126: Chapter 126 The Patriarch Arrives in Person, Using an Iron Fist to Suppress Public Sentiment

Augustus didn't grab Sterling by the collar like he usually did.

He merely propped his heavy fists on the edge of the analysis table, keeping his head low as the stale air in his chest repeatedly escaped in heavy, ragged breaths, like a bull trapped in an iron cage.

From the corner of his eye, he scanned the overturned equipment on the floor, which still bore the bloody handprints of the scientists. The voice coming from his throat was several degrees hoarser than usual.

“I don't regret joining the Longevity Faction, nor do I regret working for Lord Zhang Long.”

“But now, everything before us forces me to think: we are standing before an enemy from the correct timeline, yet we don't even have the right to calculate what the correct timeline itself actually is.”

Diana raised her eyes,

taking in the scientists still struggling silently in the laboratory, the shattered wreckage of instruments on the floor, and Augustus standing silently by the analysis table with his fists pressed against the surface—all of it absorbed into her cold, stern face, which was accustomed to maintaining sub-zero emotions even during an avalanche.

Her voice was neither fast nor shouting, unlike Sterling's uncontrolled muttering or Augustus's heavy roaring.

Her voice was simply steady—so steady that it felt as if she had already calculated everyone's retreat, and was now pointing at the only door that could still be opened.

“If we betray the Longevity Faction now, we die right now.”

“If we remain firm in our stance and follow the Longevity Faction, we still have time.”

“Time itself is a variable.”

“Panicking won't help.”

“As long as we remain on the side of the Longevity Faction, we can still adapt to circumstances over a longer timeline.”

“But if we panic and lose our footing now, we won't even have the chance to adapt.”

Sterling, however, had no intention of shutting up.

He slammed the alien material stress distribution map onto the table. As the paper slowly fluttered down, his voice continued to burst forth.

“Stability... stability... what's the use of stability?”

“The Longevity Faction only has a fleet of a hundred thousand ships. We stand on their side, and then Grey Alien' army of millions arrives at our doorstep...”

“Tell me, does your adaptation include teaching me how to convince an alien fleet—whose Fourth Prince had his chest cut open and his heart ripped out—to accept the surrender of us agents of the Longevity Faction?”

“A hundred thousand against millions, a timeline that is wrong to its very core against a correct timeline...”

“Shut up!”

Augustus suddenly spun around from the analysis table, his voice so loud that the emergency lights at the top of the laboratory trembled slightly from the shockwave.

He grabbed Sterling by the collar and shoved him against the tool rack behind him, sending metal bolts and parts clattering to the floor.

Sterling's back of the head almost hit the welding torch,

yet even within the distance where Augustus's fist could strike at any second, there was still no courage to fight back in his eyes, only the defensive posture of a cornered beast driven to shame and rage.

“Does shutting up make a difference?”

“Will shutting up turn the Solar System into a correct timeline?”

“Will shutting up make a fleet of millions turn back to the Zeta Star?”

“Enough! Everyone, stop!” Diana's voice finally bared its blade.

It was not a shout, but every word she spoke carried a force that instinctively made people stop, like a saber that had been hidden in its scabbard for far too long, finally drawn halfway in a moment of need.

Augustus's fist, still clutching Sterling's collar, froze in mid-air,

while Sterling's lips continued to tremble, though no more mutterings spilled out.

Just then, directly above the roof of the research base, a sudden clap of thunder exploded from a clear sky.

A thick, blue-white pillar of lightning crashed through the skylight structure of the ceiling, illuminating everyone's faces in a deathly pale light.

As the lightning faded, in the center of the scorched and cracked floor, Zhang Long stood amidst the shattered glassware and the alien stress analysis modules that had rolled onto the ground, not yet reassembled.

He had changed his attire today, still wearing dark casual clothes, but his signature blue and black gloves still shimmered faintly inside the laboratory.

Sterling froze entirely. His mouth, which had still been muttering, opened and closed. He wanted to take a step back, but slipped slightly on the stress distribution map he had just thrown onto the floor.

Augustus quickly released his grip on Sterling's collar, took half a step back, and lowered his head.

Diana cast her gaze downward,

while Keating and Beatrice, falling silent in unison, also gently lowered their heads.

Not a single person in the laboratory dared to look Zhang Long in the eye.

Zhang Long took a step forward, walking unhurriedly toward Sterling.

His leather shoes stepped on the broken glass and the crooked casing of the rangefinder, making a faint crushing sound.

Sterling backed away step by step, his lower back hitting the edge of the overturned analysis table, leaving him with nowhere to retreat,

yet Zhang Long continued to press forward, step by step.

He steady himself in front of Sterling, looking down at the pale arms aristocrat. His tone wasn't loud, but every word felt as though it had been soaked in ice water and then pressed onto a steel plate.

“Does relying on the Longevity Faction make you feel ashamed?”

“Do you think being an agent for the Longevity Faction is a disgrace?”

“Do you feel that because you are the master behind General Dynamics, a century-old military-industrial noble, being called a 'dog of the Longevity Faction' is too much for your self-esteem to bear?”

Sterling's back pressed against the edge of the analysis table, brushing several scattered electrode wires to the ground. His open lips trembled several times before he managed to squeeze a few broken words from his throat:

“Lord Zhang Long, I... I didn't mean that...”

“No?”

Zhang Long's tone remained calm, but that calmness itself sent a chill down one's spine more than any outburst of rage.

“Have you started to regret becoming part of the Deep State's Longevity Faction?”

“Do you think we are defensive, conservative, and lacking ambition, unworthy of a descendant of a century-old noble family like you?”

“Or do you believe that the Longevity Faction's hundred thousand Space Fleet ships are destined to be reduced to ashes before Grey Alien' fleet of millions, so you are regretting early and paving a way out for yourself in advance?”

Stared down by those eyes that were cold to the point of indifference, Sterling stammered, not daring to answer.

His gaze darted left and right,

looking at Augustus only to receive no support,

looking at Diana only to see the top of her lowered head.

Every single physical line of defense Sterling had was finally pierced through all support by his own terror.

Zhang Long paid no more attention to Sterling.

He turned around and shifted his gaze to Diana, those extremely cold eyes lingering for an extra breath during this brief scan.

His tone was no longer the sharp-coldness he had used with Sterling,

but rather had a clean, clear, and objective recognition free of any prejudice, like something newly smoothed over.

“You.”

“Very good.”

“You didn't waver at the critical moment, you managed to steady the situation, and you know what to uphold and what not to.”

“You are worth cultivating.”