Super Rich: Starting the game by going back ten years to buy Bitcoin

Li Yichen glanced at the split-screen view that Ling'er had brought up.

Back in Russia, several heavily armored divisions were being used as targets by Mach 20 airships in the Siberian snowstorm.

India fared even worse; their defenses didn't even last ten minutes before several yellow giants stormed into the city of New Delhi.

As for the United States, the mess in Nevada hasn't been cleaned up yet, and the West Coast is facing a new round of airstrikes.

"If it's broken, it's broken."

Li Yichen leaned back in his leather swivel chair, his fingers tapping crisply on the table. "Cut a high-definition, uncensored version of the battle footage from the East Beach mudflats and upload it directly to the internet. Let these dreaming natives face reality."

"Brother, once this video comes out, those Western politicians will probably be so scared they'll wet their pants." Ling'er sat on the edge of the desk, swinging her two short legs.

"What I want is for them to be terrified." Li Yichen picked up his coffee cup, took a sip, and spoke in a calm tone, as if he were discussing what to have for dinner.

"Laying the keel of Starfleet requires a massive amount of special metals, and it's too slow for us to mine them ourselves. Let's release the video and shatter the spines of those Western lords. Let them obediently deliver the resources to our doorstep."

With a wave of her hand, Ling'er unleashed a massive stream of data that poured out along the quantum network.

In less than three minutes, servers on international social media platforms such as YouTube and Twitter all crashed.

The engineers scrambled to restart the backup line. The network had barely been restored when a video titled "A True Account of the East China Sea Defense Line" took over the most prominent spot on the homepage.

The video was made without any filters or special effects. A thousand Great Xia soldiers, clad in black armor, braved high-energy beams of light, drew their azure blades, and shredded the fearsome yellow giants that terrified the world into pieces on the beach.

Immediately afterwards, the dark gold Titan armor soared into the sky, withstanding the bombardment of the airship's main cannon, and smashed the alien shield and the monster leader into a pile of mangled flesh with a single punch.

Netizens stared at the screen, their fingers frozen in mid-air as they typed.

For the first half hour, they were posting on various forums, praying that Great Xia could use sheer numbers to hold off these monsters, so that the Western world could catch its breath.

Now, the parallel energy shield, the high-frequency plasma cutting blade, and the massive, oppressive mech shown in the footage have shattered their established worldview.

The comment section on Twitter refreshes at a rate of tens of thousands of messages per second.

"My God, tell me this is a new Hollywood sci-fi movie! The Great Xia's individual armor can actually withstand the energy main cannons of those monsters?"

"While the reliable ones are still using tanks to fight monsters, the Great Xia is already wreaking havoc in the sky with mechs. This isn't war; it's a one-sided, dimensional attack!"

"We're still queuing for a loaf of bread, while Great Xia has already mastered interstellar-level military power. The world has changed."

The leaders of those small countries who were hiding in underground bunkers were discussing how to ask the United States for help, but after seeing the video, they tore up the letter they had drafted to shreds and immediately sent their secretaries to contact the Great Xia Embassy.

The highest-level closed-door conference room on the third basement floor of the Europa League headquarters.

The cool-toned ceiling lights shone on the oval table. A dozen or so representatives from member states stared at the huge projection screen on the wall; you could hear a pin drop.

The air conditioner vents were blowing out cold air, but they couldn't dry the sweat on the politicians' foreheads.

The screen was playing a loop of footage of the Titan armor shattering a shield with a single punch.

The representative from Gaul loosened the silk tie around his neck, picked up the water glass in front of him, and took a big gulp, completely unaware that the water had spilled onto his expensive handmade suit.

"Gentlemen," the Gallic representative said, his voice hoarse as he stood up, his hands gripping the table, "the US's main asset has been completely crippled by those monsters. And Great Xia... the weapons they hold are decades ahead of those monsters."

He looked around the conference room.

"We're still basking in the glory of a few chip patents, while they've already built mechs capable of going toe-to-toe with those monsters. What are we waiting for? Are we waiting for those monsters to wipe out Europe after they've finished off America?"

The representative of the British Empire slammed his pen on the table with a sharp crack: "If we bow down to Great Xia now, how will we explain it to the United States? The Black Palace just issued a joint defense memorandum."

"Explain?" The Gallic representative sneered, pointing to a set of data at the edge of the screen. "Go look at the current state of the Pacific Fleet. Trump can't even protect his own aircraft carriers; you expect him to defend London?"

The German representative cleared his throat: "What do you mean?"

"Immediately lift all technological sanctions against Great Xia!" The Gaul representative raised his voice, slamming his fist heavily on the table.

"Lithography machines, high-end chips, special alloy materials—just give us the list from DaXia, and we'll provide it all! Not only will we provide it, but we'll also ship it over free!"

A commotion broke out in the conference room.

