Chapter 558: What Should Have Been Our Market

Defense Secretary Wilson slammed his fist on the table, "No matter how they did it, the point is they have already done it! And they announced they are opening up licensing and setting standards—do you understand what this means?"

The IBM executive was pale as a sheet, "Personal computers... operating systems... that should have been our market! Our standards! They are seizing the high ground of future technology!"

"Not only that," the Pentagon's technical advisor added, "the 'Pangu Net' they mentioned is, in essence, a global information network. Whoever controls this network controls the future flow of information. This is more strategically significant than any weapons system."

Wilson slumped in his chair, his voice hoarse, "It's not just weapons... they are controlling the cornerstone of the future information world! What do we do?"

No one could answer this question. From theory to practice, from hardware to software, the technical prowess displayed by Long Country was practically a dimensional strike, causing the technological advantage the Star-Spangled Country prided itself on to vanish into thin air overnight.

"We must report to the President immediately," Wilson finally said, "at the same time, raise the priority of the 'Prometheus Project' to the highest level, concentrate national resources, we must catch up to the technical level of the Longxin-III in the shortest possible time."

"But that is almost impossible," Rogers said bitterly, "following the normal path of technological development, even with the full strength of the nation, it would take at least ten years."

"Then find a shortcut!" Wilson snapped, "Intelligence agencies, research institutions, private enterprises, everyone get to work! I don't care what method you use, the Star-Spangled Country cannot fall behind in this information revolution!"

California, Silicon Valley

In an inconspicuous office building, several young engineers who had just started their businesses sat huddled around a television, their expressions frozen. They had just watched the recording of the Long Country technology launch, and everyone was immersed in an indescribable shock and sense of frustration.

William Shockley, a pioneer in semiconductor research, looked grim, "We thought we were at the forefront, only to find that others are already ten years ahead of us."

"That graphical interface," Steve watched the screen, a strange light flickering in his eyes, "it's simply..."

"Revolutionary," Bill took over, his voice carrying a hint of unwillingness and admiration, "They aren't just leading in technology; what's more terrifying is that they are leading in their approach—they understand that the future of the computer lies in popularization, in simplifying operations, so that everyone can use it."

"And they also have the 'Pangu Net'," another engineer said, "a global information network... this is practically the ultimate form of the ARPANET project."

The office was silent; everyone was digesting this cruel reality: their self-proclaimed "Silicon Valley spirit" and innovation advantage appeared so pale and weak in front of Long Country. This was a suffocating dimensional strike from the East.

"What should we do?" Someone asked the question on everyone's mind.

Shockley pondered for a moment, "Two paths: either accept Long Country's rules of the game and apply for their technology licenses; or blaze a new trail and look for areas they haven't yet touched..."

"Or," a glint of light flashed in Bill's eyes, "we can learn from their approach, but create our own technological ecosystem."

No matter which path they chose, they all understood that Silicon Valley—this tech hub that had not yet truly risen—was facing unprecedented challenges and opportunities.

New City, Time Magazine headquarters

At an emergency editorial meeting, the editor-in-chief threw out an explosive headline: "Technological Pearl Harbor: Long Country's Digital Raid"

"This is the most significant tech news of the century," the editor-in-chief said excitedly, "I want four pages, reporting every detail of the Longxin-III and the Pangu Operating System, while analyzing the impact this has on the Star-Spangled Country's technological hegemony."

A senior reporter said worriedly, "Will this cause panic? The public might question why we have fallen behind in such a critical field of technology."

"Panic? That is exactly what we need!" The editor-in-chief stood up and slammed the table, "This is a wake-up call. The Star-Spangled Country needs to clearly realize that we are no longer the only technology leader. The rise of Long Country is no longer a military or economic threat, but a direct challenge to our discourse power in the future world!"

The editorial department was buzzing; reporters scrambled to propose various reporting angles and analytical frameworks. The Longxin-III special issue of Time Magazine was destined to become a historical landmark, recording the massive shift in the world order in the field of information technology.

Global media reaction

In the following days, global media were frantically reporting on the revolutionary breakthroughs of the Longxin-III and the Pangu Operating System. All kinds of speculation, analysis, and commentary came flooding in:

The Times: "The Eastern Dragon Awakens: A New Hegemon of the Computer Age"

Paris World Newspaper: "Digital Revolution: Long Country Defines the Future"

Tokyo News: "Computer Shock: Asian Neighbor Displays Astonishing Technical Prowess"

Governments, enterprises, and research institutions around the world were urgently assessing the impact of the Longxin-III on the global technological landscape. A consensus was forming: Long Country was no longer a backward agricultural nation, but a powerful nation leading a new technological revolution. Moreover, the impact of this revolution might be more profound than the Industrial Revolution—it would reshape the way humanity acquires, processes, and transmits information.

At Penglai Base, Li Mingyuan stood by the window, looking at the distant sea, a faint smile on his face. He knew that the world was operating according to his script, an unprecedented information revolution was about to begin, and Long Country would be the leader of this revolution.

"Pangu created the world," he whispered to himself, "and I, will reshape the order of this world."

On the sea, the morning sun rose, golden sunlight spilling onto the sparkling water, as if countless information nodes were flickering and connecting, weaving into an invisible net covering the globe—the Pangu Net.

…

Li Mingyuan closed the window and turned back to his desk. The walls of the office were already covered with the front-page headlines of newspapers from around the world, each one reporting on the astonishing breakthrough of the Longxin-III.

"Chief Engineer Li, come look at this." Secretary Zhang pushed the door open, holding a freshly translated foreign newspaper in his hand.

Li Mingyuan took it, glanced at it, and couldn't help but laugh out loud: "'The Longxin Hoax: Eastern Sorcery or Clever Smoke and Mirrors?', tsk tsk, these guys in the Star-Spangled Country are really stubborn to the end."

"It's not just this one," Secretary Zhang handed over a stack of clippings, "almost all mainstream Western media are questioning our technology, saying things like 'violates basic principles of electronics', 'carefully orchestrated propaganda stunt', and some even analyze that we used special effects and magic tricks at the launch."

Li Mingyuan flipped through these reports, the smile on his face growing thicker: "These people really think they are God; anything they can't understand must be fake, right?"

"You aren't angry?" Secretary Zhang was somewhat puzzled.

"Angry?" Li Mingyuan put down the newspaper, "This is exactly the effect I wanted. The more they question, the harder their faces will be slapped later." He tapped the table, "By the way, how is the construction progress of the 'Pangu Net' test nodes?"