That night, at midnight.
Zhang Yuan tossed and turned in bed. The internal chaos was essentially resolved, yet, for some reason, he was still in a state of insomnia.
Compared to the grand terror brought about by the aliens, the minor troubles of the civilians in the rear were in fact trivial, merely to remind the higher-ups that the public is blind and shortsighted and that it's necessary to improve overall quality and so on. Of course, that simple patriotic enthusiasm also deeply moved those in the higher echelons.
The most pressing matter now was to urgently produce a few small electromagnetic guns that could intercept nuclear bombs. If their speed could exceed one hundred kilometers per second, then the interception success rate would be quite high.
