I shot down three planes?

Zhang Peng operated the J-15S, retracting the arresting hook and folding its wings. The canopy slowly opened, and Liu Jun in the back seat took advantage of the opportunity, loosening his helmet and taking a deep breath of the air rushing in.

The air carried the familiar scent of the sea, along with the smell of burning machine oil and aviation fuel. Ground crew members were busy on the catwalk, directing the takeoff and landing of fighter jets.

After setting up a ladder, a ground crew member climbed up and leaned by the cockpit, looking at Liu Jun with concern. He asked urgently, "Are you okay? Do you feel unwell anywhere?"

"I'm fine, everything's normal. I can get off the plane myself."

"Me too," Zhang Peng, in the front seat, also indicated he didn't need assistance.

Compared to the pilots of aircraft [140], who had exhausted all their energy and stamina, they were much more relaxed. One had enhanced physical fitness, and the other had been in a "deep sleep like an infant" throughout the intense combat. Returning would not consume much energy.

Liu Jun descended the ladder, took off his helmet, and looked back at aircraft [139]. Compared to the clean state it was in when departing, it was now travel-worn. The area around the cannon fairing was once again blackened by exhaust gases, like a beautiful young girl with a smudge of dirt on her face, a bit mischievous.

A tug towed the J-15S away, clearing the deck for other J-15s to land. Liu Jun looked in the direction of the Sky Pit. Faint pixelated dots reflecting colorful light could be seen in the sky. He squinted slightly, like a sniper preparing to fire.

At this moment, Zhang Peng walked up and patted his shoulder. No words were needed between men – he had performed well in this combat.

"Master, are they really aliens?"

As a pilot who had engaged in a dogfight with unidentified flying objects at close range and successfully shot down three, he had clearly seen the details of the enemy craft: glass-like, unidentified material for the skin, propulsion systems with unknown principles in the tail, and onboard weapons that appeared to be energy weapons. Human technology could not be seen anywhere on them, and their design style alone was incompatible.

"I don't know, maybe."

Zhang Peng also felt that those aircraft were not creations of Earth. The creations of a civilization have continuity; the things they produce somewhat conform to the aesthetics of the individuals within that civilization.

"Let's go."

Entering the carrier island, they immediately ran into their squadron leader, who was waiting for them. Upon seeing Zhang Peng, he raised an eyebrow, his eyes scanning him up and down as if he were meeting him for the first time. "Well done, Old Zhang! I didn't realize you were so capable, shooting down three!"

"Shot down three? Me?" Zhang Peng looked at the squadron leader in surprise.

It took him a moment to realize that the three unidentified flying objects shot down were all by aircraft [139]. But he had been unconscious from G-force the entire time. Thinking of this, he seemed to have a realization and turned to look at his disciple, his gaze fixed on Liu Jun with a strange intensity, scrutinizing him as if he were meeting him all over again.

"Hey! If not you, then who?" The squadron leader, seeing Zhang Peng's odd reaction, followed his gaze and finally locked onto Liu Jun.

"My disciple." Zhang Peng would not claim credit that belonged to someone else. If he was unconscious, it must have been Liu Jun.

"He..." The squadron leader looked at Liu Jun with uncertain surprise. From the battle records sent back by the WZ7, they had seen how the J-15S shot down the three enemy aircraft. It could be described as skilled and decisive, without any hesitation.

"Comrade Liu Jun, well done!"

The squadron leader inwardly affirmed Liu Jun's actions. Being able to shoot down enemy aircraft in actual combat was essentially the final assessment for Liu Jun. At this moment, he was no longer a cadet, and even if he were, he wouldn't be for long.

"Thanks to my teammate's cover," Liu Jun said calmly.

"No need to be modest." The squadron leader reached out and patted Liu Jun's shoulder. He could tell that Liu Jun genuinely felt it was nothing, rather than being arrogant.

"What about us next?" Zhang Peng asked softly beside the squadron leader.

"We'll rendezvous with the Charles de Gaulle and then head back," the squadron leader stated the deployment he knew.

The enemy had appeared. Without detailed intelligence, the higher-ups would not let the Liaoning carrier strike group take risks. The Carl Vinson carrier strike group had already set an example.

Meanwhile, in the skies over the Western Pacific, several satellites were closely monitoring the area, especially the imaging satellites, which had witnessed the entire battle.

On the ocean, the Carl Vinson, having escaped the "Bee's" attack range, was slowly making its way towards Hawaii at a speed of 20 knots.

The fire on the flight deck had finally been extinguished by the damage control department's all-out efforts, but the flight deck had lost its ability to launch and recover carrier-based aircraft.

None of the launched carrier-based aircraft had returned. Most had been shot down by the unidentified flying objects; those that weren't shot down could not be guided due to the paralysis of the ship's electrical system and the disconnection of the generators. By the time the aircraft ran out of fuel, they would plunge into the sea.

The damage control personnel, who had successfully extinguished the fire, sat dejectedly on the flight deck, looking at the extremely chaotic deck. Burning plastic insects, reduced to mere skeletons, lay limp on the deck. The ammunition elevators were twisted and deformed by the sympathetic detonation of ammunition. Several damage control personnel in yellow vests lay motionless on the deck, while more yellow vests had been blown into the sea and were listed as MIA.

Inside the carrier, smoke from the raging fires had suffocated many crew members who couldn't evacuate in time. The surviving crew members were placing the bodies of their fallen comrades into body bags. The rows of dense corpses further lowered morale. Not a single crew member wore a smile.

In the CIC, the captain, who was in charge of commanding the battle, wore a bitter smile as he looked at the preliminary damage report. Carrier-based aircraft losses were at ninety percent, with 267 crew members killed or wounded, and 25 missing. Whether the severely injured could make it to Hawaii was still uncertain, and the casualty figures would only increase.

Dozens of nautical miles away, the surviving subordinate ships, which had not yet sunk, were gathering surviving crew members. Some crew members stared at the Sky Pit in the sky with terrified expressions; they no longer had the courage to face those terrifying enemies again and only wanted to go home.

"Mr. President, we've encountered... trouble."

In the Oval Office at the Pentagon, the Secretary of Defense and several other high-ranking officials, with ashen faces, held a hat named "the pot" and prepared to place it on the President's head.

The United States' national strength had been in continuous decline, with its governance and national capabilities hitting new lows, relying entirely on the military might of the 1980s. However, today... the invincible supercarrier strike group had suffered a Waterloo. Even if the enemy was not from Earth, it had shattered this myth, the myth of invincibility.

After all, in American movies, they were always beating up aliens.

"The Carl Vinson carrier strike group has suffered a heavy blow!"

"How much loss...?"

"Everything! America is facing a severe challenge. We need you to deliver a national address immediately!"

The white-haired President's once lively expression instantly turned blank again, as if he hadn't heard what they were saying. In his heart, however, he was already cursing.

God! Can't I just retire peacefully!