75: Chapter 75 System Lottery (Major Achievement)

At four in the morning on the sea, the last traces of gunpowder smoke were dispersed by the wind.

The wreckage of the United Fleet was still burning, the firelight reflecting on the pitch-black seawater like fragments of a shattered sunset.

On the bridge of the flagship "dragon soar", Li Ling leaned against the railing, a dark stain of blood on his right shoulder already dried and congealed into a dark red crust.

That was from a piece of shrapnel that had grazed him half an hour ago; he hadn't even felt the pain at the time.

The battle had lasted six hours and forty minutes.

Of the last twenty-eight vessels of the United Fleet, nineteen were sunk, six were captured, and only three escaped by taking advantage of the severe sea conditions signaling an approaching storm.

Fisher sank with his flagship, and Togo Heihachiro's flagship caught fire after being hit by a torpedo; it was said that he had already lost consciousness when he was rescued.

As for the fleet of Li Ling—all six Dreadnoughts were damaged, two heavily so, and one was nearly sinking when it was towed back to port.

Four Torpedo boats were lost, and two Submarines went missing.

Over seven hundred officers and men were killed in action, with nearly a thousand wounded.

"We won." Li Ling said in a low voice, his tone so hoarse it was barely audible.

The sea breeze blew into his throat, bringing a salty, fishy smell of blood—he didn't know if it was the enemy's or his own.

[Host, your right shoulder needs treatment. The shrapnel is still inside.]

"Wait a moment." Li Ling did not move.

He stared at the wreckage floating on the sea—shattered planks, overturned lifeboats, bloated corpses, and several oil-stained military flags drifting slowly on the water.

He suddenly remembered five years ago when he first transmigrated, standing in a bandit stronghold after his first suppression, looking at the rescued commoners, thinking to himself, "I finally did something good."

Now, he was thinking, "Seven hundred brothers, how am I going to explain this to their families?"

[Host...]

"Don't speak." He turned around and walked back to the inner cabin of the bridge, his movements somewhat stiff.

The wound on his right shoulder began to burn, as if someone had stuffed a piece of red-hot iron inside.

The light in the inner cabin was dim, and the air was filled with the mixed scent of gunpowder and blood.

The communications officer was recording the battle damage reports sent by each ship, his fingers dancing on the telegraph keys, making a ticking sound.

Li Ling sat in a chair, looking down to see the blood on his military uniform spreading from his right shoulder to his chest, looking like a dark red flower in bloom.

"Sir, the medic is here." The adjutant pushed the door open and entered, followed by a young man carrying a medical kit.

Li Ling waved his hand: "Go see the seriously wounded first; I'm not in a hurry."

The medic hesitated for a moment before stepping forward: "Sir, your wound must be treated immediately, otherwise you might lose the use of your arm."

Li Ling looked at him and did not refuse again.

He unbuttoned his military uniform to reveal his right shoulder—a piece of shrapnel the size of a thumb was embedded in his deltoid muscle, the surrounding skin and flesh had turned black, and blood was still seeping out.

The medic's hands were shaking slightly, but he still skillfully cleaned the wound with disinfectant and then took out a pair of tweezers.

"Sir, please bear with it."

The moment the tweezers entered the wound, the veins on Li Ling's forehead bulged, but he didn't make a sound.

The shrapnel was clamped out and dropped into the tray with a clink, stained with blood and bits of flesh.

The medic quickly stitched, applied medicine, and bandaged it; the whole process took less than ten minutes.

"It's done." The medic wiped the sweat from his forehead, "Sir, you cannot strain your right arm for the next few days to avoid the wound splitting open."

Li Ling nodded and put his military uniform back on.

The blood had soaked through the jacket, but he didn't care.

He walked to the sea chart and looked at the battlefield situation map marked by the staff officers, silently calculating the possible escape routes of the remaining United Fleet.

Just then, the system's prompt sounded in his mind, the voice lower than usual, as if deliberately lowering its volume:

[Ding. The decisive battle against the United Fleet is won, and the main force of the United Fleet has been completely destroyed. System judgment: "Key Battle" Grand Achievement completed. Obtained one advanced lottery. Do you want to draw now?]

Li Ling was stunned for a moment.

Grand Achievement? The last time he heard that evaluation was when he received his first super luxury gift package.

That time, the system gave him an entire Special Forces unit, full-territory Radar, and a large amount of modern weaponry.

And this time...

"Draw." He said in his heart, his voice as calm as if he were discussing what to eat today.

[Lottery starting... Congratulations to the host, you have obtained—Naval Command System Upgrade Module.]

"What?" Li Ling frowned, "What is this thing used for?"

[The Naval Command System Upgrade Module can be installed on the flagship to realize real-time data link sharing among all ships. Simply put, after installation, the host can see the real-time location, ammunition stock, damage status, speed, and heading of every friendly ship from the flagship, and can even remotely issue fire distribution orders.]

Li Ling's eyes slowly lit up.

In naval warfare of this era, command relies entirely on signal flags and radio, and information transmission is as slow as a snail.

If a ship is crippled, the flagship might not know for more than ten minutes.

But with this system, he could mobilize every ship in real-time like playing chess, concentrating firepower where it is needed most.

