Great Xia Academy of Sciences.
Inside the president's office.
"The news should have reached Eagle Sauce by now, right?"
Zheng Lixing took a drag from his dry tobacco pipe and said cheerfully, "I wonder how they'll react? Did they ever imagine that we could build a Fifth Generation Fighter too?"
The J-20 project had been kept under wraps for two or three whole years. Now, they finally had a chance to help Great Xia's air force reclaim some pride.
Although there was still some time before its maiden flight, it surely would not be too far away.
"Cough, cough. Old Man Zheng, how many times have I told you not to smoke in my office?" Zhang Yuli coughed twice and waved away the smoke filling the room. "And if you insist on smoking, at least smoke something better."
Every time, he smoked that cheap tobacco. Even if he did not care about his own health, he should at least consider how others felt breathing it in.
"It's just a habit. I'm not used to good tobacco either." Zheng Lixing quickly snuffed out his pipe.
"Back to the point, Eagle Sauce is probably having a headache over this too."
Zhang Yuli took a sip of tea, his brows full of amusement. "Now we just wait for their reaction. There'll be quite a show to watch."
Great Xia's disclosure of the J-20 fighter jet development program at this moment was far more than a simple display of military strength.
He did not believe Eagle Sauce's intelligence analysts had failed to notice that Great Xia had been developing a Fifth Generation Fighter over the past few years.
Even those wall-climbers outside Institute 611 had heard rumors about it. If the CIA had not received even a scrap of information, everyone there should have been fired long ago.
The reason they had said nothing was entirely because they had pretended not to see it. They did not even believe Great Xia could develop it so quickly.
The most critical issue was whether the F-22 fighter jet production line should be shut down. This was also the fiercest point of conflict between Eagle Sauce's military-industrial complex, Congress, and Defense Department.
While they were fighting each other tooth and nail, Great Xia announced the successful taxi tests of the J-20. It was easy to imagine the chaos this would stir up within Eagle Sauce.
"That's good too. The messier Eagle Sauce gets, the more beneficial it is for us. We have to thank that Mysterious Organization for this." Zheng Lixing sighed.
This was not only so that the Mysterious Organization could better fish in troubled waters, but also so Great Xia could better develop its economy and accumulate strength.
It could be said that without this Mysterious Organization, they would likely have needed to keep enduring for many more years before building up enough momentum to surge forward.
But times had changed. In the coming major developments in the Middle East, he wanted to see whether Eagle Sauce dared to step in.
They had been the world's boss for too long. It was time for a new master.
Just then.
"Academician Zheng Lixing, President Zhang Yuli, greetings."
"Notice: You are requested to attend an emergency meeting at seven tonight."
At the same time, just as the two had expected, this news was spreading far and wide.
Okinawa, Japan, Kadena Air Base.
This was Eagle Sauce's largest air base in the entire Asia-Pacific region. More than thirty thousand soldiers were stationed here, along with over a hundred fighter jets, bombers, and several air wings.
At the same time, it was also the military base closest to Great Xia. Like a thorn in the throat, it was regarded by Great Xia as a thorn in its flesh and an eyesore. How could one allow others to snore beside one's bed?
At this moment.
The newly appointed commander, Brigadier General Prey Jamiel, reclined in his office chair, leisurely smoking a cigar.
Although he was not Japan's top commander and was nowhere near that five-star emperor MacArthur, who was always judging others, he held absolute authority throughout Okinawa.
Back in Eagle Sauce, he was merely an ordinary senior officer. Compared with political and business families and Wall Street's Jews, nobody even gave him a second glance.
But here, Prey Jamiel was the supreme emperor.
Just as he narrowed his eyes and enjoyed this rare moment of comfort.
A messenger hurried in, his face full of panic. "Brigadier General Jamiel, something major has happened."
"What is it? Did those troublemakers on the base assault some local Japanese women again?"
Prey Jamiel frowned. "Or did someone get drunk and kill a few Japanese again? Throw him into solitary confinement for a few days first."
This had already happened eight times in the month since he took up the post. It was practically routine by now.
Just as he assumed it was another trivial matter.
"No, sir. It's news from Great Xia."
"Go on." His expression darkened.
"According to the latest intelligence from Great Xia, their newest fighter jet has already begun taxi testing and may have even completed high-speed testing. There is also a strong possibility that it is a Fifth Generation Fighter." The messenger quickly summarized the intelligence.
"A Fifth Generation Fighter? Great Xia has developed a Fifth Generation Fighter?"
Prey Jamiel's face was full of disbelief.
He had only one feeling: Great Xia had gone mad!
Did they really think they could build a Fifth Generation Fighter? With a technical level where developing a fourth-generation fighter like the J-10 had taken fourteen years? Or with their comprehensive backwardness in materials, engines, avionics, and every other field?
Prey Jamiel only wanted to ask one question: what gave Great Xia the right?
The messenger pondered for a moment. "Sir, do you think this is a smokescreen they deliberately put up? Is the goal to interfere with the shutdown of our F-22 production line?"
Prey Jamiel shook his head. "Whether it is or not, that is not for us to decide. Just submit the intelligence to Washington."
