As the calendar turned and the new year arrived, the global situation grew increasingly turbulent. One black swan event followed another, piling atop the world like rolling thunderclouds. Even those indifferent to international affairs could sense it—this would not be an ordinary year.
Wars flared. Assassinations surfaced. Commodity prices surged. Financial markets convulsed.
To most ordinary people, these were little more than after-dinner talking points, fragments of distant chaos that had nothing to do with daily life. But to those with sharper instincts, a clear underlying logic gradually emerged.
All of it—large or small—pointed toward the same core reality.
A struggle over dwindling resources.
Over the past two years, the global economy had not merely slowed; it had stagnated, even regressed. Traditional developed economies slipped one after another into severe trade deficits, including the so-called Eagle Country across the ocean. With a few exceptions—resource-rich nations and the domestic market—chaos reigned almost everywhere.
Even domestically, in what was once considered a relatively closed and stable environment, the pressure was unmistakable. Money was harder to earn. Prices climbed relentlessly. Jobs vanished. Newly posted positions were swarmed by applicants in hours. The word involution became a constant presence on trending searches.
Positions within the system were even worse—competition bordering on frenzy.
And still, companies collapsed.
The real estate industry, once the backbone of the national economy, became a graveyard. Industry tycoons who had once reaped unimaginable profits suddenly found themselves unable to service enormous debts. Of course, the debt belonged to the company, not the individual. Dividends were still paid. Limited liability, after all—those who understood, understood.
Their creditors, on the other hand, lost sleep. They called incessantly, terrified that the debtor might disappear overnight. With sums that large, a single collapse could trigger a financial tsunami.
That was how one infamous declaration was born:
If you want the money back, give me another three hundred billion.
A line worthy of Cao Cao himself—controlling the emperor to command the lords.
In truth, every nation was now walking on a knife's edge. If the world's resources were a cake, then under economic regression, that cake would not grow larger. It might even shrink. Meanwhile, the global population continued to rise.
The result was inevitable.
Competition would intensify. And to seize a larger share, some would abandon all restraint.
In Zhucheng City's commercial center, a seventy-two-story skyscraper quietly changed its name.
Few noticed.
Two months earlier, the building had entered renovation. Only when the black curtain was removed did passersby finally see the gilded characters gleaming across the glass façade:
Tiangong Group.
On the top floor—completely sealed off from the outside world—Bai Yue sat cross-legged on the metallic floor.
The entire level had been stripped open. Pillars, ceiling, and ground were all reconstructed from silver-white alloys, giving the vast space an unmistakable futuristic aesthetic.
Da. Da. Da.
The crisp sound of high heels echoed as a tall, middle-aged woman in professional attire approached from the elevator.
"Boss," she greeted respectfully.
Bai Yue opened his eyes.
Depthless pupils reflected faint metallic light, as though entire universes were concealed within them.
"What is it?" he asked calmly.
A full year had passed since the projection arrived.
After establishing sufficient means of self-preservation, Bai Yue used the initial capital obtained from selling gold to found Tiangong Group. The goal was simple: conceal the origin of his wealth and create a framework for gathering information on a global scale.
To outsiders, building a group corporation and acquiring a seventy-story tower in under a year bordered on fantasy.
For Bai Yue, it was merely efficiency.
Though this projection could only exchange information with the main body and could not transfer matter or energy, that alone was more than enough. Using material formulas from the Devouring Starry Sky Universe and creation-based manufacturing equipment, Tiangong Technology exploded into prominence within the materials science field.
Its products were too good.
Sales channels opened effortlessly. Expansion followed at a speed that left observers stunned. Upstream mining, downstream precision processing, vertical integration—by the time people reacted, Tiangong Group had already taken shape.
Naturally, such a sudden rise in G Province—a well-known "technology desert"—attracted attention.
That attention vanished after Bai Yue attended an entrepreneur conference hosted by the provincial government.
With a few subtle illusionary techniques and carefully crafted interactions, Bai Yue built deep relationships with officials and business leaders alike. Talents, channels, policy support—doors opened one after another.
Even this building had been introduced by the richest man in the province, who felt Bai Yue lacked a suitable headquarters. Unable to refuse the goodwill, Bai Yue purchased it at a fair price under the group's name.
"Boss," the woman began briskly, "materials sales reached 7.3 billion in the first two months of the year. We're confident of surpassing ten billion for the first quarter."
She was Huang Yuanmei, president of Tiangong Group—one of the elite talents recommended through Bai Yue's connections.
"Mining operations have accelerated after equipment upgrades. Several ore-refining plants are fully operational. Precision processing factories are completing final preparations."
She paused briefly before adding, "There's also major external news."
"Go on."
"The conflict between Bear One and Bear Two has intensified. External forces are supplying Bear Two—some even sending mercenaries."
"And business-wise," she continued, eyes sharpening, "Qingshan Company is under siege."
Bai Yue's gaze shifted slightly.
"Nickel."
"Yes. After the previous price collapse, Qingshan shorted 200,000 tons on the London futures market to hedge risk. Western capital saw blood."
Huang Yuanmei's tone hardened.
"They drove prices up—2.5 times in an hour at peak frenzy. Qingshan can't deliver that volume physically. At current prices, losses would exceed tens of billions of dollars."
"They can't afford that," Bai Yue said flatly.
"They can't," she confirmed. "And if they fall, control of the entire industry is lost."
Bai Yue looked at her. "So—you have a plan."
"Yes."
Among the ore veins Bai Yue had discovered this year, one nickel deposit alone held staggering reserves. With Tiangong's refining technology, 200,000 tons of electrolytic nickel was not only possible—it was trivial.
"Boss," Huang Yuanmei said decisively, "this is our chance. Acquire Qingshan, step onto the global stage."
Bai Yue nodded.
"Proceed. Han Jun will support you."
Her heels clicked sharply as she departed.
Left alone, Bai Yue gazed out over the city.
"After this," he murmured, "Tiangong Group won't stay unknown any longer."
And indeed, as the London nickel war continued to ferment, the world's attention soon turned.