"This kind of technology, in this era..." He muttered.

[In this era, it is at least fifty years ahead. The system's data link technology is top-tier even in the twenty-first century. Host, you've hit the jackpot.]

Li Ling was silent for a moment and suddenly asked: "Can this system be copied to other fleets after being installed on the flagship?"

[Yes. But it requires the Production Base to produce additional terminal equipment, and each set will consume resource points. However, compared to the value of this system, these resource points are not worth mentioning.]

Li Ling finally smiled.

The smile pulled at the wound on his right shoulder, making him wince in pain, but his heart was light.

"Good." He said in his heart, "I'll install it when we get back. In the next naval battle, I will make the enemy not even know how they lost."

He didn't jump up with excitement like he used to, nor did he pester the system for more rewards.

He simply accepted this trophy calmly, then continued to look at the sea chart and continued to calculate the next operational plan.

The cruelty of war had worn him down from a young man who liked to shout "System, you're stingy" into a silent commander who was accustomed to letting actions replace emotions.

---

When dawn was approaching, Li Ling walked out of the inner cabin and returned to the bridge.

The fire on the sea had been extinguished, leaving only a few wisps of residual smoke drifting in the morning breeze.

The eastern sky turned a pale white, dyeing the sea a faint grayish-blue.

In the distance, several rescue ships were salvaging those who had fallen into the water, and the soldiers on the lifeboats were working silently; no one spoke.

"System." Li Ling suddenly spoke.

[Hmm?]

"Do you think anyone will hate me after this war is over?"

[There are already many people who hate the host. Japan hates the host, Meijian Country hates the host, the UK hates the host, and those warlords defeated by the host also hate the host. But there are also many people who love the host—the host's soldiers, the host's people, and the host's family.]

Li Ling was silent for a while and said softly: "Will the families of those seven hundred brothers hate me?"

The system's voice paused for a moment, seemingly weighing its words. Then it said: [They might be sad, they might grieve, but they will not hate the host. Because their sons, husbands, and fathers died protecting their home. This kind of death is more meaningful than living.]

"Meaningful." Li Ling repeated these three words, a bitter arc pulling at the corner of his mouth.

He thought of the list of fallen soldiers—Wang Dazhu, twenty-three years old, from Jiangsu, the only son in his family. Liu Ergou, nineteen years old, from Anhui, both parents died, lived by begging before joining the army. Zhao Tiezhu, thirty-one years old, from Shandong, had a wife and three children at home. Behind every name was a broken family.

"After we return," Li Ling said, "The first batch of pensions must be delivered to the families immediately. If it's not enough, take it from my private account."

[Host, you have already subsidized a lot of money. If you keep paying, you will become a pauper yourself.]

"If I'm poor, so be it." Li Ling said, "I promised them I would let them live a good life. If I can't do that, at least I must pay the pensions in full."

The system did not speak again.

On the distant sea, the morning sun finally jumped above the horizon.

Golden sunlight spilled onto the sparkling seawater, coating the wreckage and oil stains with a layer of warm color.

Li Ling squinted and watched for a while, then turned and walked back to the inner cabin.

He still had a lot to do. Statistics of casualties, replenishing ammunition, repairing damaged ships, arranging medical treatment for the wounded, comforting the families of the fallen soldiers... and that naval command system, he had to install and debug it as soon as he got back.

War is never something you can rest from after one battle. The real fight often only begins after the gunpowder smoke has dissipated.

---

That evening, the fleet returned.

Li Ling stood on the deck of the "dragon soar", watching the lights of the port gradually becoming clear in the distance.

The sea breeze carried a chill, blowing on his face and drying the cold sweat on his forehead.

The pier was already crowded with people waiting to welcome them.

He saw the Princess, Empress Su Wanqing, and Emily—the three women stood together, standing out in the crowd.

The Princess wore a pale purple dress, holding a bouquet of flowers in her hands; Empress Su Wanqing kept tiptoeing to look at the sea, her face full of anxiety; Emily was supporting Empress Su Wanqing's arm, holding a small lantern in her other hand, the flame flickering in the wind.

Li Ling took a deep breath and walked down the gangway with long strides.

The three women rushed up at the same time.

Empress Su Wanqing was the first to throw herself into his arms, her tears instantly soaking his chest; Emily followed closely, hugging his right arm, hitting his wound, making Li Ling frown slightly, but he did not dodge; the Princess stood on the periphery, her eyes red, but she only said softly, "Husband, you are back," and could not say anything more.

"I'm back." Li Ling's voice was a bit hoarse, "It's okay, everything is fine."

He did not mention his injury.

The pain in his right shoulder was still there, but compared to those brothers who would never return, what was this little injury?

On the pier, the cheers of triumph rose and fell.

But Li Ling knew that the real challenge was still ahead.

Although the United Fleet had been annihilated, the great powers would not give up.

Although Japan had surrendered, the seeds of hatred had already been planted.

Those warlords were still carving up the land, those commoners were still suffering, and this land was still waiting for a true master.

He looked up at the slowly moving satellite light point in the night sky and said silently in his heart—

"Next step, Northern Expedition."