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

Jiang Zhen, standing on the high platform, withdrew his gaze and nodded to Bai Fu: "Standardized things are indeed more suitable for group operations. Let them continue to capture them. I want every brother to be able to dance with moonwalk in the midst of gunfire."

……

The day after the exercise ended, the Global Maritime Security Alliance's envoy fleet arrived in the New World.

The first thing the lookouts on the port saw was the joint flag on the flagpole—five different colored national flags hanging side by side on a single rope, fluttering in the sea breeze.

Because of Jiang Zhen's maritime taxes, island nations around the world, who had long suffered under his rule, joined the alliance one after another.

Although the organization encompasses nearly a hundred countries, only five are truly qualified to step into the New World Council and sit opposite Jiang Zhen.

The meeting room is located in the council hall under the sacred tree, with good ventilation on all sides and a direct view of the vast sea in the distance.

Jiang Zhen, wearing his signature "Justice" overcoat, sat in the main seat, chin in hand. As the five representatives took their seats, his gaze swept across each face, pausing briefly on the face of the Dragon Kingdom representative, a faint smile appearing on his face.

That was an old acquaintance who had delivered the letter to him in Shanghai. Those words, "Things in Shanghai and the canal transport are all negotiable," were all handed to him by this person.

The representative from the Dragon Kingdom nodded slightly, a hint of emotion in his eyes.

“Mr. Jiang, now that everyone is here, let’s begin.” The representative from the United States spoke first. His name was Chris, and he had been observing Jiang Zhen’s every move.

The next three days were filled with endless wrangling.

The negotiations were extremely difficult, but also extremely swift.

Jiang Zhen knew perfectly well that this "violent tax collection" was a means of establishing his authority. To maintain long-term control over the sea, he would eventually have to establish a stable order.

Robbery money only brings temporary pleasure, while taxes collected through proper means can sustain you for a lifetime.

After three days of repeated negotiations, the five nations finally reached a consensus:

Establishment of fixed waterways: The New World will designate major safe waterways around the world, and legal merchant ships sailing within these waterways will only need to pay a service fee based on their tonnage.

Fees are clearly marked and no longer subject to arbitrary on-site estimates by New World staff.

Recognition of sovereignty: The member states of the Union accepted the "New World" as an independent maritime administrative area.

The Sea Power Tribunal: The arbitration body for sea power disputes is located in the New World. All disputes concerning sea power are decided by a vote of one person from five countries, with Jiang Zhen holding two votes.

Once this agreement is signed, Jiang Zhen's identity will change from "maritime robber" to "global maritime arbitrator"—both identities do the same thing, but the former is vulgar and offensive, while the latter can be printed on the top of international documents.

On the last day of the meeting, the atmosphere seemed to have eased considerably.

The representatives from various countries put away the documents and said to Jiang Zhen, "Mr. Jiang, we hope this agreement can bring peace back to the sea."

Jiang Zhen smiled and said, "The sea has been calm the whole time."

At this moment, the representatives of the three countries exchanged glances, and then all looked at Chris, the representative of the United States, who had not said much.

Chris stood up, straightened his suit, and walked up to Jiang Zhen:

“Mr. Jiang, maritime security is of paramount importance, and we are well aware of your capabilities. However, as you know, there are still many people in this world who have not witnessed your abilities firsthand. They still have doubts about the feasibility of this agreement.”

Jiang Zhen raised an eyebrow: "So?"

"For the long-term stable development of the alliance, and to ensure that all member states can fulfill the agreement without any doubt," Chris fixed his gaze on Jiang Zhen's face, paused for a moment, and then slowly delivered his sentence, "Our country is preparing to hold a large-scale naval military exercise in a designated area of ​​the Western Pacific. I wonder if Mr. Jiang and your New World would be interested in participating in this exercise?"

The moment those words were spoken, the temperature in the conference room dropped two degrees. The representative from China frowned slightly, but quickly regained his composure. The representatives from the other countries all lowered their heads to look at the documents in front of them, and no one spoke.

They knew this segment would come—but they didn't want to have any unnecessary presence in it.

Chris cursed inwardly, "Damn it, didn't you guys say last night that you'd join the raid as soon as I started it? Why aren't you saying a word now?"

