46: Chapter 46 Is the US sending an aircraft carrier to scare us?

The sea breeze suddenly turned violent, mixed with the smell of burnt kerosene from engines, slapping fiercely against the deck.

"BOOM—!!!"

Two F-35C fighters swept past, almost brushing against the yacht's mast. The massive sonic boom felt like a heavy hammer striking the chest, making one's heart stop momentarily.

The white shockwaves plowed two deep furrows into the sea surface, and the resulting spray instantly soaked the flashy beach shirt Jiang Chen was wearing.

Even the half-finished iced coconut drink by his side jumped from the vibration, spilling all over the table.

"Damn it."

Jiang Chen frowned, pulled a tissue to wipe the sugary water off his hands, looking thoroughly annoyed. "Is flying a plane such a big deal? Flying this low, just to show off you have a license?"

He looked up, squinting at the sky.

The two fighters didn't fly away but circled overhead like two vultures that had caught the scent of carrion, occasionally performing provocative rolls, acting extremely arrogant.

And further away, at the edge of the horizon, a moving mountain of steel was slowly approaching.

That was the USS Freedom, the American nuclear-powered aircraft carrier.

Its hundred-thousand-ton displacement allowed it to travel across the sea as if on flat ground. The massive deck was packed with various types of fighter jets; radar antennas rotated, and gun barrels hung low.

That overwhelming sense of oppression was enough to make any ordinary person feel suffocating despair.

In comparison, the multi-million dollar luxury yacht under Jiang Chen's feet was like a leaf floating beside a giant whale, as if a mere sneeze from the other side could capsize it.

"Commander! Get into the cabin quickly!"

Zhao Gang's face was livid, his body taut like a drawn bow.

He lunged forward, shielding Jiang Chen with his body, his Type 95 rifle already off-safety, staring fixedly at the fighters in the sky. Although he knew his rifle was nothing more than a toy against a fighter jet, it was an instinctive posture.

"They're in combat formation! Their fire-control radar has locked onto us!"

Zhao Gang's voice sounded somewhat hoarse amidst the deafening roar. "This is a red-line provocation! Commander, we must evacuate immediately! I've already contacted the East Sea Fleet; reinforcements will arrive in ten minutes!"

"Evacuate? Where to?"

Jiang Chen pushed Zhao Gang aside, and instead of hiding, he swaggered to the very front of the deck.

The sea breeze whipped his shirt, making it snap loudly.

"This is our doorstep; they are the ones who should get lost."

Jiang Chen sneered and pulled that pitch-black, oddly-shaped "fishing rod" out of the storage box.

The thing was heavy, its texture ice-cold to the touch. There was no fishing reel on the rod; instead, there was a fist-sized "Gravitational Wave Generator" emitting a faint blue light, engraved with complex Wasteland runes.

"Zhao Gang, put the gun away."

Jiang Chen skillfully adjusted the generator's parameters, just like an old fisherman preparing to bait a spot. "That thing is useless against planes, and it might accidentally misfire and hurt the flowers and grass. Watch closely, I'll teach you a new tactic today."

Zhao Gang looked at the iron rod in his commander's hand that looked like a fishing rod but wasn't, completely bewildered.

"Com... Commander, what are you doing?"

"Fishing, obviously."

Jiang Chen said matter-of-factly, "With such a big sea and such good weather, wouldn't it be a shame not to catch a big fish to take back?"

"Fish... fishing?"

Zhao Gang looked at the roaring fighters in the sky, then at the approaching aircraft carrier in the distance, feeling as if his brain couldn't keep up.

Fishing at a time like this?

Are you worried that dying won't be ceremonial enough?

Just then.

A burst of harsh static suddenly came over the yacht's public radio channel, followed by an English male voice filled with arrogance and mockery:

"This is the American Navy 'USS Freedom' carrier strike group."

"Dragon Country yacht ahead, you have entered our exercise area. For your own safety, leave immediately! Repeat, leave immediately! Otherwise, we will take forced expulsion measures!"