"This is the wealth we've accumulated over decades," a representative from a small Nordic country muttered quietly.

"Are we going to leave our entire fortune to be buried with those monsters?" The Gallic representative pointed at the dark gold Titan mech on the screen. "And if that mech appears over Paris, what will we use to stop it? All that junk you have left to smash it with?"

No one spoke again.

During the voting process, all green lights were on. The vote was unanimous, and no one raised any objections.

Ten minutes later.

At the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Great Xia, the encrypted dedicated line in the Minister's office rang.

The minister answered the phone, and the familiar, even somewhat obsequious, voice of the EU chief representative came through the receiver.

"Dear DaXia friends, good evening! I hope I haven't disturbed your rest."

The EU representative spoke in a low voice, like a salesman trying to sell a slow-moving product.

"Our Europa Union has just held a special meeting. After deep reflection, we unanimously agree that the sanctions imposed on Great Britain over the past few years were a regrettable misunderstanding."

The minister leaned back in his leather chair, fiddling with a pen, and didn't reply.

Seeing no response, the person on the other end of the phone quickly sped up their speech: "To express our sincerity, the EU has decided to unconditionally lift all export restrictions on summer starting today."

The first batch of five state-of-the-art extreme ultraviolet lithography machines, along with a complete set of blueprints, will be installed and take off tomorrow morning, as a free gift to your country.

The minister switched hands and held the phone: "Oh? This is something you don't sell. Giving such a big gift, what do you want?"

"No reward expected! Absolutely no reward expected!" The EU representative wiped the sweat from his brow.

"We only ask... we only ask that in the event of a potential global crisis in the future, Great Xia can provide us with some protection within its capabilities."

Of course, if your country needs any supplies or materials, the Europa Union is willing to provide everything it has and cooperate fully.

The minister put down his pen and leaned back on the table: "As for the asylum issue, it depends on your performance."

After hanging up the phone, the minister pressed the call button on his desk. His assistant pushed open the door and came in.

The minister handed over a pre-prepared top-secret list: "Send this to the EU. Tell them that the rare metals and precision machine tools listed here must be delivered to Shanghai's port within three days. If any item is missing, the asylum agreement is null and void."

The assistant glanced at the terrifying number on the list, swallowed hard, and quickly ran out to carry it out.

The minister walked to the window and looked at the bustling streets outside. The once arrogant Western powers had finally bowed their heads under the crushing force of absolute military might.

This also cleared the last political obstacle for Li Yichen to subsequently extract unlimited global resources.

Across the ocean, in the territorial waters off the west coast of the United States.

Dark clouds loomed overhead, and a fierce wind whipped up giant waves tens of meters high, which slammed heavily onto the aircraft carrier's deck.

The four remaining nuclear-powered aircraft carriers of the Pacific Fleet formed a battle group, with their air defense radars operating at full power. Air raid sirens pierced the stormy night sky.

On the radar screen, hundreds of red dots, moving at a terrifying speed of Mach 20, brutally tore through the thick rain curtain and stormed over the fleet.

A thousand upgraded yellow giants hovered below the dark clouds aboard a shuttle airship.

The armor on the bottom of the airship slid open, and the dark blue high-energy main cannon began to charge. The huge energy fluctuations evaporated the rainwater below, creating a large vacuum zone.

On the aircraft carrier's bridge, Fleet Commander MacArthur, through binoculars, watched the airships hovering in the sky, defying gravity. The radars of anti-aircraft missiles were utterly unable to lock onto targets traveling at Mach 20.

"Full AF! Fire all the anti-aircraft missiles! Don't let them recharge!" MacArthur roared into the communicator.

Flames spewed as thousands of missiles streaked into the sky. However, the airships didn't even try to dodge; their outer high-frequency energy shields glowed faintly, absorbing all the explosive force of the missiles.

Humanity's conventional weapons, which it takes pride in, didn't even make a splash in front of interstellar-level shields.

Washington, D.C., the Black House underground command center.

The red light from the emergency lights flickered on the wall, making Te Kaopu's pale face look like a ghost.

His eyes were fixed on the main screen. On the screen, the bridges of four nuclear-powered aircraft carriers simultaneously lit up with blinding red lights, indicating they were being targeted by high-energy weapons.

That was the last shred of the American navy, the foundation for their century-long global domination.

Te Kao Pu's hands were shaking like leaves. He picked up the coffee cup on the table, wanting to take a sip to calm his nerves.

My wrist went limp, and the porcelain cup slipped from my hand and fell to the ground.

With a sharp "crack," coffee spilled all over the floor, and the cup shattered into pieces.

The reliable guy lunged at the control panel, grabbed the red microphone that connected directly to fleet headquarters, veins bulging on his neck, and roared hoarsely, "Fire! Drive these monsters to the bottom of the sea!"