227: Chapter 227 Vertical Landing? No Way!

[Temporary mission: Show them what you've got, completed.]

[Rewards being calculated...]

"Ding."

[Reward distributed: Extreme physical fitness (Cold and heat resistance thresholds significantly increased, oxygen demand reduced by 80%)]

Li Li adjusted his seating position.

A warm current surged up his spine, straight to the back of his head.

The freezing temperature at 10,000 meters altitude, which would normally have frozen right through the cockpit, was now completely unfelt by him.

The muscle fibers beneath his G-suit quietly reorganized.

He raised his right hand and clenched his fingers.

His knuckles cracked.

He was filled with strength.

The suffocating sensation in his lungs had vanished completely.

He held his breath.

One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes.

His heartbeat remained steady, without the slightest hint of hypoxia-induced dizziness.

"This reward is solid."

Li Li tapped the control stick.

"I reckon I could open the canopy right now, stand up, and sing 'Qinghai-Tibet Plateau' without dying."

The system ignored him.

The F135 engine continued to roar.

He glanced at the multi-function display.

Speed: Mach 1.5.

Heading: Due west.

Distance to the mainland coastline: Less than 100 nautical miles.

Radar data link refreshed.

A massive naval fleet appeared in the waters ahead.

The public frequency cut in.

"Calling Call Sign."

A male voice spoke in crisp, clear Mandarin.

The tone was strained with emotion.

"This is the Eastern Theater Command, amphibious assault ship, Sichuan."

Li Li pressed the communication button.

"Call Sign received."

He glanced down at the massive flat-topped warship on the sea below.

Helicopters were parked on the deck, and the island superstructure loomed high.

"Sichuan, let's make a deal."

"This F-35 of mine has vertical takeoff and landing capabilities."

"How about I just land on your deck? It'll save me from flying inland, and I can get off work early."

The other end of the communication fell into dead silence.

Three seconds later.

"Call Sign, request denied."

The communicator's voice rose by an octave.

"First, you stole... the one you're piloting is an F-35A! The conventional takeoff and landing version!"

"It doesn't have a lift fan! Forcing a vertical landing will smash right through our flight deck!"

Li Li tutted.

"The A-model? I thought President Trump had left me the top-of-the-line version."

"Then I'll just do a ski-jump landing."

"Denied!"

The communicator spoke extremely fast, terrified that this kid might actually dive down.

"Orders from above. Call Sign, please maintain an altitude of 8,000 and a heading due west."

"Your destination is Shanghai Hongqiao International Airport."

Li Li froze.

His left hand paused on the throttle.

"Hongqiao? Isn't that a civilian airport?"

"An active-duty US fifth-generation fighter landing at a civilian airport with tens of millions in passenger throughput?"

"You guys are making a huge scene."

The communicator on the Sichuan regained his composure.

"The airspace has been cleared. The ground has taken over."

"Just keep flying."

"The Eastern Theater Command wishes you a safe flight."

The communication cut off.

Li Li shook his head.

Go to Shanghai.

Fine.

He pushed the throttle.

The grey-black fighter tore through the clouds, heading straight for the mainland coastline.

Shanghai Hongqiao International Airport, Terminal 2.

Domestic departures terminal.

Chaos.

Extreme chaos.

An emotionless female voice played on a loop over the broadcast.

"We apologize to inform you that due to weather conditions, your flight has been delayed. Departure time is to be determined..."

The boarding gate counter was packed solid.

A middle-aged man wearing a thick gold necklace slammed his boarding pass onto the marble counter.

"Weather conditions? Look outside!"

He pointed at the clear blue sky outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"It's a clear, sunny day! There isn't even a single cloud! And you're telling me it's weather conditions?"

The young ground staff girl was squeezed in the middle of the crowd, sweating profusely with anxiety.

"Sir, the weather along the flight path is complex. Please understand..."

"Understand my ass! I've got a multi-million contract waiting to be signed!"

The man pulled out his phone.

"Call your manager! I want to file a complaint!"

Nearby, a young man holding a stabilizer was loudly livestreaming.

"Guys! Look at this scene!"

"The entire Hongqiao Airport has grounded all flights! Everything is stuck on the ground!"

"When you ask, they just say weather conditions! There's definitely some big tea here!"

The comments in the livestream were scrolling frantically.

[Streamer, go ask the cleaning lady, she has the best intel!]

[Hongqiao grounding is nothing, Pudong is stopped too!]

[I have a buddy in the Air Traffic Control Bureau, he says the entire East China airspace has been cleared!]

[Holy crap, is a war starting?]

A mother with a child paced anxiously on the bench, the baby crying heart-wrenchingly.