It was called a "request," but was there any politeness in that tone?

This was clearly a bully charging down the street, pointing at a passerby's nose and cursing: "Get lost, don't block my way!"

Jiang Chen walked to the helm, picked up the walkie-talkie, and pressed the talk button.

He cleared his throat and retorted in fluent and standard Chinese:

"This is the private yacht of Dragon Country citizen Jiang Chen."

"I am conducting legal sea fishing activities. Your ship is too big; it's blocking my fishing route. I'll give you three minutes to move that big iron hunk away; don't scare off my fish."

The other end of the radio was silent for a full five seconds.

Immediately after, an unrestrained burst of wild laughter erupted.

"Hahaha! What is he saying? He says we're scaring his fish?"

In the carrier's command center, Captain Miller was chewing on a cigar, laughing until tears were almost coming out. He looked at the insignificant little red dot on the radar screen, his eyes filled with the cruelty of a cat playing with a mouse.

"These Dragon Country people, are their brains broken?"

Captain Miller grabbed the microphone, his tone filled with extreme mockery. "Mr. Jiang, is it? I heard you Dragon Country people all know kung fu? What, are you planning to use the fishing rod in your hand to fish away our aircraft carrier?"

"Hahahaha!"

The channel was filled with the jeering laughter of the American sailors.

"That's not impossible."

Jiang Chen's voice remained calm, even carrying a hint of seriousness. "As long as you dare to take the bait, I dare to fish. I'm just afraid your ship isn't of good quality and will fall apart as soon as I hook it."

"Arrogant!"

Captain Miller's face darkened. He was enraged; a yellow-skinned monkey driving a yacht dared to provoke the naval majesty of the great American Empire?

"Full speed ahead!"

Miller spat out his cigar fiercely, a fierce glint in his eyes. "Ram into it! Capsize that piece-of-junk yacht! Let him go feed the fish in the ocean!"

"Vroom—"

The aircraft carrier in the distance began to accelerate, its bow cleaving through the giant waves, surging straight toward Jiang Chen's yacht with the momentum to crush everything in its path.

A massive shadow gradually covered the sea surface.

Zhao Gang's palms were full of sweat. He stared fixedly at the mountain of steel pressing down on them. Although he knew it was like an egg hitting a rock, he was ready for a desperate fight to the death.

However, Jiang Chen smiled.

"Anxious? Good, being anxious is good."

He slowly took his phone out of his pocket and opened his live-streaming account, which had tens of millions of followers.

He had already thought of the title: [Outdoor Sea Catching: Since there are no fish, I'll just make do by fishing for an aircraft carrier].

"Start stream!"

As the signal connected, hundreds of thousands of netizens waiting to watch the drama flooded into the previously dark live-streaming room.

On the screen appeared Jiang Chen's handsome yet slightly roguish face, with the backdrop of the rough, surging sea and the demon-like aircraft carrier approaching in the distance.

"Hello, everyone, good afternoon!"

Jiang Chen waved at the camera, his smile as bright as if he were on vacation in Hawaii. "Today, I originally wanted to perform some lure fishing for tuna for you all."

"But, there's a big guy with no eyes that insists on coming into my fishing spot to cause trouble."

He turned to the side, pointing the camera at the "USS Freedom" aircraft carrier charging at full speed, his tone as relaxed as if he were introducing a stray dog on the side of the road:

"See that? That's the iron hunk puffing black smoke."

"Since it wants to be on camera so much, let's change the program for today."

Jiang Chen placed his phone on a stand, then gripped the pitch-black "Gravitational Traction Capture Device" with both hands, striking a professional casting pose.

His eyes instantly became sharp, and the domineering aura belonging to the "Wasteland Father God" was fully revealed at this moment.

"Guys, watch closely!"

"Today I'm not fishing; I'm going to perform a special trick for you all—"

"Single person, single rod, forcibly fishing for an aircraft carrier!"