I Usually Only Talk to Your Minister of Defense

The person on the other end of the line was, of course, Worthington II, who had just dropped a bombshell at the press conference. This self-important, elite white man still had no idea what a massive mess he had stirred up, nor did he realize that Xiang Qian had already made up his mind to strike Worthington Industries with lethal intent.

In the receiver, Worthington II's voice sounded a bit more anxious: "Mr. Xiang, please, you must understand. Everything I said to the media came from the bottom of my heart. I sincerely want to help mutants."

"You should remember our previous discussions about the mutant issue. You know my true thoughts; mutants are not outsiders, they are human beings, just like people who have fallen ill. We have all seen those mutants who have undergone mutations. Except for a very few lucky ones, most mutants have paid a truly tragic price..."

Worthington II rambled on, but Xiang Qian didn't take in a single word. Worthington II's rhetoric was essentially no different from what Xiang Qian had said to Professor X, but often, the right or wrong of a matter lies not in what is said, but in who is saying it.

Xiang Qian could say the same things, and even say them more harshly, and Professor X would still have to respond with civility; even Magneto would not dare to act rashly.

What was Worthington II, by comparison?

"Mr. Worthington, your performance is truly disappointing." Xiang Qian impatiently interrupted the other man's long-winded speech. "Even now, you haven't grasped the point of the matter, only obsessing over trivial details."

"The point? What point? I thought..."

Xiang Qian interrupted him again: "Your thoughts are not important at all. What is important is that your recent actions will cause significant losses to Worthington Industries, and most importantly, to your partner—which is me."

"I don't understand. If it's a matter of market promotion for the serum, I can assure you that I have made full arrangements. Worthington Industries has mature market channels and an excellent promotion team. We are currently in negotiations with the federal government..."

Xiang Qian interrupted him for the third time: "Your market channels and promotion team are irrelevant. Out of a sense of responsibility as a partner, I want to offer you a friendly warning: Worthington Industries is about to face a catastrophic disaster."

Amidst Worthington II's stunned silence, Xiang Qian continued: "In just under ten minutes at that press conference, you managed to enrage the most terrifying terrorist on American soil. If I were you, I would hurry up and buy a massive amount of life and property insurance for myself and the company. That way, perhaps you won't end up scavenging for trash in the slums for the rest of your life."

After a moment of silence, a strange voice sounded from the receiver: "We will not tolerate any terrorist activities on American soil, nor can any terrorist organization do as it pleases on American land. We have the capability to protect the safety of Worthington Industries."

Compared to Worthington II's anxious, weary tone, this new voice sounded firm, powerful, and full of confidence.

"And who the hell are you?" Xiang Qian frowned and said irritably, "Did no one ever teach you that interrupting is very rude?"

"General Ross, United States Air Force."

"Never heard of you. I generally only speak with your Secretary of Defense." Xiang Qian couldn't be bothered to humor this self-important American soldier. "Now you can return the phone to Mr. Worthington. I didn't expect that, besides unauthorized disclosure of product information, he had also hooked up with the U.S. military beforehand. I hope he isn't stupid enough to have leaked the core technology of the product to you as well."

General Ross, however, was not a man to be easily dismissed. He possessed the typical arrogance of an American soldier, along with a near-reckless, hardline style: "I have been authorized to handle this in its entirety..."

"Beep... beep... beep..."

General Ross stared at the phone in his hand, dumbfounded—Xiang Qian had hung up directly.

Seeing General Ross looking as if he were about to explode with rage, Worthington II hurriedly snatched the phone back and dialed Xiang Qian's number again, but all he heard was a series of "the party you are calling is busy" prompts.

Worthington II looked at General Ross in embarrassment, and they stood there, speechless.

Fortunately, the awkward silence did not last long. A communications soldier under General Ross hurried over to them and handed the General a communicator that looked like an old-fashioned telephone.

"General, a high-level communication request."

High-level meant the caller possessed a higher level of clearance, and of course, it often meant they held a higher rank.

"Whose is it?" General Ross asked irritably.

"The Secretary of Defense."

"..."

"Hello, Mr. Secretary." General Ross, still fuming, forced himself to answer the call.

Worthington II, standing to the side, couldn't hear what was being said on the other end, but he watched in horror as General Ross's expression underwent a violent transformation in a very short time.

"Sir, I thought I had received full authorization for the operation."

"Your Excellency, I don't think you realize the value of this incident. This serum is crucial to us. Its strategic significance cannot be overstated."

"We must keep it in our hands. So what if that Chinese man holds the key technology? We have ways to make him spit it out."

"I know he has connections with many people in Washington. That playboy spends hundreds of millions of dollars a year to buy them all off, yet no one has thought about how much benefit he has taken from the United States."

"This is treason. This is selling out the national interests of the United States."

Worthington II watched the performance of changing faces before him, stunned.

General Ross, a high-ranking officer with the style of an old-school cowboy, had turned bright red after answering the call, and then his hair seemed to stand on end as his fury erupted. He paced back and forth, shouting into the receiver, venting his anger recklessly.

But before hanging up, Worthington II heard General Ross's final words:

"...yes sir..."

The atmosphere fell into a second awkward silence. In this atmosphere, the sudden ringing of Worthington II's phone became piercingly sharp.

"Hello, Mr. Xiang." Worthington II answered the phone.

But Xiang Qian had no intention of talking to this self-righteous, foolish old white man anymore: "Give the phone to General Ross. You need to understand that, right now, the whole matter is no longer under your control."

Worthington II handed the phone to the old cowboy with a complex expression. As a major capitalist controlling an industry giant, even if Worthington II were slow-witted, he should have realized by now that things had spiraled out of control, and the future would inevitably deviate significantly from his original intentions.

"General Ross, is it?" Xiang Qian sneered. "I hope you have a basic understanding of the current situation. Are you ready for war?"

General Ross was, after all, a man who had weathered many storms, and he quickly regained control of his emotions, though his tone remained as hardline as ever: "Do not doubt our professionalism. We are the most powerful military in the world."

"I beg to differ." Xiang Qian gave a slight, cold laugh. On this point, he possessed a pride even stronger than General Ross's—one bestowed by history and his ancestors.

"I cannot comment on your professionalism and combat effectiveness, as I rarely have the opportunity to interact with the U.S. military. After all, I am fortunate enough to have been born in a country that has no U.S. military bases."