At this moment, people in the human world no longer needed to watch any live television reports.
All they had to do was look up to see a colossal figure so immense that the sun beside it looked like a light bulb.
Inside a restaurant, the owner in chef's attire had closed for business because the streets were filled with gunfire and chaos. He set down the shotgun in his hand and reached for the TV remote.
He pressed the power button at the host, who was babbling nonstop about the dangers of the situation and urging everyone to take safety precautions.
"It's time to turn off the TV!"
As he tossed the remote aside, he muttered, "No matter how dark things get, you can never deny the possibility of redemption!"
Then he picked up the phone that kept ringing and threw it into the trash.
"Oh, damn phone radiation—it's practically going to rot my brain. Other than messages asking, 'Pete, are you okay?' and emergency alerts, what else is there? Maybe calls from telemarketers or something."
The restaurant owner directly cut off all contact with the outside world. He chose to shut out all sounds and pray for salvation to appear.
Inside the United States combat command center, All the officials rose to their feet and moved into a vast, sealed underground space.
The room covered several thousand square meters, comparable to a football field.
At its center, more than twenty criminals were bound.
"Our country has no death penalty. This violates legal responsibility!" The Minister of Justice shook his head repeatedly.
Everyone else completely ignored him. He was clearly just putting on an act.
Beneath the red button representing the White House, an FBI agent in a suit approached the criminals, his face pale yet resolute.
He opened