Blackstone Code

Some say the Emperor of Gephra is the spiritual symbol of Gephra. In truth, the President of the Federation is also a symbol of freedom—Look, we ordinary people voted him in!

So, in simulations, if Eminence is attacked, the first priority is to secure the President. He is taken to a safe room while the level of the attack is assessed, after which a decision is made—resist or evacuate.

At the time, the President had just received a takeaway coffee from an intern—extra milk and sugar. It tasted great, not bitter at all.

He raised the cup, thinking a good morning coffee would energize him for the day. Just as he was planning his schedule, the door burst open.

Before he could react, two agents shoved his head down, ruining the hairstyle he’d spent over ten minutes fixing, and dragged him into the safe room.

Coffee spilled on his shirt—damn it, that was the one his wife had specially ironed for him this morning!

Naturally, afterward, he wanted to know what had triggered such a massive defense response in Eminence. That’s why he decided to come himself.

Roughly thirty minutes after the call, mounted police led the way, followed by military and Security Council Intelligence vehicles. In the center was an armored luxury sedan—with the President inside.

Outside the research facility, the chief engineer stood next to Lynch. He had expected this to be a simple presentation.

He hadn’t imagined so many people would show up!

He quietly shifted behind Lynch. It was too late to go back for hair wax, so he spat into his palm and slicked his hair down.

After a brief hesitation, the two researchers next to him did the same.

Lynch took a step forward, putting a little distance between himself and the others—not out of disdain, of course, but to better greet the President.

The first to enter were Security Council agents, conducting an initial sweep. Then came the military.

Unlike the Security Council, the military wasn’t… so dumb. They went straight to Austin, asked a few casual questions, and quickly confirmed the site was secure.

Lynch knew Austin was a military plant assigned to watch him—but he didn’t care.

At this stage, when he didn’t yet have the power to oppose the federal government or military, such surveillance wasn’t an infringement—it was protection.

He wasn’t one of those purebred idealists obsessed with the supremacy of freedom. All that mattered to him was achieving his goals—how he got there was irrelevant.

Once the area was secured, the President stepped out of the car.

Lynch and the researchers walked up to greet him.

“We meet again!” the President said. He didn’t really want to talk to Lynch and could only make small talk.

Lynch responded warmly, “Your tie looks great, Mr. President. The person who picked it clearly has taste.”

A subtle compliment. The President’s eyebrows lifted slightly; he shot a discreet glance at Truman, who didn’t notice.

He smiled slightly. “My wife picked it out for my sixtieth birthday. You think it looks good?”

“It suits you perfectly, Mr. President!”

The President chuckled and shook Lynch’s hand. Lynch then introduced the others.

Besides the President, there were experts from the Ministry of Defense—they were the real focus of this surprise visit.

After a round of introductions, everyone entered the facility. Lynch led the way, explaining the equipment.

While he spoke, the President frowned and sniffed his palm. There was a strange, faint odor.

Silently, he rubbed a handkerchief in his palm. Meanwhile, the Defense Ministry experts were more direct.

Their questions came nonstop—and were rather odd:

“This smell… could it be a new chemical compound?”—asked a chemist.

“It’s sticky but dries fast. Probably high in volatile water content!”—a physicist.

After the tour, they all arrived at the runway.

No matter how good your pitch, nothing beats seeing the airplane fly and land smoothly.

“Watch those Defense Ministry experts like they’re thieves,” Lynch whispered to the chief engineer.

The engineer hesitated. To him, Defense Ministry scientists were the best minds in the Federation. Besides, what was the harm in letting them take a look?

Lynch gave him a hard look. “Don’t make me say it twice…”

The engineer could only drag two civilian scientists over to engage the Defense experts in detailed technical discussion.

Meanwhile, the airplane had been prepped. The pilot—actually a researcher and former civilian scientist—was ready.

Civilian scientists had played an irreplaceable role in airplane development. Take this test flight: not a single institutional researcher dared fly. Civilians volunteered without hesitation—some even fought for the chance.

Every scientific breakthrough comes at a cost. Thanks to their sacrifices, capitalists made more money.

Another civilian scientist started the engine with a joystick, then quickly stepped aside. The airplane took off smoothly under everyone’s gaze.

All eyes followed it. Since the dawn of civilization, conquering the skies has been embedded in human nature.

Though most on the ground couldn’t fly, it didn’t stop them from dreaming of soaring freely.

“You call this thing an airplane?” the President asked, slightly disappointed. He had hoped to name it himself, but Lynch had already done so.

Proper etiquette would have been for Lynch to ask if the President had a better name in mind.

Then the President would offer a name, everyone would applaud, and the airplane would be officially christened.

From now on, whenever people talk about these airplane, they will think of him—Lynch would become an unskippable chapter in the history of the industry.

Unfortunately, Lynch didn’t stick to the expected script. “Yes, Mr. President. It’s called an airplane.”

The President chuckled, “Don’t you think that sounds a bit awkward?”

“Not at all.”

He could concede on other matters, but not the airplane.

He had to leave his mark on this industry. It wasn’t just about selling planes—it was about influence.

Whether military or civilian, every time someone boarded a plane, they would think of Lynch. That would strengthen his image and expand his reach.

That influence could even extend into the military. For example, if Lynch later proposed the formation of an air force, it would be doubly certified.

The President didn’t press the issue and instead turned his gaze to the airplane in the sky. A senior officer from the Ministry of Defense stepped over. “I heard your design allows the airplane to carry out attacks?”

Lynch nodded without hesitation. “Of course. It can carry four howitzer shells, with a dedicated release system. A single pilot can handle the drops.”

“If it doesn’t carry those shells, it can instead carry a lightweight adult, a machine gun, and a stockpile of ammunition.”

A major general approached and asked, “At this altitude and speed, wouldn’t using a machine gun have little effect on ground targets?”

Lynch shook his head. “Of course not. The machine gun isn’t meant for ground targets—it’s for enemies in the air.”

Everyone nearby, whether they were speaking or silent, turned to look at him.

Lynch didn’t back down or tone it down. He went on, “Future warfare will be multidimensional—land, sea, and air.”

“This is the inevitable direction of modern warfare. Take now, for example. This airplane can fly a hundred miles behind enemy lines, drop four howitzer shells on critical infrastructure, then return to reload.”

“In the future, the enemy will also have airplane, and similar tactics. By then, we won’t just need to bomb enemy targets—we’ll have to defend our own skies too.”

“Some airplane will attack, others will defend. In aerial combat, machine guns will be just right.”

Everyone listened intently. Some who didn’t know Lynch well even asked others which military academy he graduated from—his strategic vision was decades ahead of its time.

The President’s expression grew serious. Though he didn’t like war, everyone knew it was inevitable.

If… a swarm of enemy planes ever flew over Eminence and dropped shell after shell, just thinking about it filled him with dread.

By then, even hiding in a safe room might not be enough to survive.

The major general was already discussing Lynch’s perspective with his peers—not as a far-future scenario, but near-future. Possibly even tomorrow.

Look—up in the sky, the airplane was already soaring. If war broke out, it would undoubtedly shine.