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

The Yellow Sea, where the high seas meet.

Beneath the vast expanse of blue waves, turbulent undercurrents surge.

A behemoth with a displacement of nearly seven thousand tons, like a cunning saltwater crocodile, silently swam three hundred meters underwater.

This is the US Navy's most prized underwater killer—the Los Angeles-class attack submarine, the USS Sea Dragon.

"Sir, this area is as clean as my grandma's dinner plate, except for a few small, unruly yellow croakers, there's nothing there."

Sonar operator Davis took off his headphones, chewed gum, and jokingly said to Captain Smith with a relaxed expression:

"Those Chinese submarines are probably still in port repairing their 'underwater tractors.' I bet if they dare to move their propellers, I could smell the diesel fuel right here in Hawaii."

A burst of laughter erupted inside the cabin, the air thick with arrogant merriment.

Captain Smith, holding a cup of hot coffee, looked at them with disdain, as if they were looking at a group of uncivilized natives: "Their Type 055 destroyers are indeed something, but what does it matter if they win on the surface? In this dark deep sea..."

He took a sip of coffee, savoring the thrill of being in control: "We are the rule-makers. If we want, we are the ever-present, unseen sword of Damocles hanging over their heads."

Just then.

Davis's smile froze, as if it had been paused.

The expected roar of an old machine did not come through the headphones.

Instead, it was an extremely faint, almost completely masked by the background white noise... a hissing sound.

It's like Death dragging his scythe, gently slicing through silk.

"Sir... wait, something's wrong." Davis tightened the earpiece on his ears again, held his breath, and a fine layer of cold sweat instantly appeared on his forehead. "Something's approaching! It's too fast! Thirty-five... God, thirty-five!"

"F**k! Nonsense!" Smith slammed his coffee cup down, splashing coffee all over his hand. "In this area, to reach 35 knots with almost no noise, you'd have to be driving God himself!"

The Soviet Alpha-class destroyers? Absolutely not! NATO's surveillance network could detect even a fly leaving the port!

"He...he's gone!" Davis's voice trembled as he screamed in terror, "Target lost on sonar! He's in our blind spot! Right behind us!"

Blind spots in submarines.

That was a small blind spot at the stern, and due to the noise interference from its own propeller, it was as if its back was completely exposed to the enemy.

"Hard to port! Activate active sonar! Quick!" Smith finally panicked, a chill running down his spine.

"Buzz—!"

The "Sea Dragon" emitted a strong active pulse signal in an attempt to find the ghost.

However, the echo has not yet returned.

All the officers and men on the submarine heard a voice that sent chills down their spines and would never be forgotten.

"Thump! Thump! Thump!"

It was a dull, powerful, rhythmic tapping sound.

It was not a sonar signal, nor was it an impact from marine life.

Instead, it was the sound of someone knocking on their proudly high-strength steel shell with a hard object!

"My God! He is outside us!"

Davis was so terrified that he slid off his chair and onto the floor, his face as pale as if he'd just been pulled out of a formaldehyde tank. "Someone...someone is banging on our submarine hull!"

At that moment, Smith felt like his spine was about to explode and his blood was running backwards.

At a high-pressure depth of 300 meters, while driving at tens of knots, someone leans close to your back and gently knocks on the door next to your ear.

This is too eerie!

What does this mean?

This means that the other side could, at any time, stuff a torpedo into their propeller, or simply ram them, sending them and their boat to meet their maker!

The scariest thing is that, even now, they don't even know if the other side is round or flat!

"Sizzle—"

Just as the American soldiers were in a state of extreme panic and their sanity was plummeting, a magnetic yet utterly mocking male voice suddenly cut in on the public radio channel.

He speaks with a half-baked, yet incredibly sarcastic London accent.

"Hello, Captain Smith."

"Can you hear me? The signal's pretty good, right?"

"Don't be nervous, I'm He Yuzhu, the one who brought you the 'surprise'."

"I've seen you wandering around this area for too long, like headless flies. I was afraid you'd get lost, so I came here to give you directions."

The voice on the radio paused, then added with a hint of amusement: "By the way, the person who knocked on the door just now was one of our special forces soldiers. He said the anechoic tiles on your submarine aren't very well applied; they feel too rough. He suggested you go back to the manufacturer and return them, and give them a bad review."

"Now, you have three minutes."

"Hard to port, turn around, and get out of this area as fast as you can!"

"otherwise……"

His voice suddenly turned cold, carrying a chilling murderous intent:

"Stay here to feed the turtles!"

"Three, two..."

"Clatter!"

The expensive coffee cup in Smith's hand shattered into pieces.

"Who...who is he? He Yuzhu? That 'Madman He' who captured Lieutenant General Walker and forced the Enterprise to retreat?!"

"Sir! We've been locked on! They've opened the torpedo tubes! They're serious!" the adjutant cried out in despair, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

"Run! Run!"

Smith practically screamed, his gentlemanly demeanor completely gone, "Full speed back! Get out of here! Get away from these devils!!"

The "Hailong" was like a frightened wild boar, desperately turning around and fleeing. The roar of its engines was so loud that it sounded like a scream. It didn't even care about the usual concealment procedures and was as pathetic as a stray dog.

And behind them.

In that dark, lifeless sea, as deep as an abyss.

The massive, heavily modified "Changzheng-1" nuclear submarine hovered there silently, like a deep-sea behemoth, coldly watching its prey flee.

He Yuzhu stood in front of the control panel, toying with a walkie-talkie in his hand, a cold smile curving his lips, his eyes full of mockery.

Behind him, Elder Huang and a group of naval officers and soldiers were looking at him with an almost fanatical adoration.

That was so satisfying!

This is downright dimensional destruction!

"Chief Engineer, shall we stop chasing?" Zhang Xiaowu asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement, still wanting more.

"Let's not chase them anymore. They're like frightened birds; if we scare them any more, they'll wet their pants."

He Yuzhu turned around, patted the thick bulkhead of the submarine, and felt the faint tremor coming from the "heart"—the pulse of power.

"Our journey has only just begun."

"Xiao Wu, send a telegram home."

"Just like the 'rats' underwater have been cleaned up, this sea is now clean."

"We will now proceed to the East China Sea to test its extreme data."

"East China Sea?!"

Old Huang was taken aback, and subconsciously reminded him, "That's a sensitive area... there are quite a few eyes watching from there!"

"sensitive?"

He Yuzhu strode towards the command tower, his back as straight as a mountain, his tone calm yet exuding domineering power:

"What's so sensitive about taking a stroll in front of your own yard?"

"Xiao Wu, relay my order! Notify the naval base that the Type 055 'Nanchang' is to provide flanking escort and proceed at full speed!"

"Let those blind fools see what it means to say, 'If Kou can go, so can I!'"

At this moment, He Yuzhu was unaware that hundreds of kilometers away in the sea, a bloody battle between integrity and despicable behavior was quietly unfolding.