Siheyuan: I, Shazhu, started out as an army and became a general.

Dark clouds loom over the South China Sea, and war clouds gather.

The USS Enterprise carrier strike group, like a moving steel island, continues to arrogantly cut through the waves on the sea.

In the bridge command room, Admiral Felt was in an excessively good mood.

The F-4 fighter jets that just flew ahead reported that the Chinese Air Force's outdated aircraft only dared to fly within the airspace boundary, and didn't even dare to cross the line.

"See? This is the deterrent power of a great power." Felt swirled his coffee cup, a sneer playing on his lips, and said to his adjutant, "As long as our aircraft carrier moves this way, they'll be like tigers with their teeth pulled, unable to do anything but roar in their cages."

Before he could finish speaking, the radar room suddenly erupted in chaos.

"Sir! The radar screen is experiencing severe interference! It's just static!"

"Interference?" Felt frowned, putting down his coffee cup. "When did the Chinese electronic warfare capabilities become so advanced?"

"Wait! Something in the clutter! A strong signal!" The radar officer's voice suddenly rose, even cracking slightly. "Bearing 330, distance 200 nautical miles! Extremely fast! Number... six!"

"Six large aircraft?" Felt's heart skipped a beat, a sense of foreboding washing over him. "Could they be bombers? Have they gone mad? Sending six bombers to be targets for my fleet?"

Despite his confusion, he instinctively waved his hand: "Take off the interceptors! Get these flies away! If they don't heed the warning, then..."

Felt paused, a ruthless glint in his eyes. "Just take it down! Let them know who owns this sea!"

"yes!"

Steam filled the deck.

Four F-4 Phantom fighter jets, loaded with live ammunition, roared and tore through the air as they flew towards the target airspace, accompanied by the roar of the catapults.

……

At 10,000 meters above the ground, the wind was as cold as a knife.

Inside the cockpit, Li Hai listened to the piercing "beep beep" of the radar alarm, the countdown to death as he was locked on by the fire control radar.

But he remained expressionless, as if he were only hearing an alarm clock.

"Brothers, the US watchdogs are here," Li Hai said calmly over the channel, his voice as steady as a rock. "Keep formation, ignore them. We only have one target—the aircraft carrier."

"Understood! We will complete the mission to the death!"

Soon, four F-4 fighter jets painted with U.S. military insignia surrounded them menacingly, like sharks smelling blood.

Relying on their superior performance, they recklessly provoked the H-6 formation.

It rolled, performed high-G maneuvers, and even opened its afterburner to cut directly in front of the H-6's nose, attempting to break up the bomber formation with its high-temperature exhaust.

On the public address system, the arrogant and harsh warning from the US military pilot rang out:

"Chinese Air Force! You have approached the absolute defense perimeter of the US fleet! Turn around immediately! Repeat, turn around immediately! Otherwise, we will open fire and shoot you down!"

Li Hai turned his head and coldly looked out the window at the F-4 that was so close at hand.

Through the canopy, he could even see the mocking eyes of the American pilot beneath his oxygen mask, and the raised middle finger.

Provocation? Humiliation?

Li Hai smirked and pressed the call button.

"Screw your defense perimeter! This is the South China Sea! It's my backyard!"

Before he finished speaking, Li Hai suddenly pushed the control stick, and the massive H-6, like a nimble swift, made an extremely dangerous side-sliding maneuver, managing to avoid the opponent's wake interference.

The next second, his voice boomed across the channel, carrying a resolute killing intent:

"01 calling, all personnel! Open the bomb bay doors! Show the Americans what you've got!"

"Roger that! Open the magazine!"

With a muffled hiss of the hydraulic system, the two huge bomb bay doors on the underside of the six H-6 bombers slowly slid open to the sides.

Sunlight streamed into the dark magazine, illuminating the massive machine gun lying quietly on its rack.

It is entirely silver-white, with a slender body, and the most eye-catching feature is the striking red paint ring on the warhead.

It was thus laid bare in the sunlight, exposed to the sight of American pilots, exuding a suffocating aura of death.

As the U.S. military wing pilot Jack was preparing to perform another stunt to scare the group of "old fogies," he suddenly caught a glimpse of the bomb out of the corner of his eye.

He froze instantly, his brain going blank for a moment.

What the hell is that?

That unique streamlined design, that breathtaking size, and that damn paint job…

As an elite pilot who grew up in the shadow of nuclear war during the Cold War, the shape of this thing is etched into his DNA.

"My God..."

Jack's voice instantly changed, like a rooster being choked, filled with unprecedented terror, "That's...that's a nuclear bomb! That's a hydrogen bomb!!"

"Calling for mothership! Calling for mothership! My God! Target is carrying what appears to be a nuclear weapon! Repeat! It's a nuclear weapon!!"

"They've opened the bomb bay! These lunatics are going to drop the bombs!!"

At that moment, Jack felt like his scalp was about to explode, and cold sweat instantly soaked through his flight suit.

He just danced next to a hydrogen bomb that could wipe out the world at any moment? And he even gave the middle finger?

Have these Chinese people gone mad?!

If this thing explodes, not only will the carrier battle group below be reduced to ashes, but even these aircraft will be instantly vaporized!

"What?!"

A crisp sound rang out in the Enterprise's command center.

The exquisite cup of coffee in General Felt's hand shattered with a "crack," scalding liquid splashing all over the floor, but he was completely unaware.

"A nuclear bomb? Are you sure you didn't see that right? Are you out of your mind, Jack?!"

"It's true, sir! That shape is exactly the same as the Soviet-made hydrogen bomb in our intelligence database!" Jack's voice was trembling with obvious sobs, a primal fear of death. "They're still closing in! Only 80 nautical miles from the fleet! They're already within bombing range!!"

boom!

Felt felt a chill run from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head, as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

If it were a conventional bomb, or even a heavy aerial bomb, he would have a hundred ways to blow those six bombers to pieces.

But that's a nuclear bomb! A hydrogen bomb!

What if it explodes during the shooting process?

What if they really came with the intention of taking everyone down with them?

That's six nuclear warheads! If the yield is even slightly large, it could boil not only an aircraft carrier battle group, but half of the Pacific Ocean!

"Sir! What should we do? Should we fire?" The fire control officer's finger hovered over the red launch button, trembling violently, his face ashen.

The command center was deathly silent, everyone staring at the six unwavering, ever-approaching dots on the radar screen.

Those weren't airplanes; they were six swords of Damocles hanging overhead, the scythe of death.

bet?

Are we gambling with the lives of tens of thousands of men in the Seventh Fleet that these Chinese wouldn't dare to throw them away?

Felt swallowed hard; his throat felt as dry as if he had swallowed a handful of sand.

He can't afford to gamble.

Nobody dared to gamble.

"No...don't fire..." Felt gritted his teeth, his voice hoarse like a broken bellows, his once straight back instantly hunching over. "Connect to their channel! Quick! I need to talk to them!"