Inside the apartnt, the aroma of food and the richness of wine painted a cozy picture full of affection and warmth.
Outside the apartnt, every nation with satellites launched into space captured the mont the Space-based Weapons were destroyed.
No matter the ti or place, the highest authorities of every nation received the urgent news.
The Kremlin, Buckingham Palace, The White House, and others all convened ergency etings.
The capitalists who knew the details also began to get busy.
At this mont, the life or death of Ponte on the ground had beco unimportant; no one cared, including the mbers of the Morgan Family. In everyone’s eyes, he was already a dead man.
"Haha."
Ponte looked up, watching the clouds gather and slowly devour the stars. All his madness and pride seed to be ripped from his body by an invisible hand, leaving nothing but a hollow, soulless shell.
He was having a ntal breakdown.
Superpower was sothing beyond comprehension. However, people like Ponte always liked to fit what they didn’t understand into their own frawork of understanding, then convince themselves that they understood Superpowers. But the scene unfolding before him mocked his ignorance.
"Ditch, how could we possibly win against soone like this?" Ponte murmured, already feeling sothing encompassing his body. This sensation swiftly pulled him back from his collapsing ntal state, and he yelled, "No, no, don’t! I don’t want to die!"
The Defense Barrier expanded inward, instantly crushing him to a pulp, his remains scattering like petals thrown by celestial maidens across the ground.
「Shinjuku, Okubo Police Departnt.」
The lights in the file room were on. Wearing reading glasses, Ditch sat on a short, square stool with a tea table in front of him littered with various files. Next to him sat a pot of tea, used to invigorate the mind. In his youth, he liked to drink coffee for a boost of energy, but now that he was older, it was no longer appropriate to continue drinking overly sweet coffee; instead, he switched to tea. Initially reluctant, he developed a liking for it after just one sip, especially for Dragon Well tea.
Ditch scanned the docunts with his smartphone, and the text quickly appeared in the God Detective app. He picked up his tea, took a sip, and savored the sweetness that blossod amidst the bitterness. The light fragrance of the tea rushed into his nostrils, even more pleasant than a woman’s perfu. He set down the teacup and began to check the words on the docunts again, ensuring there were no typos or omissions that might affect the accuracy of God Detective. This was his proudest accomplishnt, the most advanced artificial intelligence in the world today.
BANG!
A loud sound suddenly echoed through the file room—obviously not from soone opening the door normally.
Ditch pushed up his glasses. Without asking who it was, he quickly got up and moved to the side. He wanted to use the bookshelves to conceal his form, calculating the route between the door and his position, and how he could circle around to avoid the person entering. Ditch remained calm. His steps were light, mimicking a cat’s to avoid making any noise, which was essential for his safety.
His hands didn’t stop moving either. He exited the God Detective app, intending to call the specialist team to stop monitoring the Yakuza and co for backup quickly. Anyone who could sneak into the police departnt was no ordinary criminal.
Before Ditch could send his ssage, his phone suddenly exploded. All its components blasted apart, but the explosion didn’t harm his palm because, before the explosion, an invisible force had forcefully pried open his hand.
"Dio?!"
Ditch realized what was happening. He hadn’t expected Dio to co after him, but this also confird his suspicions.
"You’re not an Angel Envoy. You’re just a human, aren’t you? Are you killing because you’re afraid of God Detective?" Ditch shouted.
An invisible substance covered his body, allowing him to feel the oppressive sensation clearly. There was not a trace of fear on his aged face. Instead, he smiled, "You can’t hide for long. Don’t underestimate the elites of the Empire."
BANG.
Outside the file room, soone quickly approached and said, "Dr. Ditch, what happened? That was a loud noise."
The speaker casually walked past several bookshelves and saw the blood and flesh on the floor.
"AH!"
A scream went up as the police officer in charge of the files turned and ran, shouting loudly, "There’s been a murder!"
For a police officer only responsible for managing files, such a scene was obviously too gory, exceeding his tolerance level.
The incident at the police station was considered a minor episode during the night. In this darkness, the higher-ups wouldn’t pay too much attention to such "trivial matters."
Kumazo Yasuda sat in his ho office, watching the video sent from the CIA. After watching the entire clip, he spoke with a complex expression, "Is this also one of Dio’s abilities?"
"According to this afternoon’s report, the latest Superpower demonstrated by Dio includes manifesting a multicolored, diamond-shaped Light Shield when attacked," the Minister of State stood by, explaining to the Pri Minister. With his status, he could only stand there, providing such explanations to the people present.
The heads of the five major financial groups and the ruler of the Phoenix Academy family were gathered in this office.
No one spoke. They were all thinking. Facing such a terrifying existence, what could humanity possibly do? The answer was obvious.
Iwasaki Yizo expelled the worries from his chest with a heavy sigh, a long breath breaking the eerie silence.
