Li Chengzhi looked at Chen Mo, his thoughts drifting.
The youth before him didn't have three heads or six arms—but in this moment, he might as well have. In the eyes of the public, Chen Mo had become more than a genius or an inventor. He had become a national treasure.
Online, netizens had already given him a bold new nickname:
"The Opponent of the God of Death."
The arrival of the seismograph had changed everything. No longer was earthquake prediction an unreachable fantasy. Chen Mo had pulled humanity one step further from nature's grasp.
His name now resonated across the nation, surpassing the bounds of fame or genius. More than a few people were calling him the greatest mind of the 21st century. And the most astonishing thing? He was still so young.
Even someone as seasoned as Li Chengzhi couldn't help but feel a little in awe.
"After your successful warning, both Chile and Indonesia have reached out," Li said. "High-level visits may happen soon. Their interest in the seismograph is obvious."
Chen Mo nodded. It was only natural—both countries were frequent victims of large earthquakes. For them, this technology was more than valuable—it was life-saving.
"The seismograph isn't just a scientific breakthrough," Li continued. "It's a strategic asset. Diplomatic, even."
He leaned forward.
"Can you confirm the technology hasn't leaked?"
"Of course not." Chen Mo raised an eyebrow. "You think I'd let that happen?"
"And the one they took?"
"Scrap metal now. Worthless." Chen Mo's tone was calm. "Burned out. By design."
Li Chengzhi relaxed visibly.
The technology behind the seismograph wasn't just about sensors or signal processing—it was a guarded secret. If another country managed to reverse-engineer it, China would lose not only technological ground but also major diplomatic leverage.
When the seismograph was taken, no one had thought Chen Mo would succeed. Everyone had dismissed it as a publicity stunt. Now, with the earthquake confirmed, those same people were scrambling to recover lost ground.
Chen Mo reached into his bag and pulled out a neatly bound research paper.
"This is the full version of my earthquake early-warning theory. The one I published earlier was only partial. I'll be filing a patent soon, but you can give this copy to Professor Wu Zhen. It should help with ongoing research."
Li's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't expected this.
To him, it was priceless. But to Chen Mo, it was merely theory—not the real treasure. The true core of the seismograph's function remained tightly sealed in his mind and with the marching ant company's proprietary systems.
"Thank you," Li said seriously, accepting the document. "On behalf of those who've suffered from earthquakes… thank you."
The paper alone was already a landmark contribution to earthquake science. Chen Mo's technology—built on top of it—had simply pushed it into history.
Li and Director Cheng Guo had arrived quickly, and they left just as fast. But their short visit had accomplished everything it needed to. They left with smiles on their faces—and the beginning of a formal cooperation.
Meanwhile, online discussions about the marching ant company and its seismograph hadn't stopped for a moment. The warning Chen Mo issued to the country that took their equipment had made headlines too. Netizens assumed the message was aimed squarely at the island nation, and many mocked it publicly.
They didn't realize the truth: the Americans had taken one too.
That piece of information had been carefully kept out of public view.
Norfolk Naval Base — USA
In a secured hangar, Carter stood proudly, watching as a team of engineers worked on the seismograph he had salvaged from the sea.
The first earthquake warning, just hours earlier, had come from this very device.
He was sure of it—this thing worked. Now all that mattered was unlocking its secrets.
Let the Chinese company bark their threats. If this was a matter between governments, maybe it would carry some weight. But Marching Ants was just a company. It didn't matter how many seismographs they built—if America could replicate it, they'd win the real prize.
Then came the moment of truth.
The device's outer shell was carefully removed.
And immediately—panic.
"What the hell...?"
Black smoke. Burnt circuits. Charred boards. The inside looked like someone had taken a blowtorch to it.
An acrid, metallic stench filled the air, and a few technicians stumbled back coughing. Every microchip was fried, every internal trace ruined.
The entire inner system had self-destructed.
"Is this some kind of trap?" one engineer muttered.
"It was working when we pulled it up!" Carter insisted. "It was transmitting data. I saw it myself!"
"Then who the hell burned it?"
Silence.
Carter's face turned cold. He had no idea. The device had shut down just after recovery. No one had tampered with it. No one could have tampered with it.
"Run a diagnostic on the recovery logs. Check if any transmission was sent before failure."
"Sir, we'll also need to interrogate the salvage team."
Tension rose in the room. They had risked everything to grab this prize—and now it was nothing but a husk. Carter clenched his jaw.
He'd been played.
Meanwhile — Island Nation Naval Command
Shi Tengchuan stood at attention, enduring a verbal lashing from his superior.
"What do you mean the Americans beat you to it?"
"They were already retrieving the device when we arrived—"
"No excuses!"
The officer slammed his teacup down, eyes burning.
"We missed our chance last time too! That one was damaged. Now we've lost another! Do you know what this means for our national security?!"
Shi Tengchuan remained silent, his expression grim.
"I want a working seismograph," the old man said coldly. "Search the path the Huaxia expedition team used. Sweep every square meter with sonar. Don't come back empty-handed."
"But the search area is too large—"
"Then make it smaller! Get creative! Just get it done."
"Yes, sir."
Shi Tengchuan turned and left, shoulders heavy.
This time, they wouldn't settle for failure.