable.

On a TV station in the United States, the host was broadcasting live. The director was yelling "Cut it off! Cut it off!" in the headset, but the picture couldn't be cut off, and the GG (Goblin) signal couldn't be inserted. The entire channel was occupied by that signal.

The host's expression changed from professional to confused, then from confused to fear. Finally, he took off his headphones, leaned back in his chair, looked at the screen, and stopped struggling.

A Japanese online platform experienced server crashes within the first minute of a live stream starting, yet the live stream signal continued to play, as if it existed independently of all servers and required no support.

The engineers looked at each other, bewildered, unsure of what technology or power this was.

In a small town in India, a group of people gathered around a television set, watching a young man in military uniform.

Someone whispered, "The Dragon Kingdom is about to get serious," but no one responded.

They all saw the fifteen sets of dark blue armored vehicles standing at the front of the formation. Some thought they were just models, for show, while others mocked, "The Chinese only know how to put on these kinds of empty gestures."

The atmosphere in high-level conference rooms in different countries is completely different.

The lights were all on in the underground conference room in the United States.

The same scene was playing on the screen: several men in suits sat on either side of a long table, and no one spoke.

Someone recognized Luo Fei, the person they had specifically discussed and ultimately decided "not to mess with."

Now he's actually wearing the uniform of a Chinese general, standing in front of the live broadcast camera.

"When did he become a general in the Dragon Kingdom?"

Someone asked a question. No one could answer it.

Inside the Japanese Ministry of Defense building, several people stood in front of a screen, their faces ashen.

They saw the fifteen suits of armor, and someone said, "They're models, right?" but no one responded.

Because no one can be sure if it is a model.

If it were true—they dared not think further.

The small countries surrounding the Dragon Kingdom, those that usually like to cause trouble on the border, are unusually quiet at this moment.

The phone in the leader's office rang incessantly, but no one answered.

They are waiting for the live stream to continue.

In the live broadcast, Luo Fei turned around and faced the fifteen soldiers in training uniforms.

He spoke, and the live broadcast delivered every word clearly to every screen around the world.

"Get ready."

Fifteen people stepped forward at the same time and walked up to the fifteen sets of armor.

Each suit of armor stood firmly on the ground, its deep blue shell gleaming with a cold luster in the morning light, while the flags on its chest and shoulders were as red as a burning flame.

They stood in front of their armor, took a deep breath, and extended their right hand, placing their palm on the armor's chest.

The armor flashed, the energy core flickered, and then the entire armor unfolded, like a metallic flower.

All the components opened simultaneously, enveloping their bodies.

Finally, the helmet; the moment the visor fell down, it made a very soft "click".

The living room of Luo Fei's house in Liuxi Village was quiet.

Everyone stared, mouths agape, at the fifteen figures in dark blue armor on the television screen.

Someone dropped their cup, and it shattered on the ground, but no one looked down to look.

Aunt Wang's spatula fell to the ground with a clatter, but she didn't pick it up.

Li Xiulan held Luo Weidong's hand, her nails digging into the back of his hand, but Luo Weidong didn't feel any pain.

Uncle Youfu stood up from his chair, leaning forward as if he wanted to crawl into the television.

His mouth was open, his chin was trembling, and his eyes were shining.

Social media across the entire planet is buzzing with excitement, with the live stream's comment section going crazy.

"Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, that's not a model!"

"Wang Defa? Automatic wearable devices? What kind of cutting-edge technology is this?"

"Holy crap! When did China get something this awesome?"

"Fuck! I thought it was just for show, but it's real!"

"My mom asked me why I was kneeling while looking at my phone."

"Isn't this supposed to be a sci-fi movie?"

The mocking voices have stopped.

Those who called it a "model," a "showpiece," or a "bluff" fell silent at that moment.

It's not that I don't want to say it, it's that I can't say it.

The facts are undeniable: fifteen suits of armor were automatically donned in front of over a billion people. This wasn't special effects; it was a live broadcast, it was real.

In the conference room in the United States, someone stood up, and the chair slid backward, hitting the wall with a loud thud.

No one blamed him, because everyone wanted to stand up.

A somewhat hoarse voice rang out: "We estimated his personal abilities beforehand, but we didn't expect that there would be something like this."

On the Japanese warship, the commander on the bridge was looking at the screen when his coffee cup fell to the ground.

The coffee spilled on the floor, steaming, but he didn't look down. He stared at the fifteen armored figures on the screen, mentally calculating—were these destroyers, a few hundred soldiers, and a few mushroom shells enough?

He didn't know the answer, but he knew that the expression on his face must be terrible.

Inside the Dongdu office building, those who had been clamoring to "resist to the end" had fallen silent.

Someone was sitting in a chair, resting their forehead on their hands, their expression unreadable.

Someone stood by the window, with their back to everyone, their shoulders slightly hunched.

Someone was flipping through documents, but stopped after two pages because they couldn't concentrate on reading them at all.

The images of those armored vehicles kept replaying in my mind.

In the live stream, Luo Fei looked at the fifteen soldiers who were already wearing armor and nodded.

He turned around, faced the camera, and said one sentence.

"Set off."