A single cannon shot captured the attention of the entire Federation.

With all participating fleets arriving at their designated locations, the joint military exercise officially began.

Whether by coincidence or design, the participating nations were split into two opposing camps—and notably, the Federation and Gephra were not on the same side.

Some called it a coincidence. Others didn’t. But regardless, everyone more or less understood the deeper implications—including the homeless on the streets.

Televisions in shop windows ran 24/7, and every radio station was broadcasting content related to the joint exercise.

Even the Federation’s three major stock exchanges saw a brief pause in trading when the first shot was fired—there was a literal moment of zero trading volume.

Lynch was watching the exercise as well, joined by Mr. Truman, some members of the navy and army, all gathered at Truman’s home.

The President, in a show of dedication to national defense, chose to view the exercise from the Ministry of Defense, alongside civilian generals and a live commentator.

Truman had no need to be there, so he invited some military personnel to his home under the pretense of experiencing a large-screen TV. As the sponsor of the TV, Lynch was naturally present too.

Everyone was focused on the ever-shifting footage on screen when Lynch suddenly asked, zWhat happens if someone fires at a non-target ship?”

Worried he hadn’t been clear, he clarified, “For example, during the confrontation, what if one of the opposing side’s exercise ships accidentally fires on ours? What then?”

“Would that start a war?”

“And would alliances be drawn based on the current camp divisions?”

All eyes immediately turned from the television to Lynch.

The military officers were caught off guard. Even Truman seemed momentarily stunned—it was a question none of them had considered.

After all, this was a multinational exercise. Live ammunition or not, the kind of scenario Lynch suggested seemed extremely unlikely.

While both sides were indeed engaging in simulated combat, potential friendly fire incidents had been considered during planning. Target ships and exercise ships were located in entirely different zones. Even with terrible aim, it was nearly impossible to hit the wrong target.

Truman snapped back to focus. After exchanging glances with a few military personnel, he responded to Lynch, “That’s highly unlikely. The whole exercise is scripted. We’re just following a pre-agreed scenario.”

“The real exercise began three days ago, but it didn’t attract much attention back then. It involved long-range sailing and rapid battlefield entry. What we’re seeing now is a small-scale encounter.”

“The two sides don’t even come into direct contact. They’re separated in different sea zones and each attacks their own targets.”

“What we’re seeing is more of a visual illusion than actual confrontation. So, what you’re describing just won’t happen.”

“Next up are battlefield support and amphibious landings, followed by a final confrontation.”

Truman’s explanation eased some of Lynch’s concerns. He exhaled slightly. “That’s good to hear. After all, we only have one fleet…”

The others in the room didn’t look so reassured. Truman furrowed his brow, thought for a moment, and stepped into his study to make a phone call.

At that moment, the President was also watching the exercise, surrounded by influential figures from all walks of life and numerous defense officials.

Commentators had been arranged to explain the details of the exercise. Journalists were present as well, occasionally broadcasting the scene live on television.

The colonel’s loud explanations were easily heard throughout the room, and judging by the smiles on everyone’s faces, morale was high.

From the start, the Federation had performed impressively—not just propaganda. Their ships showed solid performance metrics. In both long-range travel and battlefield insertion, they ranked among the top three.

They didn’t claim the top spot not because of their equipment, but because of the lack of experience among their sailors and commanding officers, most of whom had never been in large-scale naval battles.

Some believed simulations could improve command skills—but that was overly optimistic.

In a simulation, a hit always hits. In real combat, that’s far from guaranteed.

Battlefield entry isn’t just about pushing toy ships around. Timing and angle of entry are critical, and the Federation had lost some points there.

Still, no one expected a perfect score. An average one would suffice.

After all, the point was to participate, right?

At that moment, someone approached the President and whispered something into his ear.

Looking surprised, the President excused himself and signaled a navy admiral to join him. The two entered a smaller room.

There was a phone on the table. The President picked it up and said, “I’m with the Admiral. I’ll switch to speaker.”

He put the receiver down and pressed a button. Truman’s voice came through the speaker for everyone to hear.

“Mr. President, Admiral. This is Truman. We were just watching the exercise. During it, Mr. Lynch posed a hypothetical—what if there’s a friendly fire incident?”

The unnamed admiral immediately dismissed the idea. “No, that’s very unlikely. The opposing forces are in separate sea zones and can’t see each other. They can’t hit us, and we won’t hit them.”

“But unlikely means it’s still possible, doesn’t it?” Truman’s voice, through the speaker, sounded oddly distorted, but the room grew tense.

The admiral hesitated slightly, then conceded. “Yes, technically it’s possible—but about as likely as being struck by a falling pie from the sky.”

The President chuckled lightly, seemingly finding Truman’s concern excessive. “That shouldn’t be something we need to worry about, Truman. I trust they’ll handle it well.”

But Truman pressed on. “We have only one fleet. Our new ships are still under construction. If something accidental happens and our fleet is hit, the blow to national defense would be catastrophic!”

The President, initially relaxed, suddenly grasped the seriousness. Deep down, they were still afraid.

The war with Gephra had pushed them to the brink—they hadn’t gone in expecting to win, not even after deploying submarines.

At the time, the Defense Ministry had ordered that even a ramming attack should cause lethal damage to Gephra’s fleet.

If the submarines hadn’t succeeded, it likely would’ve been the Federation’s navy that was wiped out.

They had shattered Gephra’s title of invincible and destroyed an entire fleet—this kind of hatred couldn’t be resolved with a few words or political compromises.

Just like the coincidence in this exercise—Gephra and the Federation were placed in opposing camps.

If Gephra suddenly used a mistaken identification to attack the Federation fleet, they could deal a devastating blow in an instant, catching them completely off guard.

Gephra may have lost one fleet, but they still had other main forces and could continue to dominate the Western Ocean.

If the Federation lost this fleet, they’d be left with only training ships.

If shamelessness could allow a nation to rise again while forcing a newly powerful one into decline, the President suddenly realized—if he were the Emperor of Gephra, he might do the same.

The smile disappeared from the President’s face. “You have something in mind, Truman. You wouldn’t make this call just to tell us our fleet might be in danger, right?”

“Yes, Mr. President. I’m asking you to authorize the front-line commander to enter a Level Two war state immediately. If we are fired upon, we must retaliate instantly, without waiting for orders.”

The President looked at the admiral, who gave a slight nod of agreement.

“Understood. Your suggestion is important. I’ll contact the front-line commander at once.”

After hanging up, the President asked the admiral, “If what Truman fears does happen, can our current ships and personnel uphold the Federation’s national defense?”

“And how long until our new fleet is operational?”

The admiral shook his head. “All we have left are outdated training ships from over twenty years ago. They’re of little value.”

“If we’re invaded now, we’ll completely lose the initiative. Our coastal front would be overwhelmed by enemy fire.”

“Our new warships might be destroyed before they even touch the water, Mr. President.”

Hearing this, the President picked up the phone without hesitation. “Connect me to the Joint Exercise Operations Command…”