I started by watching videos, and I chose 10,000 combat power.

On the high seas south of China, the aircraft carrier group of the United States began to turn the moment Luo Fei took off.

There was no discussion or consultation with superiors.

The fleet commander stood on the bridge, watching the young man in military uniform soaring through the sky on the screen, and the fifteen dark blue dots arranged in a V-shape behind him.

He then turned around and gave the order to the helmsman: "Turn around and return the way we came."

The helmsman paused for a moment, then asked to confirm, "Sir, you mean we should turn back?"

The commander did not repeat the order, but simply nodded, his expression as if he had just swallowed a mouthful of extremely bitter coffee.

Warships from several neighboring countries—from India, the Philippines, and Vietnam—also changed course when they saw the US fleet turn.

Their speed of action is even faster than that of the United States, like a flock of sheep being led off a cliff by their leader, all scrambling to get ahead, afraid of falling behind.

One of the Philippine warships turned too sharply and nearly collided with another warship next to it. The two sides exchanged a few words of accusation through loudspeakers, but neither stopped and continued to retreat out to sea.

The situation in the southern waters of the Dragon Kingdom changed instantly from a standoff with fleets from multiple countries to a vast, empty sea with only Dragon Kingdom warships patrolling.

Within the Dragon Kingdom, people are still watching the live stream.

Fifteen armored soldiers precisely dismantled missile sites, swiftly controlled aircraft, and completely blockaded the port. Scene after scene resembled both a thrilling science fiction blockbuster and a realistic and shocking documentary.

Some were moved to tears, some couldn't hide their excited smiles, and some, holding their children, pointed at the screen and said, "Look, those are soldiers from our Dragon Country."

The celebratory fireworks and firecrackers had already been set off before the live broadcast had even ended.

This was not a spontaneous act by one or two households, but a celebration that swept across the country.

From north to south, from east to west, whether in bustling cities, quiet towns, or simple villages, the sound of firecrackers echoes everywhere.

Crackle, thud—snap—, the sounds rose and fell, the liveliness even surpassing that of the Chinese New Year.

Someone found some leftover fireworks from the Spring Festival. Although the wrapping paper was already damp and soft, they still lit them carefully.

Although the explosion wasn't as spectacular as expected, no one present showed any disdain.

Some families, lacking stock, rode their electric bikes to town to buy fireworks, only to find that the shops had already sold out. The shopkeeper stood at the door, shrugged, and said, "That's all. Come back next Lunar New Year."

On social media platforms, netizens spontaneously started discussing the same topic.

Someone posted a video of fireworks going off downstairs from their apartment building, captioning it "More exciting than Chinese New Year";

Someone posted an old photo showing an elderly man standing on the beach, gazing towards Dongdu Island from behind, with the caption simply: "Grandpa, come home."

However, some people reminded everyone: "Please pay attention to the relevant regulations on setting off fireworks and firecrackers in different regions, so as not to get fined."

The unanimous reply was: "Fine, fine. I'm willing to pay the fine."

On the street, people were honking their horns as cars drove one after another, not because of traffic jams, but because of celebration.

The sounds of car horns, the crisp crackling of firecrackers, and the cheers of the people mingled together, igniting the entire city and instantly bringing it to a boil.

Liuxi Village is no exception.

After leaving Luo Fei's house, Luo Youfu's first action was not to go home, but to head straight to the village committee, turn on the loudspeaker, and start playing "Singing for the Motherland".

The loudspeaker was a bit old, the sound was crackling, and it would occasionally stop playing, but nobody in the village cared.

Aunt Wang ran home, rummaged through drawers and cabinets, found a string of firecrackers that hadn't been set off during the New Year, and hung them on the clothesline by the door to light them.

Firecrackers crackled and popped, scattering red paper scraps all over the ground, as if laying a festive red carpet on the cement floor.

She stood at the doorway, hands on her hips, head tilted back, laughing like an innocent child.

Li Xiulan and Luo Weidong were still sitting on the sofa.

The television was still on, but they had no interest in watching the program.

Li Xiulan removed her hand from Luo Weidong's hand and looked down. She saw several deep, red fingernail marks on the back of Luo Weidong's hand, as clear as crescent moons.

She quickly and gently stroked him, asking if it hurt.

Luo Weidong pulled his hand back and said, "It doesn't hurt," but he couldn't help but gasp.

On Dongdu Island, several Chinese warships and coast guard vessels have already docked.

On the deck stood coast guard and naval officers and soldiers in uniform, their military bearing impeccable and their expressions solemn, but upon closer inspection, their eyes gleamed with excitement.

The first group to disembark were not soldiers, but people in suits.

They were managers from various departments, as well as a group of officers and soldiers transferred from Hong Kong who had experience in urban takeover.

They moved quickly yet in an orderly fashion, each person clearly understanding their responsibilities.

Some people carried folders, some carried walkie-talkies, and some carried maps. They walked out of the cabin, lined up, took attendance, and were assigned tasks. The whole process took less than ten minutes.

There were already quite a few people on the dock.

