?Mobile reading After losing fighter jets, warships, and helicopters, the Sun Nationals were indeed terrified—other vessels withdrew in orderly fashion, replaced by private company salvage ships. Eighty-Electronic-Book Though the number of ships in this region remained comparable to before, the replacement of naval vessels with civilian ones carried significant meaning. The Hua Xia fleet remained stationed at the outer perimeter, undamaged—this left the Sun Nationals envious, resentful, and deeply impressed. Even the American ships hadn't received such favorable treatment—how could the Hua Xia forces have remained so secure? Qin, the young magnate, appeared on the bridge holding a cup of milk tea. Though not part of the navy, he had already become the soul of the ship—so much so that even the captain deeply admired him, to the point of being unable to explain exactly why. "Have the salvage operations on the other side yielded any results?" he asked with a smile. The captain shook his head and said, "Lifting the aircraft will be easier, since the aircraft's weight is limited. But lifting the destroyer will certainly be a major undertaking. That Watanabe-class destroyer, with a full load displacement of 9,000 tons, even if split in two, each section would weigh several thousand tons. And since it's filled with seawater, adding several thousand more tons of weight, ordinary salvage vessels simply won't be able to handle it." "So, their salvage operation is a challenging and demanding task, isn't it?" He began to feel a bit regretful. The Japanese wouldn't leave this area, and thus his mission would have to continue. He had known this would be the case—he should have avoided sinking such a large warship. He really didn't want to stay at sea, spending his days surrounded by male seamen. How dull that would be! He had considered flying back to Zhongyuan Province via his flying sword, but at his current speed, a round trip would take at least four or five hours. How would he explain the absence during this time to the captain and his crew? So, just stay put patiently. "Heh, without at least ten or fifteen days, they won't be able to recover us," the captain said. "We just received word that the second batch of fleets is gathering. Once they arrive, we'll be able to retreat back to the naval base for a bit of rest!" "That sounds wonderful—staying on board all day long really takes its toll," he smiled. At that moment, the sonar operator reported, "Captain, we've detected a large submarine approaching from sixty nautical miles away, traveling at twenty knots." "Is it an American or a Sun Nation submarine?" the captain asked, growing concerned. "Based on sonar characteristics, it appears to be a Sun Nation's Chikyu-class," the sonar operator concluded. The Chikyu-class submarine is one of the world's largest conventional submarines, with a submerged displacement of 3,000 tons. In addition to being capable of launching torpedoes, it can also fire submarine-launched anti-ship missiles, making it a highly capable combat platform. The second officer frowned, his brows forming a "character" shape, saying, "Their surface warships have mostly withdrawn—why send submarines now? Don't they fear another incident?" The captain analyzed, "Exactly because surface warships and aircraft have encountered problems, they're now trying submarines. These people truly never give up until they reach the Yellow River!" Qin, the young officer, asked, "Is this submarine particularly capable? Our equipment is also quite good—we detected their presence even at sixty nautical miles. If the battle begins, they won't have any advantage at all!" The second officer replied, "The 'Kikusui'-class isn't the most advanced submarine of the Sun Country. The leading one is the 'Aso'-class. That submarine has exceptional underwater stealth—it's already remarkable to spot it at twenty or thirty nautical miles. After all, it can launch its submarine-launched missiles from as far as eighty nautical miles away, never coming close enough to be detected!" "Understood. You go ahead and handle your duties—I'll catch some rest." Stretching his arms, he added, "It's a bit unfamiliar to live at sea!" The captain and first officer were fully focused on the submarine, so they said little. One hour later, Qin, the young officer, quietly set off. At the submarine's current speed, the distance to the Chinese warship should now be about forty nautical miles. His flight speed was around 300 to 400 kilometers per hour, meaning he could reach the submarine's position in just twenty minutes. Twenty minutes into the flight, he dropped a sonar buoy he had retrieved from the equipment store. As soon as the buoy submerged, it began operating, and the sonar signals quickly appeared on his tablet. "By golly, it's quite a large one," he exclaimed, amazed. According to the sonar detection, there was a creature over 80 meters long at a depth of 150 meters beneath the surface. The submarine then reduced its speed from 20 to 10 knots, and all its instruments were turned on, conducting a thorough survey of the seabed. Qin observed for a moment, then folded his tablet and said to himself, "That remotely operated submarine we saw earlier exploded right on the deck—so small, in fact, I'm not even comfortable telling others that I've managed to handle a submarine. This one, though, is a real beast. We've got to give it some serious attention—hehe!" As he spoke, he plunged into the water. He walked steadily to the rear of the submarine, and at a thought, dozens of nylon ropes—each over two centimeters in diameter—shot out and quickly became entangled in the wake of the propellers, tightly securing the blades. The submarine suddenly shuddered, losing power. Before the captain could ask a question, someone spoke up: "Report, sir—we've lost power; the propellers have stopped turning!" "Full power," the captain ordered. "Affirmative," replied the helmsman, who increased the throttle to maximum. Yet the blades remained firmly bound by the dozens of ropes, and the more they struggled, the tighter the entanglement grew. "Report, sir—the propellers appear to be caught by something," someone reported. The captain looked up and said: "Impossible. We're not in a coastal seaweed farming area, and our naval fleet has long controlled this region. There's no way any fishing vessels could have entered. How could the propellers be caught? Try again—full power!" "It wouldn't do even once—let alone ten times. Quick, get in touch with the base command and report that we've lost power and can't move, requesting their instructions." The captain grew increasingly urgent. When the base received the submarine's report, everyone there felt the urge to hit the walls—was it really the case that there was a problem in that sea area? Otherwise, why had there been so many consecutive incidents? That simply didn't make sense.