A college student dragging a suitcase simply sat on the floor, wearing headphones and playing a game.

A blonde, blue-eyed foreigner held his passport, protesting to the security guard in broken Chinese.

"I want to go back to my country! This is illegal detention!"

The cleaning lady pushed her cart, unable to squeeze through the crowd at all.

The resentment in the entire terminal was enough to blow the glass dome off.

On the row of seats at the very edge of the waiting area.

A young couple wearing floral shirts and sunglasses appeared exceptionally calm.

The wife bit the straw and took a sip of her iced Americano.

"No use being anxious."

She scrolled on her phone screen.

"I just saw in the group chat that not only Hongqiao, but Pudong is also grounded. The entire eastern airspace is sealed off."

The husband leaned back in his chair, holding his phone with both hands, his thumbs scrolling frantically.

"Sealing the airspace is normal."

"Look at how the internet is exploding right now."

The wife leaned in.

On the husband's phone screen, the recommendation feed of the short video platform had been completely taken over by the same event.

The top ten trending topics were all about the same subject.

#US Kadena Air Base F-35 Stolen#

#200 Million People Watching the Ultimate Looting#

#President Trump's Livestream Disaster#

#Mysterious Pilot Steals Fifth-Gen Fighter#

The husband clicked on a remixed video with over ten million views.

The footage was a looped, meme-style edit of President Trump on the viewing platform, his hair blown into a bird's nest by the fighter jet's exhaust.

The background music was "Good Luck."

The comments densely covered half the screen.

[Hahahaha President Trump is delivering warmth!]

[The top donor just tipped an F-35! This gift is too hardcore!]

[Who the hell is this pilot? Too wild!]

[Stealing a plane right in front of the President, high-quality human looting!]

[I heard that plane cut its transponder and ran west!]

The husband scrolled to the next video.

It was a military blogger with black-rimmed glasses frantically pointing at a map.

"Brothers, according to foreign radar data, the last direction that F-35 disappeared in was due west."

"What does due west mean?"

The blogger's finger poked heavily at the map.

"It's coming straight at our East China Sea Air Defense Identification Zone!"

The wife put down her iced Americano.

"Over here? Doesn't that mean it flew straight into the East China Sea?"

The husband rubbed his chin.

"You said the eastern airspace is completely sealed, and all civil aviation is grounded."

He casually tossed out a line.

"It couldn't be that the F-35 flew over here to surrender, could it?"

The air went quiet for a second.

The wife turned her head and stared at her husband.

The husband also looked up, and they locked eyes.

"No way, right?" the wife lowered her voice.

"What kind of international joke is that." The husband waved his hand.

"If it really flew over, it would have to go to a military airport."

"Could it really come to a place like Hongqiao and fight for a runway with civilian flights?"

"Besides, that's an F-35, the US military's precious baby. Can you just let someone fly it away?"

Before the words had even faded.

In front of the terminal's huge floor-to-ceiling glass windows, a little boy wearing overalls suddenly jumped up.

He pressed his whole body against the glass, his chubby little finger pointing outside.

"Mom! Look!"

The little boy's voice was sharp and crisp, piercing through the noise of the terminal.

"So many cars!"

"So many cars are driving on the airport runway!"

The surrounding arguments stopped for a moment.

The man with the big gold necklace turned his head.

The young ground staff girl leaned out halfway.

The young man livestreaming quickly aimed his camera outside the window.

The complaining foreigner stopped waving his passport.

The couple in the corner also stood up.

Everyone's gaze crossed over the terminal seats and toward the tarmac.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

At the end of the originally empty runway, a long convoy of vehicles flashing red and blue lights was roaring toward them at high speed.

Leading the way were six black SWAT armored riot vehicles.

The tires screeched harshly as they rubbed against the ground.

Following closely were ten heavy airport fire trucks, their massive water cannons already raised high and aimed at the sky.

Further back.

Were endless rows of military Mengshi off-road vehicles.

And communication command vehicles covered in digital camouflage netting.

The convoy quickly spread out on both sides of the main runway.

Pulling out a two-kilometer-long absolute exclusion zone.

Heavily armed SWAT officers and soldiers jumped out of the vehicles.

Fully armed with live ammunition.

Guards stationed every three steps.

Riot shields reflected cold, hard light in the sun.

Directly sealing off the entire main runway.

The terminal was deathly silent.

Only the sound of phone shutters snapping frantically could be heard.

The man with the big gold necklace hung his mouth open, his boarding pass dropping to the floor.

The young ground staff girl covered her mouth.

The husband from the couple shook, dropping his phone onto his own foot, not even feeling the pain.

In the sky.

A low-frequency roar tore through the clouds, crashing straight toward the glass dome of the terminal.