With authorization from the World Security Council, the nuclear bomb General Ross detonated failed to kill Su Ming.
Instead, it provoked Su Ming's fury and sent him hurtling toward Washington, D.C.
He carried an unparalleled sense of oppression with him.
The number of vehicles on the streets plummeted.
Pedestrians hurried along with panic-stricken faces, occasionally looking up in terror at the lead-gray, suffocating sky.
The bustling city sank into an eerie, deathly silence, like a storm about to break.
Only the occasional wail of sirens tore through the stillness, making the sense of foreboding even stronger.
Su Ming had deliberately controlled his flight speed.
Rather than arriving in an instant, he flew steadily and irresistibly over the city at subsonic speed.
This kind of "slowness" was even more oppressive than speed!
It was as though he were declaring:
"I'm here. What can you do about it?"
Su Ming flew extremely low, almost skimming over the tops of the Washington Monument and Lincoln Memorial.
The people on the ground could even vaguely make out the silhouette of that tiny figure radiating boundless pressure.
As well as the energy trail behind him that made space itself subtly distort.
With every breath, they could feel the heart-stopping pressure brought by that figure.
Su Ming did not attack any target, nor did he even release any energy.
Yet it was precisely this absolute calm and "harmless" posture, combined with the precedent in the Alps,
that created the most terrifying deterrence!
He was like the Sword of Damocles hanging over Washington.
The sword had not fallen, but everyone knew:
The moment it did, destruction would follow.
Su Ming did not choose the White House, symbol of supreme authority, nor did he choose the Pentagon, the military's core.
His figure ultimately came to a halt before