Solving the case: Combining the police dog's olfactory genes at the beginning

"B-7788, you have entered the Osaka Air Defense Identification Zone. You have not obtained entry permission, have not submitted a flight plan, and have refused to answer our repeated inquiries."

This is our final demand that you immediately change course and return to your origin; otherwise, we will take coercive measures, including the use of force, in accordance with our domestic law. I repeat—”

Luo Fei released the call button before he could finish speaking.

He glanced at the F-35s on either side of the porthole. The two planes had been following him for nearly twenty minutes, from long-range surveillance at the beginning to close-range cover now, getting closer and closer, and their behavior becoming more and more aggressive.

The pilot of the F-35 on the left kept gesturing to him with his hand – his palm outstretched and pressed down, which is the internationally recognized "lower altitude and follow me" gesture.

The aircraft on the right was positioned at a slightly higher elevation, with its missile pylons clearly visible under its wings—a standard position for suppressing fire.

Luo Fei knew that the two planes hadn't fired yet not because they were afraid, but because they weren't sure what was on his plane.

If his plane was carrying a large amount of explosives and was shot down, exploding on Japanese soil, the situation would be far more serious than shooting down a civilian business jet.

So they are waiting, waiting for the higher-ups to make the final judgment, waiting for the ground air defense forces to enter the best interception position, waiting for him to make one last irreparable mistake.

Luo Fei glanced at the flight data on the navigation screen. The current course had crossed the 140-degree east longitude line and entered the edge of the airspace over Honshu Island in Japan.

Geographically, he is about 350 kilometers away from Fujisan in Lixian County. At his current cruising speed of Mach 0.85, it will take him about 30 more minutes.

Thirty minutes.

Luo Fei silently did the math in his mind.

Thirty minutes is enough time for Japan to do a lot—the Patriot missile system on the ground has already locked on, the F-35s in the air have entered attack positions, there might be an E-2D early warning aircraft watching it from somewhere high in the sky, and there might be more fighter jets being called in from a more distant base to form multiple waves of interception.

One person, one plane, facing a country's air defense system, his chances of winning are infinitely close to zero.

But he never intended to win.

From the moment he hijacked the plane, he never thought he could escape unscathed from Japan's air defense system.

His task was singular: to fly the plane to the top of Mount Fuji and then do something no one had ever considered from the most opportune moment.

He didn't tell anyone about this. Not even his wife.

Luo Fei flipped his phone back over, pointing the front-facing camera at his face.

The scarred face reappeared on the screen before more than 80 million viewers—broad cheekbones, square chin, single eyelids, a not-so-high nose bridge, and somewhat thick lips; the features together looked rather ordinary.

But those eyes were different. There was something in those eyes that was hard to describe, like a fire that had been burning for a very long time. On the surface, you could no longer see any flames, but underneath, the embers were glowing red.

“I just heard them say ‘final ultimatum’,” Luo Fei said to the camera, his tone still unhurried, as if he were talking about something that had nothing to do with him. “It means that if we don’t return to base, they’re going to open fire.”

He paused for a moment, glanced at the screen, and saw the anxious comments.

"Captain Luo, you'd better turn back quickly, don't engage in a direct confrontation!"

"Revenge can wait; first, come back alive."

"These people from Japan are really daring to open fire; they're unreasonable."

"Captain Luo, don't be impulsive. As long as we're alive, we can always fight another day."

Luo Fei looked at the comments and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

"Return to base?"

He shook his head. "If I turn back now, where to? To Great Xia? Although Great Xia has rescinded the order to shoot me down, I'll still be a wanted criminal if I go back. To another country? I don't have that much fuel."

"And when I flew this plane out, I had no intention of going back."

These words were spoken casually, but to everyone who heard them, they were like a muffled thunderclap in their hearts.

I have no plans to go back.

The weight of those four words pressed heavily on the chests of everyone watching the live stream, making it hard to breathe.

Luo Fei didn't explain further. He reached for the center console in the cockpit and reconfirmed the coordinates of the destination on the navigation screen.

He had entered those coordinates countless times—35 degrees 21 minutes 39 seconds north latitude, 138 degrees 43 minutes 51 seconds east longitude.

