Home

At a naval base somewhere along the southeastern coast, Old Liu, a senior Navy commander, was reading through the documents and another booklet in his hands.

The document contained a list of the individuals and organizations awarded First-Class Merit this time around, along with their detailed records. Their personal conduct, in particular, had undergone rigorous scrutiny.

Winning battles and maintaining exemplary conduct were not just empty words.

Liu Jun, this cadet, had made a stunning debut. He had also looked into the cadet's background. Liu Jun was currently single and had outstanding training results. Both his parents were working-class people: his mother was a quality inspector, while his father was a technician. Every month, he used one-fifth of his allowance to support several underprivileged students. No wonder he had been so enthusiastic about the "stick-pulling fee."

Old Liu smiled to himself. There was no shortage of officers in the military who sponsored poor students; many simply chose not to talk about it. Whenever he thought of those "rich second-generation" officers and pilots in television dramas, so detached from the common people, he wanted to throw his hat.

It was not that there were no recruits from well-off families, but most were children of ordinary people. Once they entered the great crucible of the military, there was no difference between them. They had only one name: the People's Liberation Army (Jinzhuma Mi).

He turned and glanced at the striking red dot on the world map hanging in his office—the Sky Pit.

This Sky Pit had smashed the First, Second, and Third Island Chains to pieces. It was unclear whether Great East was pleased, but the USA was certainly having a hard time.

Soon, countries around the world would begin formal investigations, explorations, or military operations concerning the Sky Pit. Great East would be no exception.

With such a massive variable sitting there, neither the East nor the West could possibly turn a blind eye to it. On the general's desk lay a red-headed document, clearly titled: "Guidelines for the Second Contact with an Extraterrestrial Civilization."

Beside that red-headed document was another document compiled from the battlefield records of the 815A reconnaissance ship and Liu Jun's own account: "Combat Regulations."

So-called combat regulations were meant to standardize, systematize, and streamline combat.

As a small third-tier city, it did not have its own large civilian airport. This kind of military-civilian dual-use airport served both national defense and economic development. It was just right for a small city with limited passenger traffic, and its maintenance costs were low. The money earned from commercial operations could offset those costs. Its only drawback was that it was somewhat small.

"Control Tower to Changkong. The runway is clear. You may land. Repeat, you are cleared to land."

"Changkong received."

After receiving the landing clearance from the Control Tower, the J-15 began flying the five-leg pattern over the airport.

This was the first time he had flown home. Liu Jun observed the position and direction of the runway below, then flew the first leg to adjust his distance. He turned onto the second leg to adjust his spacing, then turned again toward the runway's landing area. Throughout the approach, he kept working the throttle, adjusting his altitude as he slowly descended.

After turning onto the fourth leg, he had descended to four hundred meters. Liu Jun could clearly see the situation on the runway below. Once he confirmed there were no abnormalities, he made the final turn onto the fifth leg. His altitude, speed, and heading were all in place. The nose pointed at the E-shaped marking on the runway as he continued working the throttle.

He lowered the landing flaps and deployed the landing gear. The instruments were normal. Liu Jun drove toward the runway below like he was smashing into it. That was right—compared to the Air Force's elegant landings, naval aviation landings were downright brutal. Carrier decks were so short that there was no other way.

Screech! The instant the landing gear touched the ground, the aircraft sank sharply. Tires scraped against the runway as a wisp of blue smoke rose, leaving behind clear skid marks.

Liu Jun did not dare reduce power. He still maintained go-around speed. It was muscle memory left over from training, not something he could change just because his brain reminded him that this was not an aircraft carrier.

Only after confirming that he had landed did Liu Jun reduce power and deploy the speed brakes. He rolled down the long runway, then applied the brakes to slow further once his speed had dropped. The J-15 gradually slowed, then, pushed by its twin WS10 engines, drove toward the hangar like a tricycle under the guidance signals.

"Tsk, naval aviation really is brutal."

In the Control Tower, the air traffic controller who had been watching Changkong land through binoculars clicked his tongue. He had only heard about it before, but now he had seen it for himself. An Air Force landing gear would never withstand that kind of punishment.

"Huh?!"

The controller suddenly let out a startled cry.

"What is it?"

Everyone nearby turned to look at him. The controller lowered his binoculars, wiped the lenses, and stared through them again.

"Damn! A J-15 with kill markings?"

The people in the Control Tower immediately sprang up. The Air Force commander in particular grabbed a pair of binoculars and looked over. Sure enough, beneath the canopy were three solid stars: ★★★.

He did not suspect that the pilot had painted them himself. Without the corresponding honor, the ground crew would never paint stars or any other markings on an aircraft, even if beaten to death.

Under the gazes of the Control Tower personnel, the J-15 taxied to a stop beside the hangar. A tow vehicle pulled up, clamped onto the landing gear, and backed it into the hangar.

The aircraft stopped in its assigned parking area. After the wheel chocks were placed and the canopy opened, Liu Jun climbed down the boarding ladder and handed the aircraft over to the maintenance crew. Yet he noticed that the crewman's eyes kept drifting beneath the cockpit, then shining as he looked Liu Jun over from head to toe.

"Sorry to trouble you."

"Not at all! It's what I should do!"

"Where's the changing room?" Liu Jun carried his luggage and looked around the airport, somewhat unsure of its exact location.

"Over there. Xiao Huang, take him."

"Thanks."

Riding in an airport shuttle, he reached the changing room in less than thirty seconds. After changing into casual clothes, Liu Jun carried his luggage out of the military-civilian airport. The moment he left, brakes squealed at the hangar entrance. A major and several captains and second lieutenants, all pilots, hurriedly jumped out of a vehicle.

The major looked at the maintenance crew checking the fighter's condition inside the hangar and asked anxiously, "Where is he?!"

"He just left."

"What?!"

"Damn it! We were one step too late!" A captain slammed his fist against his thigh.

The major stared gloomily at the J-15 before him, gazing at those three stars for a long time. A pilot with actual kill experience was not someone one could run into anywhere. Even if they could not spar against him, having him teach them a lesson would have been fine!

This was real combat experience, something no amount of training could fully simulate! It was the only standard for testing training!

"Driver, take me to Dongyuan Residential Complex."

Liu Jun got into a taxi and spoke to the driver.

"Sure thing. Hold on tight."

The driver started the meter, shifted gears, and pressed the accelerator. Amid the low hum of the electric motor, the taxi headed toward the destination Liu Jun had given. The driver listened to the radio as he drove.

Liu Jun turned to look out the window. He had not returned to his hometown for many years. From the air earlier, he had already noticed that the small third-tier city had expanded outward several times over. Many high-rises and newly built residential complexes had appeared in the urban area, while the roads had gained two additional lanes.

Great East's development had never stopped, not even in a small third-tier city.