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

Luo Fei had just finished speaking.

Xiao Wan's voice came through the cockpit speakers: "Roger. Particle cannon locked onto target. Charging... Charging complete. Fire."

There was no flash of light or any visual warning from the cockpit's windshield.

A spot of light suddenly appeared on the surface of Saturn's moon Iapetus.

The point of light expanded rapidly, as if someone had ignited a small sun at the core of the satellite.

The icy surface instantly vaporized under the high temperature, and white steam gushed out from the cracks in the satellite.

Immediately afterwards, the satellite shattered and disintegrated, like a piece of glass struck by a hammer, with cracks spreading from the center outwards, each crack representing a structural break.

Ice, rocks, dust—all matter lost their gravitational pull at the same moment and began to scatter in all directions.

Large fragments tumbled and flew outwards.

The tiny fragments, finer than sand, resembled a wisp of grayish-white mist, vibrating and spreading in place.

The entire disintegration process lasted less than two seconds.

A natural satellite with a diameter of nearly 200 kilometers disappeared in less than five seconds from the moment Luo Fei gave the order to vanish.

Saturn's rings were originally the most iconic structure around Saturn, composed of countless icy particles, hundreds of thousands of kilometers wide but only tens of meters thick, resembling a giant record spread out in space.

Now, the remains of Saturn's moon Iapetus are slowly being incorporated into this "cosmic record".

Those fragments will not disappear into thin air; they will orbit Saturn and, over the next few million years, be gradually reshaped by Saturn's gravity, becoming new components of Saturn's rings.

The barrage of comments on global live streaming platforms did not "explode" at this moment, but instead came to a standstill.

The server was still running, the bandwidth was working normally, and the video continued to play, but no new comments appeared on the screen.

It's not that the audience is unwilling to comment, but rather that everyone lost the ability to type at the same moment.

With hands on the keyboard and fingers hovering above the screen, the brain issues the instruction to "type something," but the fingers refuse to comply—because their owners are experiencing an unprecedented emotional shock.

Someone slid off the sofa onto the floor, their legs already weak.

Someone hugged the person next to them tightly, regardless of whether they knew each other or not.

Someone was crying, for reasons unknown, but tears kept streaming down their face.

Someone's mouth was open, their chin trembling slightly, but they couldn't utter a sound.

That's a satellite, not an ordinary rock or a common building, but a natural satellite with a diameter of nearly 200 kilometers that has been orbiting Saturn for billions of years.

Its history predates that of the human species; it existed long before humans were still picking fruit from trees.

Now, it's gone.

In just a few seconds, a sentence, an instruction.

The cockpit of the Millennium Falcon was completely silent.

Luo Fei stood by the front window, staring at the slowly spreading fragmented cloud, his face expressionless.

There was no excitement or pride in his eyes.

He turned around, faced the live broadcast, and began to speak.

The sound was still not loud, but the live broadcast ball clearly transmitted every word to every screen on Earth.

"The particle cannon that just destroyed Saturn's moon Iapetus was one of the standard weapons on the 'Eternal Falcon'."

The Calda civilization fleet, which is about to arrive on Earth, has about thirty ships with similar or even more advanced performance than the "Eternal Falcon".

The weapon systems of each spaceship are probably more powerful than my cannon.

The world has only one hundred days left.

One hundred days from now, this fleet will appear in the solar system, or directly in the skies above Earth. They are not here for friendly exchanges, but to plunder—including the resources of the solar system, the environment of Earth, and you; they will enslave you.

He paused.

"The only thing Blue Star needs to do now is to stop all conflicts, wars, confrontations, sanctions and blockades."

From this day forward, all nations, all forces, and all organizations shall lay down their arms and cease hostilities.

Concentrate all resources, manpower, and intelligence on one thing—to elevate Earth's technological level, industrial capacity, and defense capabilities to a level sufficient to fight off alien fleets within one hundred days.

This is not just a matter for one country, nor for one region, but a matter for all humanity on this planet.

"If any country or force does not abide by the rules and tries to create conflict or start a war at this critical moment, I will sanction them."

It's neither an economic sanction nor a diplomatic protest.

Instead, it will be done in the way you just saw.

He finished speaking.

There was no "thank you everyone" or "goodbye," only a simple "Xiao Wan, this is the end of the live stream" to Xiao Wan.

The live broadcast signals on all platforms were simultaneously interrupted. The magnificent image of Saturn's rings on the screen vanished instantly, turning completely black with the words "Live broadcast ended" displayed in the center. The television station then resumed normal programming.

