National Fate: Eight Yin Generals Guard China from Their Sleeping Coffins

The yellow paper between Ji Yuan's fingers spontaneously combusted without wind.

A deep purple flame shot out, devoid of heat, yet carrying an unassailable majesty.

The purple light rapidly spread outwards, and the black mist that came into contact with the light emitted a muffled hiss and quickly rolled backwards.

The purple light illuminated the sandy area fifty meters in front of the city gate.

Thousands of shadow assassins crawling close to the ground suddenly appeared ahead, where there had been nothing before.

They have no shadows, and their bodies are completely exposed to the purple light, causing them to move slowly and become sluggish.

Guan Shan drew his sword.

The Blood-Patterned Iron Blade unleashed a crescent-shaped blade aura, cleaving the ground and severing a series of Shadow Assassin Beasts in half.

Green blood sprayed onto the yellow sand, wisps of white smoke rising from it.

Old Luo performed a series of ritualistic steps, causing the bronze compass to spin and ground spikes to erupt in patches, forcing the ghostly assassins who had hidden in the void and attempted to leap out of their original forms, impaling them on stone pillars.

The Chinese front is as stable as Mount Tai.

On the global sky, the China-exclusive split screen lit up with a dazzling purple light.

In stark contrast are the other thirty-eight dark, split-screen death scenes.

Black House Conference Room, Bald Eagle Country.

The oval mahogany table was filled with military and political dignitaries.

The air pressure inside was extremely low, and no one was speaking.

Everyone's eyes were fixed on the main screen directly in front of them.

On the screen, the last ball of fire that David had condensed was extinguished by darkness.

The sound of bone spurs piercing the chest cavity was transmitted back via satellite network, echoing clearly throughout the conference room.

The system's cold, mechanical sound echoed through the sky.

[All of the Bald Eagle's players have been eliminated; the city gates have fallen.]

[Punishment mechanism triggered. Eighty thousand Shadow Assassins will materialize and descend upon the homeland in eight times their original number.]

Six hundred and forty thousand assassin beasts that can become invisible and teleport.

The president placed his hands on the table, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.

Large beads of cold sweat slid down his forehead and landed on his tie.

He stared intently at the screen, which had turned into static, and heavy breathing came from his throat.

General Smith pushed back his chair and stood up.

His voice was hoarse, laced with barely concealed fear: "Sir, our city's defenses have failed. The Pentagon just completed testing; these descending monsters don't emit infrared heat radiation. The military's thermal imagers and radar equipment can't detect them."

An unseen enemy.

The president closed his eyes.

A deep sense of regret welled up in his heart.

At an international summit three months ago, he personally ordered the severing of China's high-end chip supply chain and the deployment of an aircraft carrier battle group on the high seas as a show of force.

He mocked the conservatism and backwardness of the great Eastern power, believing that the genetic modification project of the bald eagle is the ultimate direction of human evolution.

Now, the genetically modified elite soldier is slaughtered like a pig or a dog before he can even see what the enemy looks like.

If the bald eagle had not adopted a hostile attitude three months ago.

If only the bald eagle could now possess a small part of China's spiritual energy barrier.

The president opened his eyes, slumped into the large leather swivel chair, and looked more than ten years older.

The secondary screen in the conference room lit up.

Surveillance footage from the streets of New York was transmitted back.

A white woman walking her dog is on the sidewalk.

Under the streetlight, her shadow suddenly split in two.

A black bone spur pierced her jaw from bottom to top.

The woman's eyes bulged out as she lay stiffly in a pool of blood.

The pet dog barked wildly, trying to escape, but was torn to pieces by sharp claws that emerged from the air.

There were no attackers.

The entire street was filled with nothing but fallen human bodies.

Smith gritted his teeth and dialed the air defense command: "Activate indiscriminate fire coverage."

He couldn't even provide the exact coordinates, so he could only let the shells flatten his city.

.........

The official residence of the Prime Minister of Japan, underground air raid shelter.

This place is 100 meters above the ground, and is surrounded by thick lead plates and reinforced concrete.

The prime minister sat in front of the monitor, the cigarette between his two fingers burning to the end, scalding his skin, but he didn't notice.

The surveillance footage is frozen on the moment Tanaka breathed his last.

The chief of staff stood to one side, holding a thick data report in his hand.

His hands trembled uncontrollably, making a rustling sound as the pages swished.

"Your Excellency Prime Minister, Tokyo is facing an attack by 64,000 Shadow Assassins. The Self-Defense Forces bases have lost contact."

The chief of staff swallowed hard. "Our attack helicopters were towed down just ten seconds after takeoff. We couldn't lock onto the target at all."

The prime minister threw away his cigarette butt, held his head in his hands, and pulled hard on his hair.

Two weeks ago, in this very basement, he and his cabinet ministers raised sake cups and secretly plotted how to take advantage of the post-war vacuum in the nation's fortunes to seize China's Diaoyu Islands and even attempt to encroach on China's coastal resources.

They adhere to the Bushido spirit and firmly believe that the Yamato people will rise again with the supernatural abilities bestowed upon them by the system.

Today, that ambition has become a blatant joke.

"Do as we discussed last time, activate Project Amaterasu at the location where the monsters descended!"