Those are the precise coordinates of the Fuji crater in Naga Prefecture, at an altitude of 3,776 meters. You can climb up the Gotemba trail to the rock at the edge of the crater.

The difference is that others crawl on their feet, but he flies in an airplane.

"My destination in Japan is Rinka Prefecture," Luo Fei said, looking at the small red dot on the navigation screen. His voice was as steady as if he were reporting a routine training plan. "There is a mountain there called Mount Fuji."

As you all know, that mountain is an active volcano that has been dormant for over 300 years, and geological experts have been monitoring its activity.

Recent data shows that magma pressure inside Mount Fuji is steadily increasing, and the frequency of small earthquakes around the crater is also rising, leading some to believe it could erupt at any time.

He zoomed in on the navigation coordinates, and a detailed topographic map of the Mount Fuji area appeared on the screen.

From an altitude of 11,000 meters, the crater of Mount Fuji resembles a giant eye, silently embedded in the central mountainous region of Honshu Island, surrounded by towns in Nagashi and Shizuoka prefectures. Hundreds of thousands of people live peacefully under the gaze of this eye, day after day.

"My flight will end at the crater of Mount Fuji."

After Luo Fei finished speaking, a smile curved his lips, appearing on his scarred face like a bolt of lightning suddenly flashing across the night.

"I've come here to add fuel to the fire of this volcano."

After a two-second silence, the live chat exploded.

After Luo Fei said those words, the comments in the live stream exploded like a bucket of cold water poured into a boiling oil pan.

"Add fuel to the fire of a volcano???"

"Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, is he going to crash into Mount Fuji?"

"I knew it! That's why he kept flying towards Lixian County – Mount Fuji is right there in Lixian County!"

"He's gone mad! He's really gone mad, Captain Luo! Don't scare me!"

"Impacting a volcano??? Hitting a volcano with a plane???"

"He's going to detonate Mount Fuji!!! That volcano is active!!!" "I've heard that Japan is concealing data on Mount Fuji's activity; they've been suppressing the news."

"If Mount Fuji were to erupt, the entire Honshu island of Japan would be doomed."

The discussion in the live chat grew increasingly heated, with more and more people realizing just how crazy Luo Fei's plan was.

Mount Fuji is a symbol of Japan and one of the world's most famous active volcanoes. In recent years, geologists have been warning of its rising risk of eruption, but the Japanese government, for economic and political reasons, has consistently refused to release complete monitoring data to the public.

If Luo Fei really crashes a plane into a volcano, the consequences would be completely unpredictable.

In a residential building in Huaibei City, Zhou Xuan's teacup slipped from her fingers and shattered on the coffee table, spilling tea onto the floor. No one bothered to clean it up.

Zeng Jian gripped his phone tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, his lips moving but unable to utter a single word.

Bai Susu had stopped crying. She seemed frozen, her eyes fixed on the man on the screen, whose face was injured but whose smile was calm.

Xu Hanwen put the cigarette in his mouth but didn't light it. He just held it there, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down twice.

"He's really gone mad."

Zeng Jian finally spoke, his voice dry as if sandpaper had been rubbing against wood.

Zhou Xuan shook his head, his voice even lower than Zeng Jian's, almost as if he were talking to himself: "He's not crazy. He knows he can't go back."

These words silenced all four of them. From the moment Luo Fei hijacked the plane, he had already prepared himself for the possibility of never returning, something they should have anticipated long ago.

He has never been one to leave himself a way out. He was like that when he was on a mission with the Ganjiang team. He always put himself in the most dangerous position and always rushed to the front.

This time, however, he had no comrades-in-arms following him.

Luo Fei had no idea what the people watching his live stream were thinking. He fixed his phone back on the stand and scanned the airspace in front of him.

The two F-35s maintained their formation flight with no significant changes in attitude or distance, indicating that Japan has not yet made a final decision on how to handle the situation.

Luo Fei knew that the reason the other side hadn't taken action yet wasn't because they were afraid, but because they were weighing the pros and cons—a Daxia Gulfstream business jet with unknown intentions flew into the airspace of the mainland, with the identities of the passengers, their purpose, and whether they had explosives unknown. If they were to shoot it down rashly under these circumstances, and the wreckage of the plane crashed into a residential area or triggered a diplomatic conflict, no one could bear the consequences.

