Chapter 131 Nuclear Attack
Inside an interrogation room at the HYDRA Base in Austria.
A polyhedron-shaped metal object rested on the interrogation table in the center, and a middle-aged Asian man sat nervously before it.
Many researchers in white coats were also in the room, and a camera opposite him, all of which made the middle-aged Asian man even more distraught.
Dr. White, wearing glasses, looked refined and spoke in a tone as if chatting with a friend: "It's beautiful. You excavated it at night. How did you find it? It's a mystery? Tell us."
"We heard the same story as you," the middle-aged Asian man replied.
"Really? We've all been looking for something we don't understand for a long time," White smiled, then pointed at the polyhedron metal object on the table and said, "If you want, you can touch it, please."
A nearby researcher took out a timer, preparing to start timing. Although Dr. White's tone was gentle, the middle-aged Asian man knew he had no room to refuse.
So, he cautiously reached out to the metal object, and the moment his hand touched it, patterns began to appear on its surface.
From the hand that made contact, petrification rapidly spread, then extended to his entire body.
The surrounding HYDRA members watched impassively, meticulously recording every detail of the middle-aged man's contact with the metal object.
"Death is so quick, unrelated to gender, unrelated to race. The pattern still hasn't been found," Dr. White said with a cold expression. "How marvelous, put him with the others, bring in the next experimental subject."
Thus, one by one, experimental subjects died after petrifying upon contact with the metal object, until two soldiers brought in a young woman in a red dress with a beautiful face.
"Don't be afraid, please pick it up, examine it, please," Dr. White said casually.
But when the woman turned and saw the half-severed finger on the ground, she began to resist.
"Please don't do this, don't do this," the woman tried to resist.
"To make discoveries, one must experiment."
The two HYDRA soldiers pressed down on the woman's head, slowly bringing her closer to the metal object. The moment of contact, a flash of patterns crossed the metal object, and fiery red lines emerged within it, but beyond that, it caused no harm to the woman.
The HYDRA soldiers then released the woman, and seeing the flickering red light, the woman unconsciously reached out and picked up the metal object.
"This is amazing. Why are you so special? Let's prepare her for surgery," Dr. White excitedly told the researchers beside him.
Just then, a HYDRA officer rushed into the interrogation room and said to White, "Dr. Reinhardt, Red Skull has fallen, he's dead, the Allies are approaching."
"The World has lost another great man," Dr. White said to everyone in the interrogation room.
He then pointed to the Chinese woman opposite him and said, "Lock her up. We'll unravel this mystery later. To make discoveries, one must experiment, and this experiment requires time."
The woman was dragged out of the interrogation room by two HYDRA soldiers.
Just then, a "boom" of an explosion sounded.
"What's going on? Go out and see!" White immediately shouted to the HYDRA soldiers.
"Dr., we are under attack from an unknown force?" a HYDRA soldier ran in to report.
"Are they not Allied soldiers?"
"From their attire, they are not Allied soldiers."
"Quick, go and block them!"
Half an hour later, the entire castle Ryan and his men had occupied base, and all resisting HYDRA soldiers had been killed.
White and other high-ranking HYDRA members, after disarming, were escorted to the plaza.
Ryan instructed via walkie-talkie: "Begin sweeping the battlefield, find the mission objective. Be careful not to touch the metal object with your hands directly."
"Yes, Instructor."
Upon receiving the order, 10 team members immediately took action, beginning their search for the mission objective.
Ten minutes later, he saw a metal object being carried on a wooden tray by a team member and the only surviving woman in the dungeon.
Ryan said, "Bring a prisoner over."
A HYDRA soldier was brought over.
"Pick up that item," Ryan said, pointing to the item on the tray.
The HYDRA soldier picked up the metal object, then was instantly petrified and lost his life.
Ryan confirmed this was indeed the mission objective. Following George's instructions, he did not touch any other items in this HYDRA castle and waved to his subordinates, saying, "Take them away, leave no HYDRA members alive."
Of course, if that woman could speak English, Ryan wouldn't have needed to reconfirm whether the metal object was the one George had instructed him to find.
"Dada da."
After a burst of machine gun fire in the plaza, Dr. White, loyal to Red Skull, was the first to meet his end.
Several days later, Agent Carter led the Howling Commandos to this castle, and what awaited them was only deadly silence.
Some decaying corpses emitted a foul odor, and the only consolation was that the Howling Commandos had seized a large amount of supplies within the Base and discovered a half-section of an unusual corpse in the laboratory.
After Carter saw this item, she designated it as Item 084.
Meanwhile, in a castle in Austria.
Jia Ying sat curled in a corner, her arms tightly wrapped around her knees, her eyes distant and blank. She didn't even react when George opened the bedroom door and stepped in.
George didn't speak right away. He pulled a chair over by the door and sat down at a distance. His tone remained calm, low. "Don't be afraid. You're safe now. Everyone who hurt you is dead."
Jia Ying didn't answer, but her head lifted slightly. She blinked. She had understood him.
