"The seismograph isn't being exported for now," Zhao Min said smoothly, "but we do need an EUV lithography machine for experiments. We're willing to trade seismographs for it. It's a fair deal."
Chen Mo stayed silent, calmly observing.
If they could secure a lithography machine—even just one—by offering two or three seismographs in return, it would be worth it.
Zhao Min turned her gaze to the foreign ambassador opposite them.
"If Ambassador Terry finds that unacceptable, no problem. You can wait until our seismographs are cleared for export," she said, her tone casual. "When the time comes, you can try to purchase one—assuming we're still accepting orders."
Terry gave a wry smile. "Miss Zhao, you make it sound so easy."
Zhao Min shrugged slightly. "We're not lacking in anything else, Mr. Terry. But I trust someone of your diplomatic skill will find a way to make this work."
Terry chuckled and shook his head. "You give me too much credit."
"In that case," Zhao Min said pleasantly, "we'll have to disappoint you. Of course, if you'd like to place an advance order now, we'll accept it. When the time is right, we'll deliver a unit. They're not expensive—just $50 million apiece."
The translator beside Terry blinked. Not expensive? Fifty million?
That line was destined to become a legendary quote—right up there with "a small goal of 100 million."
Terry's smile stiffened. He'd heard rumors about the seismograph's cost, but seeing the number confirmed hit differently.
"Can't you lower the price a little?" he asked hopefully.
"No." Zhao Min was firm. "That's the global rate. Every country pays the same. Our production is limited, and we can't guarantee order fulfillment dates. But if you provide a lithography machine, we can immediately send you two seismographs."
Terry fell into thought.
They needed the seismograph not just for deployment—but for research. The one they had secretly obtained earlier was damaged and yielded almost no usable technical data.
Getting their hands on a new, fully functional unit was critical. With it, they could try to reverse-engineer the operational algorithm and replicate it.
It was an opportunity no technologically ambitious nation could ignore.
"May I see the device?" Terry asked, still noncommittal.
"Of course. We have several models in our showroom," Zhao Min replied. "Please, follow me."
They led Terry and his delegation to the product showcase hall inside Marching Ant headquarters. A specially curated area, it displayed everything from consumer products to advanced tech like the seismograph.
After a brief tour, Terry thanked them and left with his aides, still deep in thought.
Back in the office, Chen Mo leaned back in his chair.
"The Americans came to us this time," he said. "What do you make of it?"
"They want to shift public blame for stealing the seismograph and get their hands on a new one—one that works," Zhao Min replied. "The old one they fished out was damaged and basically worthless for research."
She hit the nail on the head.
"They're offering the EUV tech in exchange for a seismograph. Do you think we have a shot?" Chen Mo asked.
"He didn't outright reject the idea," Zhao Min said. "That's a hopeful sign. I just used their desperation to drive a hard bargain. Even without a tech blockade, placing an order with ASML would take 21 months. Trading with us is much faster."
Chen Mo's eyes lit up. "What if we take it public? Offer three seismographs in exchange for a single EUV lithography system? Cast a wider net—we might attract someone unexpected."
Zhao Min nodded. "Good idea. We don't need to limit this to the U.S. Other countries have lithography systems too."
That afternoon, Marching Ant Company officially released a stunning statement:
"We are willing to exchange three fully functional seismographs for one EUV lithography machine."
The announcement exploded across international news networks.
The earthquake disaster in the island nation still loomed large. Fukushima's nuclear leakage had worsened, and the revelation that the U.S. had secretly taken a seismograph—then failed to utilize it—had fueled online rage in both countries.
Now, the seismograph had become a symbol of predictive power—the holy grail for countries prone to seismic disasters.
And Marching Ant had just offered a chance to get one—at a steep, but negotiable, price.
The global media pounced.
In China, the tech and semiconductor industries immediately took note. The country's lag in chip manufacturing wasn't due to design talent—it was due to the absence of high-end lithography machines.
Now, with one announcement, Marching Ant was signaling their entry into the semiconductor battlefield.
For many, this was a cold wind down their spines.
Intel Headquarters – United States
"What's your take on this?" Paul asked, seated at the head of the conference table.
Around him were key Intel executives, including Barrett and several board members.
If Marching Ant was truly entering the semiconductor race, Intel needed to prepare. The "ant colony" had already shaken several industries. Wherever it went, chaos followed.
Barrett leaned forward. "Relax, Paul. The chip industry isn't something you just walk into and dominate. But I'm more interested in that seismograph."
A quiet chuckle came from the other end of the table.
"Maybe we should consider it. One EUV isn't a huge deal for us," said Andy, the silver-haired chairman of Intel. "If we can reverse-engineer the seismograph's prediction algorithms, the potential boost in stock and global reputation is immense."
Paul was surprised by the shift in tone.
Wilson, CEO of EA and a newly appointed Intel director, chimed in.
"I agree. EUVs are hard to come by, yes—but we've already got shipments queued. And let's be honest—embargoes are softening. China will have its own EUVs in a few years, like it or not."
His comment made the room go silent.
If Marching Ant cracked earthquake prediction tech and used it to rise as a global giant, they'd be impossible to stop.
Suddenly, a simple equipment swap didn't seem like such a bad idea.
Samsung Group Headquarters – South Korea
In another high-rise boardroom, the air was similarly tense.
Executives sat stiffly as Li Jianxi, the head of Samsung Group, stared at the screen displaying the Marching Ant seismograph.
"This is the same tech that's been causing such a stir," he muttered.
He was fascinated—and deeply interested. The seismograph could elevate Samsung's status beyond just electronics. They were also shareholders of ASML, meaning they had priority access to EUV shipments.
Losing one EUV wouldn't hurt.
And like all good businessmen, he understood:
There are no eternal enemies—only eternal interests.
Marching Ant may be a competitor, but in the global game of tech dominance, cooperation was just another strategy.
They already knew the price: $50 million per seismograph. And if they secured three and resold them to governments desperate for earthquake prediction tools, the return on investment would be immense.
Li Jianxi didn't hesitate.
"Get in touch with Marching Ant," he ordered. "Tell them we're willing to trade—but we want four seismographs."
End of Chapter 162