Experience Points Allocation

After confirming the tailhook had caught the cable, Liu Jun throttled down and applied the brakes. The J-15 continued sliding forward for a distance before the arresting gear cable helped drain its energy, bringing it to a steady stop on the deck.

A textbook carrier landing complete, the deck crew rushed toward the J-15 as Liu Jun removed his helmet, his gaze shifting toward the island.

"Should be good enough, right?"

His landing had been textbook. The [Daytime Carrier Qualification Certification] should pass. For the next year, he'd be training aboard the Liaoning.

Once the carrier-based aircraft was confirmed stable, ground crew drove a small tug to tow the J-15 to the parking area, securing it to the deck with mooring locks. Most eyes, however, lingered on a section of skin on the right side of the cockpit—its surface, made of a different material from the rest, was blackened by the gun gas from the cannon firing.

Climbing down the ladder from the J-15, Liu Jun oriented himself and headed toward the island. Next, he needed to report to his superiors.

Walking across the Liaoning's broad deck, the hull felt as steady as solid ground amid the sea. The waves couldn't budge this giant vessel, and its sailing stability was excellent—nothing like that Indian carrier, which kept pitching forward as it plowed through the water.

As he walked, Liu Jun checked the experience he'd just gained. It was enough to match half a month of flying. Glancing at the requirements for each skill, none were enough for an upgrade except Situational Awareness, which could go up by 0.5. He dumped the experience straight into Situational Awareness.

Ding~

[Visual Acuity Training LV:1]
[Situational Awareness LV:1]
[G-Force Tolerance LV:2]
[Physique Enhancement LV:1]
[Life Augmentation LV:1]

The skills were well-balanced. Liu Jun felt he was becoming a "low-spec pentagon warrior." After a few steps, he suddenly stopped. A clarity washed over his mind, and he could clearly sense every "movement" around him—even things his eyes couldn't see, he could perceive with perfect clarity.

This change caught Liu Jun off guard. Every single skill was incredibly powerful. Too bad Flight Experience had to be built up through steady, painstaking effort. After all, this was peacetime; he could only accumulate it through flight hours.

Reaching the island, Liu Jun saw the officer waiting for him. Snap! He stood at attention and announced, "Cadet Liu Jun reporting!"

"At ease."

The officer sized Liu Jun up, nodded inwardly, and gestured to the middle-aged man beside him. "This is Zhang Peng. He'll be your instructor from now on. Alright, Old Zhang, take him around and get him familiarized. You'll be notified once his certification results are out."

With that, the battalion commander turned and left—he had other matters to attend to. Only Liu Jun and Zhang Peng remained.

"Instructor."

Zhang Peng was a round-faced middle-aged man. He gave Liu Jun a friendly smile and motioned for him to follow. An instructor wasn't like a drill sergeant; the relationship was closer! He was responsible for teaching the apprentice to fly, but also for looking after his daily life and emotional well-being. "Teacher and father" wasn't just an empty phrase.

"Don't worry. I saw your landing. The daytime qualification certification is no issue."

Zhang Peng reassured him as they walked. First, they headed to the ship's security office to store some personal items. On the carrier, personal phone calls and internet use were strictly forbidden.

A single phone call, even a text message, could expose the carrier's position!

Liu Jun took out his belongings one by one for the security personnel to inspect.

His phone was turned off and handed over—it would be returned when he disembarked. The tablet was checked for its brand; once confirmed it wasn't an Apple or other foreign brand, but a domestic Huawei, it was returned to Liu Jun. After all, pilots needed their own space. The tablet had some TV shows and movies on it. A few paper books and a notebook were left untouched.

After handling his personal items, Zhang Peng led him into the carrier's interior, explaining the layout of the compartments. Liu Jun listened carefully.

"Below the flight deck, there are over a dozen levels. It's really like a maze. I got lost a few times when I first came aboard."

Zhang Peng recounted his embarrassing moments, his round face full of resignation. The carrier was enormous—passageways and compartments everywhere. The total length of all internal corridors added up to dozens of kilometers, and the internal structure was incredibly complex.

"There are over 3,000 compartments on this ship, with more than a thousand people living in them. It's a floating city. Oh, and there's even a store inside. If you forget to bring something, you can buy it there—pretty well-stocked, though no alcohol."

With that, Zhang Peng sniffed the air. He didn't catch any smell of tobacco on Liu Jun. As for alcohol? Pilots wouldn't touch it.

"Don't smoke. Good, good." Zhang Peng then led Liu Jun along the port side, explaining the carrier's internal rules: "The passageways are too narrow for two-way traffic. You should have learned this already—the basic rule is: when heading toward the bow, walk on the port side; when heading toward the stern, walk on the starboard side."

"Oh? Old Zhang, taking on an apprentice now?"

As they spoke, the two reached a ladder and encountered a veteran soldier. Liu Jun glanced at his rank insignia—holy shit! A Chief Petty Officer First Class! He immediately felt a surge of respect.

Zhang Peng stepped aside, and Liu Jun followed suit. When going up or down a ladder, the rule was to let those ascending go first.

The chief petty officer climbed the ladder, glanced at Liu Jun, and said, "Kid, just came aboard?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Learn well from Old Zhang. Don't let his fat fool you—there's still something in that belly." With that, the chief petty officer strode off toward the mess hall.

"Hey! Who are you calling fat!" Zhang Peng protested a few times before explaining, "That was the chief engineer. He runs the engine room."

Zhang Peng gave a brief introduction to the engine room and then dropped the subject. Knowing where it was, that was enough. Pilots had no reason to wander into the engine room. The places they visited most were the flight deck, the hangar, and the pilots' quarters.

After a few turns, Zhang Peng led Liu Jun to the hangar below the flight deck.

"This is our hangar. All aircraft maintenance and inspections happen here."

Liu Jun swept his gaze across the massive hangar. It was filled with J-15 carrier-based aircraft, their wings folded. Among them were a few twin-seat J-15S variants, four or five newly deployed J-15Ts, and the rest were standard J-15s—including the one he'd flown in, number [189].

Several ground crew had opened the skin panels on [189] and were inspecting the cannon barrel and ammunition, wiping away the soot from the gun gas. The GSh-30-1 cannon's barrel was almost single-use; after firing its 150 rounds of ammunition, it had to be replaced. Even though Liu Jun had only fired 30 rounds, the ground crew still had to evaluate the barrel to decide whether to swap it. One crew member had crawled into the intake duct, carefully checking the engine blades for damage or fatigue.

In the sweltering heat, squeezing into the narrow intake duct was no comfortable job. But it was precisely because of the ground crew's thoroughness and care that the pilots had no worries. A unit's combat effectiveness relied entirely on logistics—and thanks to India's spectacular string of crashes, they'd given their peers a valuable lesson.