"The rest is beyond the scope of what you and I need to consider."
Whether Great Xia's Fifth Generation Fighter was real, or whether it was meant to influence the closure of the F-22 fighter jet production line, was that something he had any right to discuss?
Did people really think the proposal to shut down the F-22 production line was simply because the F-22 cost too much to build? No, it was because it was not profitable enough!
How many military-industrial complexes were pushing that proposal for profit? How many relatives of the powerful had gotten involved? Both sides were beating each other bloody, trying to grab a larger share of the pie.
He was only an ordinary brigadier general. Once his term was over, he would happily run off to some major corporation and take a cushy executive position until retirement.
If he dared get involved in this kind of issue, did he have a death wish? This was the kind of dangerous thinking one could not even touch!
Prey Jamiel did not want his wife to hear news that he had accidentally drowned in a toilet.
Let Congress worry about those problems.
Time passed in the blink of an eye. The next day.
Eagle Sauce's Bay Area, LLNL Laboratory.
It was Thursday, and there were still three days until the next copy count refresh.
Lu Ze and Lucy unusually clocked in only one minute late, drawing looks from everyone in the laboratory.
Before ten o'clock, the two tacitly picked up some snacks and drinks and began having morning tea at a table.
Of course, Lu Ze was mainly watching Lucy stuff herself while casually chatting with her.
After all, he had already eaten so much breakfast. How could he possibly eat any more? He did not have that kind of special talent.
"By the way, Lu Ze, I heard there's good news about Great Xia's Fifth Generation Fighter development?" Lucy elegantly swallowed a toast cake.
"Seems like it. Why are you interested in that stuff?" Lu Ze looked baffled.
Despite looking like a mature beauty with voluminous waves of hair, Lucy was actually a kid with a heart full of girlish fantasies.
She loved sweets, loved anime, and had even recently kept pestering him to teach her some "Great Xia traditional martial arts," something called "internal force!"
I only know a set of Eighteen Clothes-Brushing Touches. Lu Ze could not help complaining inwardly.
And now she actually cared about the latest developments in Great Xia's scientific research and weapons?
Something was wrong with this picture. This was not Lucy! Demon, take off your clothes and prove who you really are!
Lucy did not care at all and merely shrugged. "Nothing. I just happened to see the news."
She was just someone who coasted through life and ate until she died. If Lu Ze were not from Great Xia, she would not have bothered caring about such news in the slightest. Eating more delicious food was much more comfortable.
As the two chatted, a familiar face that somehow seemed unfamiliar walked in from outside the laboratory.
"My two students, it really has been a long time." Michael Hasen walked to the table and casually picked up an egg tart to eat.
As their supervising professor, he was usually impossible to pin down. It was rare to see him even once every few days.
Even after issuing laboratory research assignments, he would create a document and then vanish without another word, leaving its progress permanently at 0.0001%.
It could be said that he was the true supreme king of slacking off.
"Professor Hasen, the last time we met was at that Italian restaurant."
Lucy spoke indignantly.
One of her beloved blueberry egg tarts had just been stolen? Unforgivable.
"Good morning, Professor Hasen." Lu Ze smiled.
"Lu, how have things been in the laboratory lately?"
Michael Hasen sat down carelessly. "Has the situation improved a little compared with before? Or has it gotten worse?"
Though he looked rather rough on the outside, he was actually quite thoughtful inside.
He might not be able to help this student of his rise to great heights, but at the very least, he wanted Lu Ze to be comfortable in the laboratory.
Lu Ze thought for a moment and shook his head. "I'm seeking change, but there hasn't been much of a breakthrough yet."
When it came to being mediocre and slacking off, he still had much to learn from this old senior.
"Prejudice is always the hardest thing to change." Michael Hasen took a drink of ice water and continued burying himself in the food. "You could learn more from people from India."
"Sometimes, appropriately showing your flaws is your best strategy. The people who seem to have no flaws are the ones others guard against most."
A mediocre person without obvious flaws was likewise not someone others would trust.
Meanwhile, people who visibly had a pile of flaws often found it extremely easy to gain trust, because nobody considered them a threat.
Lu Ze felt as if his Ren and Du meridians had been opened in that instant.
As expected of the supreme sage of the slacking world. Master, I understand now!
"Master, why do you understand this so well?" Lu Ze asked curiously.
"I'm a Slav. My original name was actually Tomislavski Hasen." Michael Hasen's voice carried a hint of mockery.
Hearing this, Lu Ze understood everything.
Good heavens, could Professor Hasen have been a scientist Eagle Sauce poached when the old big brother fell apart?
No wonder he understood so well what exclusion meant and what it truly meant to slack off.
After being tempted by Eagle Sauce's empty promises, he had come here excitedly and even changed his original name to an American one. Yet what he encountered here was extreme distrust and neglect. He did not even have the chance to participate in any important research projects.
Only by working so hard at slacking off had he earned the right to survive.
(PS: I'll go back to 3,000 to 4,000 words per chapter later. Subscriptions are still a little short of one thousand, so please click on the first chapter, dear readers. There will be an extra update tomorrow.)
(Four updates today, totaling 11,000 words.)
Before you continue