Under One Person: The Sea Emperor Who Shattered Heaven and Earth

The World Destroyer finally went to be the owner of his island.

But they only had a short time to catch their breath for less than two years.

Two years later, the port of "New World" was renovated, and its huge deep-water piers were large enough to accommodate the most advanced warships. Jiang Zhen's flag—the one bearing the word "Justice" and a crossed fist—once again appeared on the horizon.

This time, nearly 10,000 large ships set sail from the "New World," like a giant fan opening, from west to south, from south to east, and then from east to north.

But to everyone's surprise, Jiang Zhen's appetite was bigger than anyone had anticipated, and ridiculously so.

It extends from Malujia in the west to Panama in the east, from Baling Sea in the north to Cape of Good Hope in the south.

His flag was planted wherever there were islands and wherever there were shipping lanes.

Jiang Zhen returned to his old profession—the canal transport.

But this is no longer a small-scale skirmish in the old Shanghai; it is a global maritime domination.

Jiang Zhen established a new rule: all ships sailing on this sea must be under the management of the canal transport commissioner, which is only natural.

Not paying taxes?

It's fine if you don't pay. Go explain to Hai Xiao. If you can convince him, Jiang Zhen will accept it.

After witnessing once again how a small island nation openly rebelling was swept away by a tsunami, everyone learned the correct answer to that multiple-choice question.

Except for a very few countries, Jiang Zhen has a firm grip on almost all of the world's maritime trade lifelines. He can ignore the inland seas, but not the outlying seas.

The island nations that Jiang Zhen officially brought under his jurisdiction by planting his flag are located throughout the oceans, numbering more than forty.

At this moment, the influence of the Grand Canal Gang reached an unprecedented level.

……

Jiang Zhen sat on the grand seat of the New World Hotel, flipping through the global ledger that Bai Fu had handed him.

"Boss, the income these past few months—" Bai Fu stood beside him, his voice trembling slightly, a trait rarely seen in him, "is equivalent to what the entire gang used to earn in several decades. The lifeline of the entire world is in our hands. Minerals, oil, grain, cloth—anything that travels by sea has to pass through us. If we just give up, some places won't even be able to get coal for the winter."

Jiang Zhen put down the ledger and looked out the window at the bustling dock.

At this time, the new world was bustling with merchants and extraordinary individuals. This island, which was originally isolated from the world, had become an indisputable holy land in the hearts of extraordinary people all over the world, and the ultimate transit point that all but a very few countries on the global trade routes could not bypass.

All ships navigating the open sea must pay a toll here and receive a navigation permit bearing the word "Justice" and a crossed-fist symbol. Without this permit, leaving port is a gamble with one's life.

However, Jiang Zhen's actions also thoroughly aroused extreme dissatisfaction from a certain maritime hegemon since the end of the war.

Chapter 111 The Former Overlord's Response

Washington, D.C., a secret meeting room at the Pentagon.

The air was filled with the aroma of coffee and cigars, but the atmosphere here was more oppressive than a funeral.

“Gentlemen, we are losing the sea.” The members of the council looked grim.

"This is robbery! This is a blatant provocation against free trade!" A white-haired general slammed his fist on the table, making teacups clatter. "We are the victors of the war! We inherited the right to the seas. And now—our ships, merchant ships flying our flag, are forced to pay taxes to a gangster on the high seas?!"

Across the round table, the chief economic advisor adjusted his glasses, handed over a data report, and spoke in a emotionless voice:

"Gentlemen, according to statistics, the amount of 'maritime taxes' collected by Jiang Zhen has exceeded the printing speed of our printing presses. If this is not stopped—as early as next autumn, the gold and hard currency used for international settlements worldwide will flow to that isolated island called the 'New World' like the sea."

The conference room fell into a deathly silence.

Everyone knows what this means—maritime hegemony is their lifeline; controlling the sea lanes means controlling the allocation of global resources; whoever controls this sea controls the throats of hundreds of millions of merchant ships.

They had just settled into their new positions after the war, but before they could even warm their seats, someone demolished them, chair and foundation alike.

“Let’s start the war,” a senator said coldly. “Bring out our carrier strike group. The carriers were built to consolidate our maritime dominance, but they’re about to change hands before they even leave the shipyard. Focus our fire and flatten that island.”