"But......"

"No buts! If they don't die, we'll be the ones who die!"

The Prime Minister turned his back so that the other man could not see his expression.

The aide nodded and went out.

Project Amaterasu.

It involves indiscriminately bombarding the areas where monsters have descended using missiles.

Hearing the gasps of shock outside, the Prime Minister sighed, "Amaterasu will forgive me."

...........

Prime Minister's Office of White Elephant Country.

As the Prime Minister watched the live broadcast of A-Jie being impaled by hundreds of bone spurs, he kicked over the coffee table in front of him.

Broken glass was scattered all over the ground.

"Is this what you meant by 'absolutely foolproof'?"

The Premier roared at the Minister of National Defense, "You said that by following the bald eagle in sanctioning China, you could obtain core technologies! And now? The bald eagle can't even protect itself, who will save us!"

The defense minister kept his head down and remained silent.

The streets of New Delhi have been paralyzed, with military and police driving armored vehicles recklessly, and more people dying under the wheels of their own people than at the hands of monsters.

The Prime Minister collapsed to the ground, covered his face with his hands, and burst into tears.

He knew that the White Elephant Kingdom was finished.

On the global internet, bullet comments scroll at a rate of tens of thousands per second.

[God! My neighbor next door was just killed in his living room! I can't see the monster! Help!]

Why aren't the troops firing? What are they doing?

[Firing is useless, the bullets don't even hit the shadows! Fuck! We're doomed!]

Why does China shine? Why can their paper glow?

This is unfair! The system is biased towards China!

[Bullshit! Our Master Ji's magic is called talismans! Whose fault is it that you lack the foundation?]

[I'm in Shanghai, just finished watching Boss Guan's swordsmanship video while drinking a Coke. It's very quiet outside, I can even hear the cicadas chirping. Thanks to the Eight Generals! Thanks to our ancestors!]

[The person upstairs should be careful; everyone on the international internet is watching our live stream right now. What you're doing could easily break their defenses.]

[So what if their defenses are breached? These foreigners didn't hold back when they were clamoring to carve up China!]

【............】

Inside a high-end riverside apartment in a first-tier city in China.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights of China are bright, and vehicles are moving in an orderly manner on the streets.

A pale blue spiritual energy barrier covered the night sky, giving everyone a sense of absolute security.

However, the apartment was eerily silent.

Kim So-yeon, a Korean-American girl group member, curled up on a large leather sofa.

She was wrapped in a blanket, but her body was trembling uncontrollably.

Two cell phones were on the coffee table, their screens displaying casualty reports from the United States and South Korea, respectively.

She is a top-tier celebrity with tens of millions of fans in China and has earned a huge fortune.

In order to avoid taxes and obtain privileges, she obtained a passport from the United States early on.

She was usually very proud of this.

But now, this passport has become a death warrant.

Her agent is also of Bald Eagle nationality.

The middle-aged man stood by the window, looking at the magnificent night view outside, his eyes filled with insane jealousy and fear.

In the upper right corner of the system interface, the number of people in the Bald Eagle Country's reserve gacha pool is jumping wildly.

David's group has been wiped out, and a new list of nine is about to be drawn up.

"Soyeon, there are still eight million people left in the pool."

The agent turned around, his voice trembling, "We're in China; monsters can't get in. But if the system selects us, we'll be directly teleported into the national destiny space!"

Kim So-yeon picked up her phone.

She had to do something.

She logged into Huaxia's social media account and typed rapidly.

"Please, fans of China, save me! I don't want to go back to the UAE! I love China, I'm willing to donate all my money, please, officials, give me a Chinese household registration, even just a spot in the safe zone! I'm so scared!"

Click send.

The next room.

Ichiro Watanabe, a famous Japanese director holding a Japanese passport, kneels on the floor.

In front of me is a small wooden Buddhist shrine.

He lit three incense sticks and kowtowed forcefully on the ground.

His forehead was scraped and blood was flowing down his nose.

Tokyo is finished; he can't go back.

If the Japanese city falls, according to the system rules, all nationalities will die simultaneously.

Even if he hid in an air-raid shelter in China, he would die instantly.

Ichiro Watanabe gritted his teeth, took out his tablet computer, and posted on the Huaxia Forum.

"My name is Watanabe Ichiro, and I possess numerous international film and television resources. I sincerely wish to apply for Chinese citizenship and contribute to the development of Chinese culture and entertainment. I humbly request the relevant departments to grant me this opportunity!"

A few minutes later, a massive number of comments from Chinese netizens flooded the posts of the two individuals.

Kim So-yeon stared at her phone screen, her face turning deathly pale.

Are you kidding me? We make money off us to pay taxes to the bald eagles, and now that we're dying, you suddenly remember you love China?

Everyone is equal before the system. Your bald eagle passport is so valuable, why don't you ask your president to save you?

Stop playing the victim. The government has already issued a notice that it will not accept any household registration applications from foreign nationals.

Get out! The spiritual energy of China doesn't nurture ungrateful wretches!

[By the way, just now, Japan's candidate Ike pulled away that old scoundrel Watanabe; I reckon you'll be next.]

[He reaped what he sowed.]