Jiang Zhen stood up, walked to the edge of the balcony, and looked at the raging waves outside.

"An exercise?" Jiang Zhen turned around, revealing a bright smile that sent chills down Chris's spine. "Okay."

"You choose the location, you decide the time."

Jiang Zhen walked up to Chris, his tall figure casting a shadow.

"But there's one thing I need to remind you of. The ammunition for the exercise is very expensive. If you get sunk to the bottom of the sea, don't expect me to compensate you."

Chris, forcing himself not to back down, nodded and said, "There's no need for Mr. Jiang to trouble himself with that. We will send the invitation to the New World in the Western Pacific in two months."

After the delegation left, Bai Fu approached with some concern.

"Boss, it's probably not right for the United States to openly challenge us this time."

Master Feng also came over, patting the long sword at his waist with a nonchalant air: "What's there to be afraid of! When the time comes, the gang leader will be in front to intimidate us, and we brothers will charge from behind."

Jiang Zhen watched the fleet of ships sail away into the distance.

"It doesn't matter, two months from now..."

Jiang Zhen raised his right hand, his five fingers slowly closing. A faint crack in the air flashed between his fingers, emitting a very thin and low sound, like the soft shattering of glass.

"The whole world will know. Who really calls the shots on this sea?"

Chapter 113 Throw a punch first, then see if he dies.

A secret research base deep underground in a certain state of the United States.

This is the core laboratory of "Behemoth".

General Ron, dressed in a specially designed protective suit, stood behind a huge protective glass window, coldly looking down at the experimental field.

In the center of the experimental field stood a bio-engineered soldier. He was shirtless, and from his collarbone to his waist were bulging blue veins. These were not normal vein patterns, but rather a type of vein that had mutated and proliferated after being repeatedly soaked in a drug.

Three rows of metal connectors were implanted in his spine, each connected to a cable about the thickness of a thumb. The other end of the cable was embedded in the interface slot of the heavy exoskeleton armor. When the armor was not activated, it was a dull iron gray color, and the hydraulic rods at the joints expanded and contracted slightly with each breath, emitting a barely audible air pressure sound.

“Begin the test,” Ron ordered.

The giant speaker arrays surrounding the experimental field activated simultaneously. A low-frequency roar surged from deep within the walls; initially, it was just a feeling of pressure that could be felt in the chest, but soon even the field of vision began to tremble…

Ron's gaze was fixed on the other side of the bulletproof glass. The bio-soldier began to tremble violently from the first wave of the simulated tremors.

His muscles lost coordination in the shockwave, sparks flew from the interfaces of his exoskeleton armor, and blue arcs of electricity snaked like runaway snakes from his spine to his shoulders and back to his lumbar vertebrae. His legs lost their support in the third second, and he was forced to kneel on one knee, his kneecap slamming against the steel plate with a dull thud.

"Report! Anti-vibration exoskeleton overloaded! Reverse waveform shift!"

Three minutes later, the shockwave stopped, and the bio-soldier knelt on the ground, vomiting blood, with black smoke billowing from his exoskeleton armor.

"Success!" The chief scientist rushed to the data terminal with a face full of excitement. "General! Under the low-frequency conditions of three percent of the sound wave vibration frequency that simulated the destruction of Tokyo, we successfully saved the experimental subject's life! This is the first time in human history that a survivor has been spared in the face of 'vibration'!"

Ron's face was as black as the bottom of a pot. He turned to look at the chief scientist, and that look instantly cooled the latter's excitement as if it had been doused with ice water.

"You get billions of dollars allocated to you, and you call that a success? When Jiang Zhen was in Tokyo, it was just a casual gesture, and he seemed completely unconcerned afterward. You expect him to only put in three percent of his effort to shake your hand on the battlefield? And you call that low-frequency?!"

"Or are you hoping that when a fight breaks out, he'll give you a written application telling you how much force he's going to use?"

The scientist paused, cold sweat pouring down his face: "Science always has to be done step by step... and current materials can't withstand higher frequencies. At least this live data can help us correct the inverse waveform."

“Enough.” Ron interrupted him, his eyes cold. “You bunch of trash don’t deserve to be dragged out and humiliated. Let the carrier strike group handle it.”