It wasn't the military, but ordinary citizens.

Some people held up a banner with red background and white lettering that read "Welcome, relatives";

Someone was holding a small flag—the flag of the Dragon Kingdom, which they had found from somewhere. It wasn't folded neatly, but they held it high.

Some people stood at the back of the crowd, tiptoeing to peek inside, with bright smiles on their faces.

An old man stood on the dock, wearing a white shirt, holding a large flag high in his hand.

The sea breeze blew, the flag unfurled, and shimmered in the sunlight. His eyes were red-rimmed, but he didn't shed a tear.

He looked at the Chinese soldiers, officers in suits, and coast guards disembarking from the ship, his lips trembling several times, and finally he only said one sentence: "We're going home, we're finally going home."

Luo Fei descended from the sky and landed on the dock.

Fifteen armored soldiers landed behind him, their deep blue armor gleaming coldly in the sunlight, and the five-star red flags on their chests and shoulders shining brightly.

They spread out, scattered throughout the dock, facing outwards and backs inwards, maintaining a vigilant posture.

No one spoke, no one looked around; their helmets and visors concealed their expressions, but everyone understood that the eyes behind the visors were closely watching everything around them.

Luo Fei walked up to the men in suits and shook hands with the leader.

The man was in his fifties, wearing silver-rimmed glasses, with a serious expression, but his handshake was very strong.

"General Luo, thank you for your hard work. Leave the rest to us."

Luo Fei nodded and said, "The armored soldiers will remain on guard until you have complete control. If you need anything, just let us know."

The man nodded, turned around, and led the group toward the city center.

Their steps were light and steady, as if they had walked this road countless times.

Luo Fei stood on the dock, gazing at the island.

On the streets, people have been clearing roadblocks on their own initiative—these were not set up by the military, but were erected by the people themselves during the previous "state of emergency," with sandbags, barbed wire, and roadblock signs piled up haphazardly at intersections.

Some people swept with brooms, some used shovels to remove sand, and some squatted on the ground to dismantle the sandbags, pour out the sand, and stack the bags neatly to the side.

Without any organization or orders, everyone took the initiative to act.

His phone vibrated; it was Director Qin.

"Xiao Luo, what's the situation on Dongdu Island?"

Luo Fei replied, "The takeover has begun, and the public is very cooperative. Fifteen armored soldiers are on alert, and no abnormalities have been detected so far."

Director Qin grunted in acknowledgment, his tone shifting abruptly from lukewarm to ice-cold: "The Japanese fleet, disregarding our objections, has entered Chinese waters. Four destroyers, moving at high speed, are targeting Dongdu Island. According to intelligence, it has been confirmed that they are carrying nuclear bombs."

Luo Fei's eyes turned cold for a moment, but his tone remained calm: "I understand."

Director Qin paused for a second, then told him to "be careful" before hanging up the phone.

Luo Fei put his phone in his pocket and looked up at the sky. The sky was blue, the clouds were white, and the sun was shining brightly.

On the distant sea, the gray-blue water stretched as far as the eye could see, with no ships in sight.

But he knew that at the edge of that azure expanse, four gray-white warships were speeding towards him, carrying mushroom bombs.

He stood there for a moment, then turned around and walked up to Chu Yue.

"The Japanese fleet is here. They're carrying mushroom bombs. You continue to hold Dongdu Island; I'll handle it."

Chu Yue's eyes widened suddenly behind her helmet visor: "A mushroom bomb?"

"Um."

Luo Fei's tone was indifferent.

He turned around, faced the sea, and then took off.

The body rose straight up from the dock, without acceleration or dive, and steadily flew towards the line where the sea and sky met.

The live stream ball followed him in the air; the split-screen mode had ended, leaving only Luo Fei's figure.

When people who had finished setting off firecrackers returned to their television sets and heard Luo Fei mention Japanese chicken and mushroom bombs, the comments section erupted once again.

"He just said that Japanese warships entered our waters?"

"Carrying nuclear weapons? Really?"

"Whether it's true or not, with him around, there's nothing to worry about."

"The Dragon Kingdom's waters are not a place they can come and go as they please."

Luo Feifei was at sea, with the deep blue, boundless ocean beneath her feet.

The wind was strong, making his military uniform flutter, but he remained as steady as a rock, like an arrow released from a bow, flying straight towards the northeast.

Before long, several small grayish-white dots appeared on the sea surface, getting closer and bigger.

The four destroyers spread out in a fan shape, their bows churning up waves and leaving four white trails on the sea.

The radar on the bridge was spinning, and the Japanese flag on the mast was fluttering in the sea breeze.

Luo Fei slowed down and hovered about 500 meters in front of the fleet.

He looked down at the four warships, at the soldiers on the deck looking up at him, and at the officers on the bridge holding binoculars.

His gaze was calm as still water, as if he were watching four overconfident insects.

He spoke into the live broadcast, and his words echoed throughout the entire planet Earth:

"Japanese warships, you have entered China's territorial waters. You are given one last chance: turn around and leave immediately. Otherwise, you will bear the consequences."