Chapter 99 Majesty

"Yes, Captain."

Li Na answered extremely quickly.

No salute, no unnecessary chatter.

Only those fair, slender hands traced a blur across the dark blue holographic interface.

Fingertips touched the virtual keyboard.

Click.

The crisp feedback sound echoed in the deathly silent bridge.

"Close-in defense system activated."

"Fire control radar locked."

"Threat elimination program, executing."

Her tone was flat; every syllable was like the meshing of precision-calculated mechanical gears, stripping away all emotional impurities of "nervousness" or "fear."

It was as if she were not facing a heavy anti-aircraft missile capable of blowing up half a city block, but rather a junk file on a computer screen about to be deleted.

...

Ten thousand meters in the sky.

The once seamless belly armor of the luan bird suddenly rippled like water.

Click—clack.

Dozens of hexagonal, high-strength composite armor plates slid silently outward, exposing the deep, dark mechanical structure inside.

It was a dense, honeycomb-like crystal matrix.

Point defense laser array.

No warm-up whatsoever.

Not even any visible charging light effects.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Dozens of dark blue beams instantly pierced the firmament.

They were too fast.

So fast that the retinas couldn't even capture their trajectories; one only felt a few shrill blue lines flash before the eyes.

That was the speed of light.

In this universe, no matter can escape the pursuit of light.

That "Standard-6" missile, carrying the last dignity of the US Navy, hadn't even finished one-third of its heroic trajectory.

The blue light swept across.

There was no explosion sound.

Nor any brilliant fireball.

Under the focus of the high-energy laser at several thousand degrees, the missile's hardest titanium alloy warhead instantly liquefied, vaporized, and turned into plasma.

Followed by the warhead filled with high explosives, the precision radar seeker, and the solid rocket motor spewing flames from the tail.

All material structures disintegrated within microseconds.

They were stripped into molecules, reduced to atoms, and finally dissipated completely into the thin stratospheric atmosphere.

As if they had never existed.

The sky remained azure.

Except for those few lingering blue afterimages, proving that an "engagement" worthy of being recorded in history had just taken place here.

...

The aircraft carrier "Ford."

Inside the CIC Command Center, a deathly silence pressed so hard it made one's eardrums ache.

Dozens of eyes were glued to the radar scan on the big screen.

That red dot, representing "revenge" and "dignity," was rushing toward the target at a high speed of Mach 4.

Closer.

Even closer.

The Five-Star General gripped the edge of the command console tightly, his knuckles turning white from excessive force.

He was waiting.

Waiting for that red dot to overlap with that damn huge target.

Waiting for that explosion.

Waiting for that arrogant Daxia warship to fall.

Beep.

A soft sound.

The red dot disappeared.

Without any warning.

As if it had been casually erased from the screen by an invisible eraser.

The Five-Star General's pupils suddenly contracted to the size of pinpricks.

"What is going on?!"

He roared, his voice becoming sharp and distorted from extreme terror, "Where is the missile?! Where is our missile?! Why is there no hit indicated on the radar?"

The air defense weapons operator slumped in his chair, his hands trembling as he typed frantically on the keyboard, trying to retrieve telemetry data.

"Re... report, General..."

The young operator's face was as pale as paper, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose onto the keyboard.

"Signal lost... telemetry data interrupted... it... it's gone."

"Gone?!"

The Five-Star General grabbed the operator by the collar, spraying spit all over his face, "A six-meter-long missile! A six-hundred-kilogram warhead! You're telling me it just vanished into thin air?! Did it go to meet God?!"

"Sir... look at this."

The intelligence officer, who had been silent beside him, pointed a trembling finger at the optical reconnaissance screen nearby.

That was the footage captured by a high-speed camera deployed on a frigate.

Although the image was a bit blurry, that moment could still be clearly seen.

A few blue beams.

Flashed by.

Immediately after, that missile, which was climbing at high speed, just... melted.

Disappeared.

Not even a fragment the size of a fingernail was left.

The Five-Star General let go of the operator's collar, his whole body seeming as if his spine had been removed, stumbling back two steps and falling heavily onto the cold alloy floor.

So, that was their defense system.

It didn't even need physical ammunition.

No need to calculate lead time.

No need to consider interception probability.

As long as it sees you.

You're gone.

This was the true "Divine Punishment."

"Heh heh..."

A dry laugh came from the Five-Star General's throat, uglier than crying.

He raised his head, looking through the bulletproof glass at the sky above, which was obscured by a huge shadow.