"Now, it’s ti for us to change," he murmured, his eyes shifting from hesitation to determination. More clearly than ever before, he saw the waves of the era surging towards the world.
"That’s right, seeking peaceful exchange would be better," Kochou suggested.
"Kochou, it’s not that we don’t want peace! The key issue is that Dio won’t give us peace!" one of the magnates retorted.
"Sumitomo is right," another declared. "No one knows what Dio will do to this world after ascending to Paradise. He might erase us from existence."
"Even if he is kind-hearted and spares our lives, what’s the point if we lose power, status, and wealth?" a fourth voice lanted.
The voices of opposition quickly rose. Their current situation put them at odds with Dio. Given his behavior, he obviously looked down on capitalists like them. The promises they had previously made to him had gone unanswered—that was proof enough.
Iwasaki Yizo spoke up, "The change I’m talking about is not about submitting to Dio. Rather, beyond Superpowers, we need to increase our research into technology and weapons.
"Cast aside the current rigid class structure, kick out all those incompetent fools, and look for capable individuals. No matter their background or status, as long as they have talent, give them money and let them research."
"Is this about entering a warti state?" Kochou asked, laying bare the intent behind Iwasaki Yizo’s words.
Human technology advances fastest during war. Only when facing an existential threat do those in power disregard everything else and focus solely on finding ways to win.
"Exactly. This is war," Iwasaki Yizo declared, his tone harder than steel, his sharp gaze sweeping over those present, aiming to quell all dissent. "There is no channel for peaceful communication with Dio anymore. It’s either destruction or survival!"
After pondering for a mont, Kumazo Yasuda spoke up, "Indeed, we don’t share the sa path as Dio. But for technological advancents in the military arena, we need the United States’ approval."
"I believe, at this ti, the United States will not refuse to lift restrictions, on the condition that our data must be shared with them at all tis and be under the supervision of the U.S. Army," Kochou responded to Kumazo Yasuda. She was well aware that when pushed into a corner, those in power could indeed relinquish so rights, but there were certain rights they would never give up, even in dire straits. The United States would never allow Japan to develop military weapons they couldn’t control; any such research had to be under Arican leadership.
"It doesn’t matter," Iwasaki Yizo said, answering in place of the Pri Minister.
Kumazo Yasuda, who might display seniority before outsiders, could only act as a junior before Iwasaki Yizo. He nodded. "If the restrictions can be lifted, that’s already the best outco. As for the data, of course, it must be shared. We only want the right to use the results of our research."
"In that case, I will go and persuade The White House," Kochou volunteered. Among the families present, Phoenix Academy had the best relationship with the United States, making Kochou the most suitable person for this task.
"Then it’s decided," Iwasaki Yizo nodded, then added after a mont’s thought, "First, inject 300 billion US dollars as startup capital. The plan will be nad Takamagahara. The governnt will cover ninety percent, and the remaining ten percent will co from each family contributing a little. We must fully recruit top talent from both dostic and international fields to participate in the military weapons and Superpower projects."
"Agreed." Everyone present nodded their assent.
Kumazo Yasuda also nodded. The governnt’s money wasn’t his own; he was rely in charge of its allocation. The ’sincerity money’ from the financial groups, however, that felt like his.
Seeing them all nod, Kochou had no choice but to agree as well.
"Discuss the specifics among yourselves," Kumazo Yasuda said as he stood up. "I need to convene a eting of The cabinet to discuss who should be the next Police Director. We must also try to minimize any disruption from the news of Ponte’s death, occurring only days after he took office." He once again swept his gaze across the six people present, asking, "Do you have any recomnded candidates?"
"This is an internal governnt matter. We shouldn’t interfere. It’s better if you decide," Iwasaki Yizo shook his head, uninterested in recomnding a Police Director.
He didn’t want to waste energy on such trifles. His priority was to ensure that the 300 billion US dollars were fully allocated to the Takamagahara plan, with no instances of corruption. At this ti, more than profits, he craved technology capable of self-protection against Superpower Users as soon as possible, or even to awaken such abilities within himself.
Iwasaki Yizo believed there were many who shared his thoughts. He didn’t consider himself the smartest person in the world; there were always those more intelligent and visionary. Japan surely wouldn’t be the first country to discard old conventions. War would test a nation’s true worth. Weak nations would be destroyed without recourse. Countries unwilling to be destroyed had no choice but to strive for self-improvent with all their might.
After tonight, Iwasaki Yizo foresaw the dawn of an arms race surpassing the Cold War in scale. ssiah, the Seven Years of Apocalypse—if the prophecies were real, which country would erge as the sole Earthly Divine State? Iwasaki Yizo didn’t particularly care which one, but he was determined to secure a position of significant influence for himself within that singular, future nation.
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