This is his only window of opportunity.

The Gulfstream G650ER cruised steadily forward at Mach 0.85, approximately 280 kilometers from Mount Fuji in Lixian County. Luo Fei adjusted the course, precisely aligning the nose of the aircraft with the red coordinate point on the navigation screen.

The autopilot emitted a soft beep, and the flight management system automatically corrected the deviation caused by the crosswind. The flight path became a straight line, like an arrow shot from a bow, cutting through the thin clouds over the East China Sea.

He glanced out the porthole.

The F-35 pilot on the left was gesturing to him again, this time with more intense movements—first, he spread his palms out and pressed them down, then he put his index and middle fingers together and pointed them towards the rear of his own aircraft, and finally he clenched his fist and waved it, meaning "final warning, you must come with me."

Luo Fei stared at the pilot for two seconds, a barely perceptible smile appearing on his lips. Then he raised his right hand and gave the pilot a thumbs-up through the porthole.

Thumbs up.

The comments section erupted in laughter.

"Hahahaha, Captain Luo, you're so mean!"

"That F-35 pilot must have turned green with envy."

"Captain Luo uses internationally recognized hand gestures with unparalleled skill."

"What kind of incredible courage is that to give a thumbs-up to two fighter jets by yourself?"

"Japanese pilot: I've never been treated like this in my life."

"Captain Luo, are you really not afraid they'll open fire?"

Luo Fei turned his gaze from the porthole back to his phone screen. The number of viewers in the live stream had surpassed 95 million, a figure far exceeding the historical peak of any other live streaming platform.

The battle between Boss Xin and Boss Sun on the donation leaderboard continues, with their combined donations exceeding 25 million.

In addition, countless ordinary netizens were sending gifts, five, ten, or one hundred yuan at a time, with dense gift effects obscuring the screen so much that almost nothing could be seen.

Luo Fei frowned and said to the camera, "Is Chen Yifan here?"

This statement came as abruptness, leaving the viewers in the live chat momentarily stunned.

Chen Yifan? Who is Chen Yifan? Most viewers didn't know why Luo Fei suddenly called out this name in the live stream, but Luo Fei's tone was not joking at all. His businesslike manner was in stark contrast to his earlier thumbs-up gesture.

Among the nearly 100 million viewers in the live stream, there was a user with the ID "Hongke Chen Yifan" who had been watching silently since the beginning of the live stream, without sending a single comment, sending a single gift, or even clicking "like".

He sat in front of a desktop computer with three screens linked together. On the screens were Luo Fei's live broadcast room, the Red Hacker Alliance's internal communication channel, and a scanning program for the Sakura Defense System that was in progress.

When he heard Luo Fei say "Chen Yifan" in his headphones, his fingers stopped on the keyboard, he sat up straight, stared at the face on the screen, and a barely perceptible fluctuation flashed in his eyes.

Luo Fei didn't receive any responses from the live chat, nor did he need to. He believed Chen Yifan was watching, because he knew what kind of person Chen Yifan was.

Those who worked together in the Red Hacker Alliance back then share the same blood in their veins. No matter how many years have passed, as long as they hear their comrades call their names, they will stand up without hesitation, just like hearing a bugle call to charge.

“I know you’re watching,” Luo Fei continued into the camera, his tone as calm as if he were giving instructions on a routine task. “Listen carefully, I’ll turn off the live stream in a bit. After I turn it off, I’ll share my location with you, and you can keep an eye on things for me.”

The barrage of comments exploded even more fiercely.

"Turn off the live stream?? Why are you turning it off, Captain Luo? Don't turn it off!"

"He's turning off his livestream to go do something like bumping into a volcano, no way!"

"Captain Luo, don't be so pessimistic. As long as you're alive, you can always make a comeback."

"He was leaving his last words."

"I can't take it anymore, I'm going to cry."

"Who exactly is Chen Yifan? Why is Captain Luo calling him that?"

Luo Fei didn't respond to any of the questions or attempts to persuade him to stay in the live chat. His gaze swept over the rapidly scrolling comments, as if he were looking at them, yet also as if he wasn't looking at them at all. (End of Chapter)