That was power from a completely different dimension.

Just like a primitive man holding a stone axe, roaring at a main battle tank that was firing.

How is this a war?

This is clearly a massacre.

A one-sided, crushing, suspense-free cleanup.

And they.

This joint fleet, known as the strongest on Blue Star.

Were nothing but a flock of lambs waiting to be slaughtered.

...

"luan bird one," bridge.

Lin Yuan sat on the large captain's chair, yawning somewhat boredly.

On the main screen, that massive fleet had already turned into a mess.

Some ships were trying to turn and flee, some were still blindly rotating their radar, and more were spinning around on the sea like a swarm of headless flies.

Even from so far away, Lin Yuan seemed to be able to smell the sour stench rising from the sea, known as "despair."

Is this it?

Lin Yuan shook his head.

Disappointed.

Too disappointed.

He had put so much effort into it—upgrading equipment, playing psychological warfare, and even specially putting on this handsome captain's uniform.

And the opponent is just like this, just like this?

They didn't even qualify for him to warm up the main guns.

That feeling was like a master who had practiced peerless martial arts for ten years and finally came down the mountain to uphold justice.

But as soon as he drew his sword, the thugs on the opposite side were already kneeling on the ground, kowtowing and calling him Grandpa.

Boring.

Utterly boring.

"Captain."

Li Na walked over, her voice breaking Lin Yuan's grumbling, "The ultimatum time has passed. Since they refused to surrender and fired first, according to the rules of engagement, we have the right to conduct a destructive strike."

Her eyes were frighteningly bright.

"Main guns charged and ready; we can fire at any time."

"Do you want to send them all to the bottom of the sea?"

Destroying this fleet not only meant that Daxia had completely taken control of the sea, but also meant that the maritime hegemony system established by the West for a century had completely collapsed.

This temptation was indeed great.

Lin Yuan's fingers tapped lightly on the armrest.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He was thinking.

Sink them?

Too simple.

As long as he flicked his finger and the main guns fired, this sea area would become a metal junkyard in a few seconds.

But that would be letting them off too easy.

Dead people don't feel fear.

Only those who are alive, only those who have witnessed the miracle with their own eyes and are tortured by nightmares day and night for the rest of their lives, will truly understand what awe is.

What Daxia wants is not just a victory.

But a posture that makes the whole world have to bow its head.

"No."

Lin Yuan stopped tapping, a playful arc curling at the corner of his mouth.

In that smile, there was 30% teasing and 70% cruelty.

"What a waste to sink them; this is all scrap iron built with tens of billions of dollars. Keeping it to sell as scrap could still be worth a lot of money."

He turned his head and looked at Old Zhang, who was standing in front of the weapons console.

"Old Zhang."

"Here!"

The middle-aged man with a full beard stood at attention immediately, his eyes fanatical.

"That 'Gravity Hand' of ours, didn't you say the testing was finished before?"

Lin Yuan pointed at the screen.

"Since our American friends are so enthusiastic and sent us a missile as a greeting gift."

"We in Daxia are a land of etiquette, emphasizing reciprocity."

"We have to return the favor, don't we?"

Old Zhang was stunned for a moment, then realized, and a smile like a blooming chrysanthemum instantly appeared on his rough face.

"Report, Captain! The 'Gravity Beam Tractor System' is in perfect working condition! Ready to operate at any time!"

"Maximum traction load is 200,000 tons! Let alone an aircraft carrier, even scooping up all the seawater underneath it wouldn't be a problem!"

Lin Yuan nodded with satisfaction.

"Then that's it."

He leaned back into the chair, his gaze locked on the center of the screen, at that most massive, most conspicuous nuclear-powered aircraft carrier, the "Ford."

That was the pride of the Eagle.

It was also a symbol of their hegemony.

A 100,000-ton steel behemoth.

At this moment, in Lin Yuan's eyes, it was no longer a warship.

But an exquisite, fragile plastic toy waiting to be played with.

"Order!"

Lin Yuan's voice suddenly turned cold, permeated with an unquestionable majesty.

"Tactical team, lock on the target—the 'Ford'!"

"Activate 'Gravity Hand'!"

"Control the power well; start at 30% to test the waters."

Lin Yuan extended his right hand toward the void in front of him and slowly spread his five fingers.

Then, he made a grasping motion.

"Remember."

"Be gentle."

"Handle with care."

"This is our most important 'trophy'."

"If we crush it, that wouldn't be very polite."