Chapter 228: Tongues Clash, Reporters Gather as Winds and Clouds Converge

At exactly ten in the morning, the side door of the grand hall suddenly opened, and a slight commotion spread through the crowd. Lin Yu entered the venue steadily accompanied by Qi Ming Yuan, Zhou Wei, and others. He wore a finely tailored dark military uniform, without any flashy medals or decorations, yet his whole person exuded an aura of dignified authority without anger.

Lin Yu's steps were steady and powerful, his military boots striking the floor with a rhythmic sound. His gaze was sharp as a knife, sweeping unhurriedly over the dense crowd below. The reporters who had been whispering among themselves fell silent involuntarily when their eyes met his. For a moment, the entire hall fell silent, as if everyone were cowed by the man's powerful presence.

After mounting the rostrum, Lin Yu seated himself calmly in the central position. His bearing was not affected, yet it naturally conveyed a lofty dignity. Qi Ming Yuan and the other attendants took seats on either side of him, forming a strict formation.

Zhou Wei adjusted his suit and walked to the microphone. As a talent from modern society, he handled such occasions with ease. He began with standard Chinese: 'Good morning, guests and fellow reporters.' Then he repeated it fluently in English.

"Thank you all for attending today's press conference." Zhou Wei's voice echoed through the hall via the microphone: "Recently, there has been much discussion across society about some incidents that occurred in Shen City. Commander Lin has decided to take this opportunity to communicate frankly with everyone and address your concerns. Now, please, reporters, ask your questions."

After the brief opening remarks, the reporters below instantly perked up. Countless flashbulbs blazed simultaneously, like fireworks suddenly bursting in the night sky, flooding the hall with bright light. The shutter clicks—'click, click'—rose and fell as reporters vied to capture this historic moment.

Sitting in the front row, Da Qian Daily's editor-in-chief Qian Zhi Yuan gripped his manuscript tightly, a flash of severity in his eyes. Several Anglo-French reporters had already raised their hands eagerly, their faces wearing an aggressive expression. The reporters from smaller nations, however, appeared hesitant, as if waiting for the right moment.

Lin Yu leaned back in his chair, composed, his gaze calmly fixed on the restless reporters below. The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, revealing a faint, elusive smile, as if he were fully prepared and ready to meet any challenge.

The tension in the air had almost solidified; everyone was waiting for the first question to be raised.

As soon as Zhou Wei finished speaking, a tall figure sprang up from the front row without waiting for the moderator's cue. The blond‑haired, blue‑eyed British reporter launched his question in heavily accented English, his voice booming, his tone unmistakably arrogant and provocative:

"Commander Lin! I am John Wilson of the Times." He straightened his back, looking down at the podium, "On what basis of international law or Great Dry law do you authorize your troops to carry out mass arrests and executions of unarmed Japanese expatriates in Shen City? Do you consider this a blatant trampling of basic human rights and civilized norms?"

His question struck at the heart of the matter, each word sharp, brimming with condemnation from the moral high ground. Before his words had even faded, the hall buzzed with whispers, and flashbulbs blazed densely, all trained on Lin Yu's expression.

Before Lin Yu could reply, a female French reporter in a stylish suit from the second row rose to her feet. Her blond curls gleamed under the lights as she posed her question in fluent French. The on‑site interpreter immediately began simultaneous translation:

"Commander Lin, I am Marie Dupont of Figaro." Her voice elegant yet aggressive, "According to what we know, your forces have also sealed off several Anglo‑French firms legally operating in Shen City and arrested their managers. Does this mean you intend to overturn all the commercial treaties you have signed with other nations and expel every foreign power from Shen City? Have you considered the serious diplomatic repercussions such actions might provoke?"

This question cut even deeper, aiming straight at commercial interests and international relations. The foreign reporters below nodded in agreement, some even beginning to jot notes rapidly in their notebooks. The atmosphere in the hall instantly turned tense and confrontational.

Flashbulbs popped off repeatedly, like countless bolts of lightning exploding inside the hall. Everyone waited for Lin Yu's reaction, hoping to catch any flaw that might appear under his sharp questioning. The reporters from smaller nations also raised their cameras, fearful of missing any detail.

Standing to the side, Zhou Wei's expression remained unchanged, but inwardly he broke a sweat for Lin Yu. These veteran media reporters clearly came prepared; their questions targeted the legality and international impact of the action, and a careless answer could easily spark a larger diplomatic crisis.

Yet when he turned his head to look at Lin Yu, he found the commander still maintaining his composed, unhurried demeanor.

As the uproar from the foreign reporters' questioning had not yet subsided, a more dramatic scene suddenly erupted. Qian Zhi Yuan, editor‑in‑chief of Da Qian Daily, seated dead center in the front row, sprang to his feet, his glossy braid swinging with his agitated motion. Without waiting for Zhou Wei's signal, he shouted in a deliberately raised voice thick with officialdom:

"Commander Lin!" His voice boomed and pierced, instantly drowning out the hall's clamor, "I am the editor‑in‑chief of Da Qian Daily! May I ask, Commander Lin, you who were appointed by the court as Bureau Chief of the Security Command's Fourth Bureau, yet you hold onto your troops, seize control of Shen City by force—how is this any different from rebellion? This is disloyalty!"

His voice trembled with near‑hysterical anger, his whole body shaking slightly. The slick bureaucrat's façade was utterly cast aside, replaced by a fury rising from within. His finger almost pointed at Lin Yu's face as spit flew.

"You disregard the court's statutes, openly tear up treaties signed with friendly nations, unlawfully kill foreigners of neighboring states, provoke international disputes, and drag the court into injustice! This is unjust!"

An uproar erupted on site. Even the foreign reporters were stunned into silence by this sudden turn of events. The flashbulbs went into overdrive, freezing the scene on film.

Qian Zhi Yuan paused, drew a deep breath, and his voice grew more anguished: "Your methods are brutal, you kill at the drop of a hat, treat human lives as worthless weeds, causing Shen City to run red with blood, filling its people with panic, devoid of any compassion! This is inhumane!"

"Disloyalty, injustice, inhumanity"—these six words struck like nine heavy hammers, reverberating throughout the hall. This was no longer merely a personal attack on Lin Yu; it represented the court's harshest political accusation against him. Each word hit the core, hinting at a dangerous conclusion—that Lin Yu had strayed from the court's orthodoxy.

The atmosphere in the venue instantly froze to an extreme point. The reporters who had been whispering earlier held their breath. This press conference had far exceeded their expectations, turning into a gripping political showdown.

Everyone's eyes were fixed locked on Lin Yu on the podium. They expected to see this young warlord reveal panic, anger, or any loss of composure under such severe accusations. It was a pincer movement from inside and out, a three‑fold moral‑political killing blow; under that pressure, hardly anyone could stay calm.

Yet Lin Yu's expression surprised everyone. He retained his composed, unhurried bearing, the corner of his mouth even curling into an inscrutable cold smile. His gaze calmly swept over Qian Zhi Yuan's flushed face, then over the reporters below eager for drama, as if he were fully prepared and ready to give everyone a surprise.