Chapter Eleven: A Terrifying Revelation Upon Reflection

"Boss, where do you think we are now?" Wuyun asked, staring wide-eyed as he lay on the two-meter-long, 1.2-meter-wide bunk in the cabin.

"Hard to say. Perhaps we've cleared the Huangbo continental shelf and are approaching the first sonar net?" Lei Dong replied after a quick mental calculation.

Once a submarine dives, the concept of day and night vanishes, replaced by a schedule dictated by standard Hanjing time. This massive underwater behemoth was remarkably quiet. During past training, the team had served on nuclear submarines that were so noisy you could hear them from miles away. Whether it was due to a new type of nuclear reactor or some other innovation, this Pangu-class sub reduced even the roar of the cooling system to a faint, dull hum.

It had been over five hours since departure. The submarine wasn't moving at full speed; instead, it glided at about 15 knots, following a deep oceanic trench along the Huangbo continental shelf. At this pace, they were likely positioned between the Huangbo shelf and the East Sea abyssal plain—the very region where the Minya Federation and the Jepanese Empire had jointly deployed their "Sea Dragon" underwater sonar defense line.

Decades ago, during the Cold War, the Minya Federation—haunted by the scars of two world wars and obsessed with maintaining underwater superiority—had established fixed acoustic surveillance systems in several key maritime zones. These acoustic sensor arrays, spread across the seabed, rock formations, and continental shelves, formed an interconnected, comprehensive underwater monitoring network.

Facing the Republic in the Peace Ocean, there were three such systems. The first, the "Sea Dragon," stretched along the "First Island Chain," running from the Jepanese archipelago in the north to the Philip Islands in the south, effectively encircling the Republic's offshore waters. The second, "Sea Spider," and the third, "Giant," covered nearly the entire northern Peace Ocean.

During the brief honeymoon period in the 70s and 80s when the Republic stood with the Minya Federation against the Susi Federation, parts of these systems had been deactivated. However, as the Republic rose in power, they were brought back online. The Jepanese Empire, possessing world-class anti-submarine capabilities, joined in, creating an even tighter surveillance web.

According to Chen Jianhong, who had just left, the Republic’s submarine forces had only managed to identify a few minute gaps in this system after countless designs, probes, and tests, ensuring a safe passage for this voyage.

What Chen didn't know—as Lei Dong had explained to his team before departure—was that the Republic had exploited the frequent provocations from several small nations in the South Sea to increase the activity frequency of its South Sea Fleet submarines. They had intentionally exposed weaknesses to serve as a distraction, drawing the attention of the Minya and Jepanese forces to create more room for the Hanjing's secret departure.

Despite this, Lei Dong remained anxious. It was better to be safe than sorry. He looked at his team with a sense of helplessness; Wuyun and Song Jingang were lounging on their bunks, legs crossed, chatting idly as if they hadn't a care in the world.

"Aren't you guys worried at all?" Lei Dong couldn't help but ask.

Song Jingang curled his lip, switched which leg was crossed, and scoffed, "What’s there to worry about? The captain knows his stuff—"

"Exactly," Wuyun chimed in impatiently. "That guy is a real beast... looks just like a silverback gorilla!"

Song Jingang, sleeping on the bunk below Wuyun, immediately kicked the underside of the upper bunk. "Damn it, are you looking for a fight? You're the gorilla! You're the beast!"

Wuyun laughed heartily. "Did I say it was you? Did I? Hahaha, why are you getting so worked up? Besides, it’s not like you could beat me anyway..."

Watching the rowdy team, Lei Dong could only shake his head and sigh at their thick-skinned nerves.

Amidst the banter, Wuyun suddenly sighed, his face falling. "Damn, now that I think about it, I am a bit worried..."

"Oh, how novel," Song Jingang remarked. "The guy with nerves thicker than a cable and a face thicker than a city wall is actually worried?"

Wuyun rolled his eyes, told him to get lost, and muttered gloomily, "Just thinking that in two days we'll be shot out of a torpedo tube makes my skin crawl..."

The team burst into laughter.

While not everyone had performed a special mission via submarine before, this kind of training was essential for every special forces operative. Torpedo tubes are generally only fifty to sixty centimeters in diameter. Cramming inside with full gear—whether lying flat or on your side—is agonizingly uncomfortable, enough to make your muscles itch.

Yet, it was the only way to exit the sub. As the others groaned, Wuyun started squirming on his bunk. Lei Dong sighed, "I’m not afraid of the torpedo tubes. I’m afraid of dealing with the Jepanese."