"Go to war?" The chief analyst of the think tank slowly straightened up from his chair, letting out a short, cold laugh. "The expert group has already demonstrated it. In the waters off Tokyo, Jiang Zhen's destructive power has exceeded the scope of conventional warfare. He can create air turbulence, generate tsunamis, and trigger earthquakes. I'm afraid our soldiers won't even see his face before being swallowed by the sea."

"Where's the nuclear bomb?" another voice rang out, lower and slower.

"That's a last resort, a desperate measure to take everyone down with us." The president shook his head.

One expert said, "Who can guarantee that we can hit a target that can create cracks in the air? Our ballistic model is based on known physical rules, but the ability it has shown happens to be an exception that has not yet been incorporated into the equations. If we fail, we will be facing a completely insane 'superman' with the ability to destroy our coastal cities in an instant."

Ultimately, after a ten-hour heated debate, Congress reached a secret resolution.

Since existing modern firearms are ineffective, then new weapons must be created. A secret organization codenamed "Behemoth" was officially established, with only one core objective: to use all unconventional means to create "super soldiers" capable of confronting Jiang Zhen head-on.

Biotechnology modification, exoskeleton armor integration, militarized transplantation of superhuman abilities—all research projects that had previously been shelved due to ethical red lines were suddenly unblocked overnight, and the funding bills were signed faster than ever before.

Meanwhile, another group of top acoustics experts and physicists were secretly summoned to a certain place. Their task was to reverse-engineer Jiang Zhen's ability mechanism—to create an "anti-oscillation device" that could neutralize vibrations at the technical level through high-frequency reverse waveforms.

“Before we have a proper response, send someone to negotiate.” The president signed the document. “Establish a ‘Global Maritime Security Alliance’ and bring those four along as well.”

……

The New World (formerly Nathan Island) in the heart of the Pacific Ocean.

Unlike the anxieties outside, this place presents a wild and vibrant order.

The island's primeval forest has been cleared into a level training ground.

Jiang Zhen sat on a stone seat atop the mountain, looking down at the noisy playground. Master Feng and Bai Fu stood on either side of him.

His influence has expanded too much, and he can't rely on just himself. He needs other people to keep things in check, so the overall strength of his forces must be increased.

"Chief, the brothers are practicing very hard, but they used to practice separately, and their techniques were quite mixed. It's actually harder for them to coordinate when they're all together," Fifth Master Feng reported, scratching his head.

Jiang Zhen nodded and said, "Starting today, gather people and begin to study two directions."

He took out a piece of paper from his pocket, on which were written several large characters.

"The first direction, I call it 'Six Styles'. Finger Pistol—Concentrate all your strength into one point and strike with your fingertips. Iron Body—Harden your body instantly through the dual control of muscles and breath, for blocking and hard resistance. Paper Drawing—Dissipate excess power and sense changes in airflow the instant the opponent strikes, allowing your body to dissipate force like a piece of paper. Shave—A burst of continuous power in an instant, using extremely fast short steps to close in or dodge. Moon Walk—Create footholds by kicking in mid-air, achieving hang time and changing direction. Tempest Kick—Release a long-range air blade with an arc-shaped slash from the leg."

Bai Fu's eyes lit up as he looked at the descriptions: "This development approach... is it about treating the body as a magical artifact to be refined? It's very promising."

“The second direction, and the most important one.” Jiang Zhen stood up, his gaze sweeping across the bustling training ground below. “I call it ‘dominance’.”

"One type is 'armament color,' which is refined and applied to the body or weapons with high purity. This is not only for defense, but also to increase the power of attacks."

"The other one is 'sight color', which develops the five senses and allows one to perceive the atmosphere."

"The third type is Conqueror's Haki, the kind you've seen on me."

"Master Bai, please organize this and make some selections. For example, Li Muxuan has good talent, so let him participate as well."

"You all go and prepare first. In a few days, I will give them a big lecture on the Six Styles and Haki, so that they have an outline and then they can start studying it."

"Yes, Chief! If we master this, every one of our brothers in the Canal Gang will be a weapon in human form." Master Feng was beaming with excitement.

......

In a corner of the training ground, Li Muxuan, with a dark expression and hands behind his back, paced back and forth in front of a group of young superhumans. His current role was that of an instructor—not one he had applied for, but one that had been assigned to him.

