Chapter 227: Slander Rises Like a Tide of Evil Words

In Lin Gong Guan's study, dusk deepened. On the huge rosewood desk, stacks of newspapers piled up like mountains, the smell of ink permeating the air.

Qi Ming Yuan stood aside, looking at these newspapers from all sides—there were the English-printed 'Character Forest Western Newspaper' and 'Shen City Daily News', the French 'Continental Newspaper', and the 'Da Qian Daily' representing the court's official stance.

His face was calm, but his eyes revealed a hint of worry that was hard to conceal.

The headline of the 'Character Forest Western Newspaper' read in bold black type: 'Butcher Lin Yu: Shen City's Blood‑Red Dawn!', accompanied by a deliberately selected bloody photo of the execution scene at the square.

The 'Shen City Daily News' ran under the title 'The Retreat of Civilization: The Trampling of the Three Powers and the Blood of the Innocent', claiming that Lin Yu's actions 'had dragged Shen City back into barbarism'.

The 'Continental Newspaper' went further, using the headline 'The Rise of the Dictator: Shen City Falls Under Terror Rule' as its title, describing the whole event as 'a challenge to the civilized world'.

Most striking was the 'Da Qian Daily', the official newspaper representing the court's stance, which attacked Lin Yu with astonishing wording: 'The Road to Usurpation by the Director of the Fourth Bureau of the Security Command Headquarters: Disloyal, Unjust, Unkind!'. The article claimed Lin Yu 'had overstepped his authority', 'harmed the innocent', and even openly suggested he harbored 'disloyal intentions'.

"Commander," Qi Ming Yuan finally spoke, "These newspapers are clearly an organized, premeditated public opinion offensive. They not only distort facts but also try to stir up public sentiment. Especially the 'Da Qian Daily', obviously from the court's side..."

Lin Yu casually flipped through the newspapers, showing no sign of being affected by these remarks. His gaze swept over the incendiary headlines, and the corner of his mouth curled into a faint, mocking smile.

"Executioner? Devil? Rebel?" He picked up the "Da Qian Daily", his finger lightly tapping the large characters "Disloyal, Unjust, Unkind", "The old fogies of the court react pretty fast—looks like they're truly afraid I'll slip out of their control."

He tossed the newspapers back onto the desk, rose, and walked to the window. In the night, Shen City's lights blazed, and the sounds of citizens celebrating could still be heard on the streets.

"Do they think that ink on paper can shake my position in Shen City?" Lin Yu's voice carried a hint of disdain, "Really laughable. Those foreigners' newspapers are just the howls of a defeated dog. As for the court...' He turned, his eyes flashing a sharp light, 'They should have realized long ago that this Shen City is my Shen City.'

His tone was calm, yet it conveyed a strong confidence, as if these surging public opinion offensives were, in his eyes, nothing more than insignificant ripples.

Let me describe this scene full of scheming:

Night deepened, the lights in Lin Gong Guan's study remained bright. Lin Yu lowered the newspaper in his hand, his gaze turning to Qi Ming Yuan, who had been standing aside: 'How is the situation outside?'

Qi Ming Yuan organized his thoughts and began a brief report: 'Public opinion pressure is indeed great. International mainstream media such as the 'Times' and the 'New York Times' have published fierce editorials, describing you, Commander, as 'the tyrant of the East'.

He paused, then continued: 'Inside the city, some merchants with deep ties to foreigners and a few veteran officials of Great Dry have recently shown abnormal activity, but all are under our surveillance, and so far there has been no substantive action.'

Lin Yu nodded, his face showing no surprise, as if everything had been within his expectations. He pressed the electric bell on the desk—a delicate copper button that gave a clear, pleasant chime.

Moments later, a young man in a neat suit, sharp‑eyed, pushed the door open. This was the talent Lin Yu had previously summoned from the system, now the City Hall Chief of Shen City, Zhou Wei. His every move exuded a modern professional air, which seemed out of place in this era yet fit perfectly into the new Shen City system Lin Yu had built.

"Zhou Wei," Lin Yu's gaze fell on this capable assistant, "arrange for a press conference tomorrow morning at ten in the City Hall Grand Auditorium."

Zhou Wei's eyes flashed with realization. As a talent who had crossed over from modern society, he fully understood the significance of holding a press conference at such a moment—to respond directly to all doubts and steer public opinion.

"Yes, Commander." Zhou Wei bowed slightly, his voice steady, "Do I need to prepare any materials in advance? For example, the legal basis for executing the foreign spies, or legal support for seizing foreign-owned enterprises?"

Lin Yu waved his hand, a faint smile playing on his lips, "No need. Let them ask; I'll see it through to the end."

Zhou Wei watched Lin Yu's confident bearing, understood. After confirming the time and place, he turned and left the study with brisk steps. As someone familiar with modern media operations, he had already begun to plan how to arrange this press conference destined to cause a sensation.

Lin Yu watched Zhou Wei's retreating back, a playful glint in his eye. Those who clamored in the newspapers, those forces stirring secretly, all thought he would retreat under public‑opinion pressure.

Little did they know, this good show had just begun. Tomorrow's press conference would be the stage where he displayed his strength to everyone, and also the declaration whereby he redefined Shen City's rules.

Qi Ming Yuan looked at Lin Yu's expression and suddenly realized: the Commander was about to make a bigger move. This press conference was likely not just to answer doubts but to use the opportunity to firmly establish his absolute authority in Shen City.

At nine o'clock the next morning, the Shen City City Hall Grand Auditorium had been completely renewed. On the spacious stage, a long table draped with deep‑red velvet stretched across, atop which several brand‑new American‑imported microphones were neatly placed.

On the wall behind the stage, the emblem of Shen City City Hall gleamed in the light, and beside it hung a huge flag—not the dragon flag of the Da Qian Court, but a flag personally designed by Lin Yu, symbolizing his unique authority in Shen City.

Below the stage, hundreds of neatly arranged chairs were already more than half filled. The front‑row section gathered reporters from various countries, some holding the latest Leica cameras, some clutching notebooks, whispering among themselves. The air was thick with tension and anticipation, as if everyone awaited an important showdown.

Near the aisle, a few blond‑haired, blue‑eyed Anglo‑French reporters huddled together, whispering. One of the 'Times' reporters wore a haughty expression, occasionally making a snorting sound with his nose, drawing nods from those around him.

From the way they occasionally glanced toward the stage, it was clear they had prepared a string of sharp questions, ready to challenge the press conference.

In the corner, reporters from small countries were far more cautious. The great purge yesterday had left a deep impression on them; now they seemed more like observers than accusers.

Most eye‑catching was the middle‑aged man seated in the front row, center. He wore an exquisite blue long robe, his braid gleaming with oil—none other than Qian Zhi Yuan, Editor‑in‑Chief of the 'Da Qian Daily'.

At that moment he sat upright, expression grave, holding a neatly folded speech draft. His gaze occasionally swept the stage, his eyes bearing clear criticism—as the mouthpiece of the court, his visit obviously carried a special mission.

Inside and outside the auditorium, Lin Yu's power was everywhere. Soldiers in crisp uniforms guarded every entrance, eyes scanning every corner. Moreover, plain‑clothes agents of the Intelligence Bureau were seemingly scattered among the crowd, in fact sealing off the venue completely. The presence of these overt and covert forces silently reminded everyone: this was Lin Yu's turf, everything under his control.

As the press conference's start time approached, the atmosphere in the hall grew increasingly tense. Reporters organized their interview outlines, cameramen adjusted their equipment, yet everyone could feel the imminent, explosive tension in the air—like the calm before a storm, making people hold their breath in anticipation of the coming thunder.