Even within the United States itself, the chances of winning this exercise were slim. Seventeen rounds of simulations were conducted, and all seventeen were lost. However, the most important purpose of continuing the exercise was never to win, but to collect data.

As long as we can obtain Jiang Zhen's shockwave fingerprints, power curves, and frequency characteristics from actual combat, this data will be the cornerstone for future weaponized counterattacks. We'll spare no expense for this.

As for whether losing would affect the people and cause emotional distress, they are not worried. They have ways to deal with it. If things really become too precarious, they can always raise the Stars and Stripes. The great mission of the nation and its special position on the international stage promise to do everything possible to build a prosperous future. This tactic always works.

The Behemoth project has only spent a small fraction of the total budget; the real money-burning bill will be in the Western Pacific.

Two months passed in the blink of an eye.

The whole world seemed to fall into an eerie silence. All sea lanes became empty, and merchant ships returned to port one after another, awaiting the "rehearsal" that would determine the landscape of the next century.

Western media launched a frenzied propaganda campaign. Headlines on the front page became more sensational each day—"World Destroyer: He Can Destroy Tokyo and the Maritime Order," "The New World: The Countdown to the End of a Gangster Empire," "The Fleet of the Free World Has Assembled; The Bottom Line of Civilization Cannot Be Trampled."

Countless capitalists and island nation leaders, fed up with paying taxes, opened their wallets in response to these front-page rallies.

Donations poured in like snowflakes, but most were anonymous. The total amount made the finance minister raise his eyebrows in surprise.

They longed to see that man completely eliminated, and the United States readily accepted the astronomical donation with a smile.

For them, this exercise was an expensive experiment, and since someone was willing to pay for this "experiment"—why not?

Western Pacific, high seas.

The once empty sea was now filled with a dense array of steel behemoths. The United States had formed the largest combined fleet in its history—an aircraft carrier at the rear, and in front of it, a dense array of destroyers, cruisers, and submarines.

Countless extraordinary individuals from all over the world were watching the battle.

This so-called "maritime security exercise" is, as anyone can see, just a polite way of putting it.

The US military knew that none of its generals wanted to go, so they ultimately turned their attention to those who still clung to outdated ideas.

Colonel Chris stood in front of the flagship's command window, watching the data jumping on the monitoring screen. He was a staunch believer in technology; he believed in data, parameters, and the absolute power of steel and gunpowder.

"Even gods must bow down before technology, let alone a mortal."

Just then, the radar alarms went off incessantly.

On the other side of the horizon, a colossal figure emerged from the fog.

That was the flagship of the new world—the "Zhenhai".

The massive hull retains its retro wood grain, yet exudes a luster even more profound than that of fine steel.

This is a monster that Ma Ben has been working on day and night with "Divine Refinement" - every piece of the ship's hull has been repeatedly hammered and forged by the art of weapon refining, and the wood has gone beyond the category of "wood". There are no rivets or welds on the deck, and every joint is locked by Qi pattern restrictions, like a whole piece of living giant wood being carved into the shape of a ship.

Jiang Zhen stood with his hands behind his back at the bow of the ship, his white "Justice" coat fluttering in the gale. Behind him followed only a hundred elite members of the Canal Gang, who looked ridiculously frail in front of the combined fleet of the Huaqi Kingdom opposite.

"Boss, with this kind of 'formation,' I wonder if they've pulled out all the money they've saved for their coffins." Master Feng squinted, rubbing the hilt of his knife at his waist.

"A rich family makes a loud noise when it breaks down."

Jiang Zhen opened his eyes, his gaze sharp and fixed on the aircraft carrier group.

"Fifth Master, raise the flag to its highest point. Tell them we've arrived."

"This is the United States Joint Fleet." A cold warning voice came through the walkie-talkie. "Mr. Jiang Zhen, please stop your ship immediately five nautical miles away! Accept our radio frequency detection and security inspection."

"Did we give them face?"

Jiang Zhen snorted coldly and slowly raised his right hand.

"Let's throw a punch and see if he dies first."

He brought his five fingers together and gave a slight tremor in the air in front of him.

In that instant, the surrounding seabirds scattered in terror, and the originally turbulent sea surface strangely calmed down for a second.

"Snap—!"

The atmosphere, which had been completely empty, suddenly cracked open like a transparent mirror, revealing a huge fissure.