While the more than five billion people on Earth were still reeling from the shock, the live stream chat reappeared after a few seconds of silence. However, this time it wasn't a barrage of comments, but rather a slow, sequential scrolling of text, with each line of text remaining on the screen for a longer period than usual, because the number of people posting comments had noticeably decreased.

"My legs are still weak."

"A satellite... just like that, gone..."

"Did his last sentence mean that he would beat anyone who disobeyed him?"

"I believe it now, aliens really are coming."

Luo Fei turned his gaze away from the live broadcast sphere, and the cockpit immediately fell silent. He then ordered, "Xiao Wan, return to the valley."

Xiao Wan replied: "Received. Destination: Blue Star, Willow Creek Village Valley."

Outside the window, the view that had been filled with Saturn's rings instantly transformed into a valley scene. Sunlight filtered through the treetops, casting dappled shadows on the ground. A few withered leaves were lifted by a gentle breeze, swirling in the air before slowly drifting down to the ground.

With a slight thought, Luo Fei found himself in a conference room in Kyoto.

The corridor outside the conference room was crowded with people.

Some were dressed in military uniforms, some in suits, some in white coats, and some in civilian clothes. All eyes were focused on the tightly closed conference room door.

The scene inside the conference room was quite similar to that in the corridor outside; except for the spot marked by Luo Fei, the rest of the room was also full of people sitting or standing.

People squeezed to sit on the chairs on both sides of the long table, on the folding chairs against the wall, and even on the small coffee table in the corner that is usually used to pile up documents.

These people were not ordinary staff members, but rather figures that Luo Fei could only see on Chinese television news.

At this moment, they were crammed into this not-so-spacious conference room, without assistants, secretaries, or any entourage; they simply sat or stood together. The instant Luo Fei appeared, all eyes turned to him.

Director Qin stood up from the center of the long table.

"Xiao Luo, is what you just said true? The alien fleet is really coming?"

Director Qin's voice no longer carried its usual calm and steady tone.

Before Luo Fei could respond, another voice broke in. The speaker was a leader in military uniform, whose rank, judging from the seating arrangement, was second only to Elder Long. The general's stars on his epaulets gleamed under the lights, and his brows were tightly furrowed.

"Xiao Luo, can your spaceship hold its own against an alien fleet? You said their spaceships might be more advanced than yours. If it's one against thirty, do you still have a chance of winning?"

Another voice came from the corner; it belonged to a leader from the Ministry of Science and Technology. He had thinning hair, wore glasses with lenses as thick as the bottom of a beer bottle, and held up a mobile phone, the screen of which appeared to be displaying information he had just looked up.

What energy level would be needed for a particle cannon to destroy a satellite? Is it possible for our weapons to possess similar destructive power?

The crowd immediately began to discuss the matter animatedly, with questions and discussions rising and falling in waves.

Someone inquired about the specific parameters of the alien fleet.

Some people are concerned about how much preparation time Blue Star has left.

Some people are discussing what countermeasures China should take.

Some have suggested whether a nationwide mobilization order should be issued.

Every question is crucial, every question urgently needs an answer, but when everyone speaks at the same time, these questions turn into a vague "buzzing" sound.

Old Master Long sat in the center of the long table, with no documents or teacups in front of him, his hands resting flat on the table, fingers slightly spread, palms pressed against the surface.

His gaze remained fixed on Luo Fei, never wavering for a moment.

That gaze contained not scrutiny, but confirmation.

It's to confirm whether everything I just saw in the live stream is real.

To confirm whether the young man in front of you can really do those things.

To determine if there is still hope for humanity on Earth.

He raised his right hand, palm down, and slammed it hard on the table.

“Pah!”

Everyone in the conference room fell silent at the same time.

It wasn't because of the loudness of the slap, but because the person who slammed the table exuded an undeniable aura.

Silence descended in an instant.

The leader in military uniform closed his open mouth, the muscles at the corners of his mouth still tense as he was preparing to speak, and did not relax immediately.

Old Master Long's hand remained on the table, without being lifted.

His gaze slowly swept over everyone present, moving unhurriedly from left to right and from front to back, as if he were calling out names or confirming that everyone was still seated.

Finally, his gaze returned to Luo Fei, his right hand slowly clenched into a fist, then slowly withdrew and placed it on his side before he spoke.

"Listen to him. Ask him one by one, and let Comrade Luo Fei answer them one by one."