"You speak Chinese?" she asked quietly.
"Yes. Mandarin," George said. "And my name is George Orwell Swent, but George is fine."
"I'm Jia Ying… You're not one of them?"
"The people who took you were Nazis. We're not like them. My people killed them all."
Tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. "Thank you," she said, her voice trembling. "I didn't think I'd get out of there alive."
George nodded. "I don't expect you to feel okay. No one should go through what you did. If there's anyone left, anyone from your village, I'll help you find them."
That made her break, her voice cracked as tears spilled from her eyes, "They're all gone. My family, along with the others, were just farmers. They came in trucks. They took us like animals. No one came back."
George didn't interrupt. He listened, then finally said, "You survived. That matters. You don't owe anyone strength today."
He waved once toward the hallway. A guard brought in a small table with porridge, bread, and some fruit.
George didn't make light of the moment. "Eat slowly, there's no rush."
Jia Ying nodded, barely. She sat and began to eat, her hands unsteady. George said nothing more until she finished.
"I know you've been through hell," he said after a pause. "If you don't want to talk now, you don't have to. But when you're ready, we'll figure out what comes next."
Her voice was barely audible. "I have nowhere to go."
"Then stay here until you do."
She looked at him with disbelief. "You'd let me?"
"I already did."
The next morning, Jia Ying appeared in a plain maid uniform, bringing George breakfast. He noticed her posture, formal and overly respectful.
"You don't need to do that," George said, shaking his head a little after sipping his coffee.
"But I want to repay in any way I can, I can't just sit and do nothing," Jia Ying replied.
"I didn't save you to slave away for me." He gestured to the table. "Sit, eat with me, then we'll talk after."
In the castle garden.
"Jia Ying," George said as they walked, "I'll ask once again if you want to return to China, I'll make arrangements."
She stopped. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, but you see this isn't a prison, and you are not a prisoner. You should know you have a choice."
"I choose to stay."
He nodded. "Then you're mine to protect. I plan to train someone to help manage my company. In time, that will be you. Just like Bucky is being trained to succeed Ryan, you will one day succeed Paul."
Her eyes widened. "I… I'm not educated. I don't know business."
"You'll learn. You've already changed. That Obelisk gave you more than longevity; it strengthened your mind, your focus. You'll have help. Paul, the others, they'll guide you. You bring new energy. We'll make sure it's shaped right."
George didn't mention it, but he knew her Inhuman physiology wouldn't just grant a long life; it would also evolve her intellect, sharpen her perception, and enhance her memory.
A successor with time to grow into mastery, something rare in an age of mortality. Like Bucky was being raised to inherit the field under Ryan, Jia Ying was being shaped into the stabilizer at Paul's side.
That afternoon, Jia Ying's lessons began. Not just books and meetings, but real exposure.
Shadowing Paul in every meeting, learning logistics, negotiation, and discipline. She was to be forged, not simply appointed.
Paul knew this wasn't a symbolic handover. She was being prepped to handle the quiet wars of boardrooms, the soft violence of finance and diplomacy.
George returned to the U.S., quietly leaving instructions. She would one day know the truth of her identity and be equipped to survive in his world: a stabilizer, not just a figurehead.
Paul's office.
"Paul, has the Manhattan Project succeeded?" George asked, cigar between his fingers.
"Yes, Boss."
"Make the announcement. Say it's revenge for Pearl Harbor. Drop the bomb, but not directly on any city. Let the world feel the pressure without dragging innocent men & women, pregnant mothers and soon-to-be fathers, young couples, and childrens into it."
Paul hesitated. "You're softening?"
George exhaled. "I'm being precise. Fanatics, we can punish. but not those who didn't have any control."
'I've read memoirs. I've seen what fire does to children. I've watched films, documentaries, and even that animated one. I don't want to create another 'Grave of the Fireflies.' Not if I can help it.'
"Understood, Boss."
August 6, 1945. A nuclear blast lit up the mountains outside Hiroshima. The aftershocks rattled the city's windows. Every citizen knew what had happened.
A second bomb dropped near Nagasaki, again, close enough to send a message, but not obliterate the city.
Then one outside Tokyo, far enough to avoid Chiyoda, close enough to shatter glass in the Imperial courts.
Still, dissent stirred in dark rooms. Propaganda. Resistance. Talk of retaliation. So, George's other hand, the Iron Order of Orwell, moved, not as soldiers, but as silencers.
A fourth detonation occurred near Niigata. Not a city, but a symbol. Close enough to be seen from rooftops. That ended it.
Japan surrendered unconditionally! As World War II drew to a close, the world began to recover from the war's devastating wounds slowly.
But in the shadows of peace, more profound transformations were already unfolding.
In 1946, Mr. Paul Walker, the long-time General Manager of the globally dominant PL Holding Company, officially stepped down.
In his place, a new figure emerged, Jia Ying, a Chinese woman with an unusual background, marked by trauma and loss, but now imbued with extraordinary strength and longevity after exposure to the Obelisk.