His sour face was a natural fit for being an instructor. He only stood at the front of the group and glanced at them, and the young superhumans below immediately straightened their backs.

His daughter, Li Chan, sat under the shade of a tree not far away, holding a literacy textbook that Master Feng had found from somewhere, and was writing the new characters she had learned that day one by one on the sand.

"You're too slow!" Li Muxuan roared. "I'm not telling you to spin around in circles, I'm telling you to sense the trajectory of the enemy's fist the instant it's thrown! If you had done that, you would have been dead eight times over!"

A young superhuman complained, "Instructor Li, I can't sense him. When he attacks, I either have to dodge or defend?"

Li Muxuan sneered: "That's because you're all stupid!"

"Li Muxuan, how's your research on that 'paper painting' that Chief Jiang mentioned?" At the same time, Shuiyun walked over and asked, her tone still stiff, but with less of a murderous intent.

"I'm starting to get a clue. By sensing changes in airflow, I can make my body sway like a piece of paper in the wind. This idea is pretty good, but it's really suitable for dodging dense bullets."

"I've been researching this for a while. At first, I relied on the reversed position, and then I gradually eliminated the reversed position. Now it's basically in the beginning, but to teach these stupid little brats how to do the experiment, I still have to break down the steps."

Chapter 112 Global Maritime Security Alliance

New World, Training Ground No. 1.

To test the development results of the subsequent "Six Styles", Jiang Zhen specially approved a live-fire exercise.

One side of the exercise was the "Six Styles Class," personally trained by Li Muxuan, Shuiyun, and Changqing, while the other side consisted of extraordinary individuals who had just arrived from all over the world.

On the field, dozens of extraordinary individuals stood in a row:

A confident blond Inhuman took a step forward, flipped his hands, and two balls of flame shot up from his palms. He shouted to his dozens of companions behind him, "Brothers, let's show the King of Inhumans what we're made of!"

Before he finished speaking, he slammed his palms into the ground. A thick pillar of fire shot into the sky, followed by several fireballs the size of washbasins that separated from the pillar, roaring out with scorching heat waves.

The superhumans behind him also made their moves, and in an instant, the training ground was filled with flashes of electricity, flying sand and stones, and various colors of light.

In contrast, none of the dozen or so disciples of the "Six Styles Class" from the Cao Gang made a move.

They didn't use any fancy spells; they simply took a deep breath in unison.

"Iron block!"

In an instant, the Qi within these disciples filled every inch of their muscles like cement grout, compressing muscle fibers to the extreme, and fascia woven into a taut net on the surface of their bones.

Fireballs and lightning struck them simultaneously, but aside from sending up large plumes of sparks and blackened dust, their footprints remained completely untouched. They stood like a group of cast-iron statues in the center of a ravaged training ground.

The blond superhuman's smile froze. The flames on his hands were still burning, but his fingers trembled involuntarily.

"That's it?" The members of Class Six looked up, their gazes passing over the still-burning flames to glance at him. It wasn't a provocation, just a simple surprise. They didn't say another word, simply turning their gaze back to the person opposite them.

"It's our turn," the captain commanded in a deep voice.

"shave!"

The next second, more than a dozen dark figures vanished simultaneously, their speed too fast for the naked eye to detect. The sound of synchronized footsteps echoed across the training ground, leaving more than a dozen shallow craters in the earth. Before the rubble even hit the ground, the figures had already rushed forward.

"So fast!"

One of the superhumans instinctively released a protective shield in front of him, firmly protecting him from behind.

But he only saw one finger.

"Finger Gun - Draw!"

The Cao Gang disciple pointed his index finger straight up, concentrating all his explosive power into a single point at his fingertip, precisely piercing the protective shield.

The seemingly indestructible Qi shield shattered instantly like a soap bubble under this extremely condensed tap.

The exercise ended in less than three minutes.

A dozen or so strange people were lying down, sprawling, or even hanging upside down from the railings of the stands—they themselves didn't know how they got up there.

A superhuman who manipulated earth sat in the center of the arena, his head in his hands. On the ground in front of him lay the remains of an earthen wall he had summoned. That wall had been severed at waist level by a disciple's "Storm Kick" kick, the cut as smooth as tofu sliced ​​by a knife. He touched the cut repeatedly, pondering for a long time but still couldn't figure it out.