The team was stunned. What was scary about dealing with the Jepanese? Everyone had undergone intensive training and spoke the language flawlessly, without a hint of a foreign accent. Plus, they were all Easterners; they looked no different. If things got tense, they could just play dumb.

Lei Dong didn't keep them waiting long. "I just think the Jepanese names are so bizarre, I can't help but laugh when I think about them. What if I lose my composure and give us away?" He let out a long, dramatic sigh.

"Jepanese names?" The team paused for three seconds before breaking into snickers.

The most popular, albeit mocking, legend about Jepanese surnames was quite absurd. It was said that because the Jepanese were so warlike in ancient times, all the young men were conscripted, leaving no time for marriage or children, leading to a population decline. A ruler supposedly issued a policy allowing men to mate with any woman, anywhere, to boost birth rates. Thus, Jepanese women got used to "anytime, anywhere" encounters, eventually carrying pillows and sheets with them—the origin of the "kimono." Because men would often rush back to the front before giving their names, the children born were given surnames based on where they were conceived: "Inoue" (Above the Well), "Tanaka" (Middle of the Field), "Matsushita" (Under the Pine), "Takeshita" (Under the Bamboo), "Watanabe" (By the Crossing), "Yamaguchi" (Mountain Entrance), "Kadota" (Rice Field Gate), "Kondo" (Near the Shrine), and so on.

"Damn," Lei Dong suppressed a laugh. "I mean, surnames like 'Inside the Universe' or 'Under the Roof' are one thing, but what about 'Temple Gate' or 'Monk's Hut'? What were their ancestors doing in the temples?"

"And what about 'Soy Sauce' as a surname? What’s up with that? Or 'Little Butt' and 'Shady Place'?" Wuyun added, clearly interested.

"There's even 'Five Ghosts Help' or 'Five Ghosts Work'... damn, the more you think about it, the creepier it gets," Lang Tianyu, who had been maintaining a cool, stoic image, suddenly interjected. His trembling act sent the team into roars of laughter.

"Damn it, this is getting out of hand!" Lei Dong smirked.

***

"Diving to 400 meters," Chen Jianhong ordered.

"Aye, diving to 400 meters," the navigator repeated. The submarine began its slow descent. After hours of navigating the narrow trench, the *Hanjing* had cleared the continental shelf and entered the abyssal plain, where it could finally sink to greater depths.

Further ahead, the sub would enter the East Sea basin, where it would dive into the thermocline at about 500 meters. The complex currents, water quality, and density would effectively disrupt sound propagation, while the cold, dense water would insulate against infrared and magnetic anomaly detection. With the aid of new anti-sonar devices, the *Hanjing* would silently penetrate all surveillance and obstacles.

The command headquarters placed immense importance on this mission. After receiving strict orders that failure was not an option, Chen Jianhong had spent an entire day hunched over the charts, comparing current, terrain, and weather data before finalizing the route.

To ensure success, this massive, state-of-the-art strategic nuclear submarine would not take the heavily guarded Gugong Strait. Instead, it would travel from the Huangbo Sea southeast across the vast East Sea, pierce the First Island Chain, and then turn west in the East Sea basin to strike directly at the eastern coast of the Jepanese Empire.

Though the route was longer, it had fewer enemy blind spots. Compared to the sonar-dense Gugong Strait, this path offered better security.

Still, Chen wondered who these "new guests" were and what their mission could be. To require the *Hanjing* and demand such perfection? Chen was dying of curiosity. But as a veteran soldier, he knew the iron rule: never ask what you aren't supposed to know. It made his skin crawl.

"Diving to 400 meters!" The navigator's report cut through his thoughts.

For older submarines, 400 meters was a combat depth limit, where the immense pressure would make the hull groan and creak. For the *Hanjing*, this depth had almost no effect.

Chen Jianhong straightened up. "Course 2-9-0, full speed! Activate the anti-sonar auxiliary system!"

"Aye, course 2-9-0, full speed! Activating anti-sonar auxiliary system!"

As the sub accelerated, it seemed to get even quieter.

Having handed command to the navigator, Chen left the bridge for his quarters. There sat a small safe delivered before their departure, destined for the "guests" when they disembarked—a safe only they could open. Guarding that box, his eyes drifting toward the direction of the guests' cabin a few dozen meters away, Chen felt he was one step closer to the secret.