The announcement was met with quiet skepticism in certain elite circles.
Jia Ying had no formal academic pedigree, no Wall Street resume, and no long history of boardroom maneuvering. S
he had grown up in the countryside, endured the horrors of HYDRA captivity, and witnessed the obliteration of her village. To many, she was an unlikely candidate.
But to George Orwell Swent, this very unlikeliness was her strength. She was unshackled from the old world.
No political baggage, no Wall Street allegiances, no colonial debt.
What she had now was clarity, an iron will, a body that would not age like ordinary humans, and a mind rapidly evolving.
Inhuman biology had activated previously untapped regions of her brain, granting her enhanced memory retention, emotional composure, and resilience far beyond that of even the most trained executives.
If Bucky was George's successor to carry out military operations in Ryan's stead, then Jia Ying was Paul's heir in every strategic sense.
While Paul had managed the empire's rise for over two decades, George understood that longevity mattered now more than ever.
He didn't need a brilliant economist for five years; he required a strategist for the next hundred.
Jia Ying's onboarding was not a ceremonial event. George personally arranged for her education under Paul's supervision.
Every day was a lesson in business operations, corporate governance, political diplomacy, and economic intelligence.
Paul did not retire outright; he remained as Chief Senior Advisor, operating behind the scenes as Jia Ying's mentor.
Under her direction, the first act of leadership was the formal integration of all industrial arms under one operational banner, temporarily named the "Star Group," pending rebranding.
Her second move was to purge the bureaucracy.
Executives with bloated salaries and overlapping duties were dismissed. Those who had tried to profit from Roosevelt's death by pushing internal coups were blacklisted.
Third came the industrial recovery initiative: melted tanks, ruined warships, and scrap planes were all reclaimed. Jia Ying saw war debris not as junk but as raw capital.
She issued purchase orders to acquire decommissioned naval vessels from the U.S. War Assets Administration and had them converted into a transcontinental logistics fleet.
Thus was born the Star Transport Company, quietly, but rapidly, becoming the most feared and efficient logistics force in the world.
However, stability was not only built with steel and ships, but it was also enforced through silence. Dozens of dismissed executives died mysteriously in accidents.
Whole families vanished in the night. Intelligence organizations that once spied on PL Holdings found their field agents wiped out.
Even mid-level U.S. officials who had tried to interfere disappeared from the public record.
The message was clear. This was no longer a Western-led empire; it was Orwell's world now, guided by quiet discipline and unbreakable loyalty.
Despite the consolidation, George refrained from brute force. He could have monopolized entire industries, using Blackshield or the Iron Order to steamroll resistance.
But instead, he allowed competition to breathe. He understood the nuances of stability. Rapid control breeds rebellion. Slow, inevitable dominance wins loyalty.
Then came the matter of the bombs.
In public record, four atomic bombs were dropped: Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Kokura, and Tokyo's Chiyoda Ward. But the truth was more complicated.
George had been aware of the Manhattan Project's timeline. When Paul reported its completion, George didn't blindly follow vengeance.
He considered the fanatics of Imperial Japan, some even more brutal than Nazi officers, but he also thought of the civilians: the women, the men, the children, the unborn.
He had watched the black-and-white footage. He had read the memoirs of field nurses who found melted skin and burning screams in the ruins.
He had watched documentaries, some recent, some banned. Ghibli films like Grave of the Fireflies had left a permanent imprint.
So George made a choice.
He intervened.
The bombs were still dropped. But not over the cities. Not directly.
Little Boy exploded over a coastal island near Hiroshima, enough to shake the city, to make the aftermath visible, but sparing the urban center.
Fat Man landed near Nagasaki, in an uninhabited bay. Again, the heatwave reached the city's edge. Survivors wept, but there were survivors.
The third bomb, Gadget, was dropped outside Kokura's shipping yard, vaporizing its military stockpiles but missing civilian blocks by a full kilometer.
Tokyo was spared. The mysterious fourth pilot, said to have gone rogue, was a Blackshield soldier acting on George's silent directive.
The bomb named "Big Fat Man" was never meant to erase a city. It detonated over the sea, close enough for Tokyo to see the heavens split open, but far enough that even the slums were untouched.
The message to the Japanese cabinet was absolute: surrender, or next time, there will be no mercy.
They surrendered within hours.
Some voices still rose. Fanatics in the military called for resistance. Propaganda stations denounced America. And so George authorized one more message.
The Iron Order, Orwell's silent enforcers, eliminated key propagandists overnight. Radio stations were burned. Generals vanished. By morning, even the most radical officers knew that the gods had arrived.
Peace settled in, not by treaties, but by fear. But behind it, George's mercy stood.
And now, as the world began to rebuild, so too did Orwell's empire. Jia Ying led the rebirth not as a Chinese symbol, but as a human one, scarred, transformed, and determined.
A new era had begun. Not for one nation. Not for one ideology.
But for Orwell's world.
And she would help shape it for the next hundred years and beyond.
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