You went on a blind date and presented an A-level wanted criminal as a meeting gift?

The moment Lin Chen stepped into the cockpit, the entire aircraft was slammed down by a gust of air.

The fuselage tilted to the left by a full thirty degrees.

Everything that wasn't secured inside the cabin flew out, smashing against the walls like ping-pong balls, creating complete chaos.

Inside the cockpit, the ace pilot gripped the control stick tightly with both hands, the veins on his forehead bulging, his throat filled with curses and roars, and every muscle in his body straining against the odds.

He didn't even notice someone coming in behind him until a hand landed on his shoulder.

Without any warning, that hand simply lifted him off the driver's seat.

The pilot was stunned for a full half second.

In that half-second, Lin Chen had already dragged him away from the driver's seat and pushed him towards the rear cabin.

"Move to the back."

Just two words.

The pilot turned around abruptly, staring in horror at Lin Chen's incredibly flat face.

"You...you won't..."

Lin Chen ignored him.

He had already sat in the driver's seat, crossed his arms, and pressed down on his wrists, producing two crisp popping sounds from his joints.

Then, he placed both hands on the control stick.

[God-level driving skills], activated with a roar!

A torrent of data exploded inside my head and coursed through my entire body.

Aerodynamic limit parameters, the response curve of the turbine shaft engine for each frame, and the deflection limit of the rotor blades under different shear wind speeds were transformed into a massive data stream that instantly flooded his brain.

0.3 seconds.

Lin Chen began to move his hands.

It's not about groping or probing, but rather an instinct ingrained in your muscles, one that doesn't require any thought.

His first action after taking control of the joystick was counterintuitive—instead of pulling the stick to climb, he lowered the nose of the aircraft slightly.

The pilot gasped sharply and jerked his body forward from the rear cockpit.

"No! There's the sea below! You must—"

"Shut up."

Two words completely blocked the pilot's throat.

Outside the window, bolts of lightning flashed, and the bright blue-white light turned the cockpit a stark white.

Rain mixed with hail pelted the glass, reducing visibility to zero; you couldn't see anything.

Most of the data on the instrument panel was jumping around erratically, and the pointers of the altimeter and compass were shaking like a leaf due to magnetic interference.

then.

Lin Chen closed his eyes.

That's the action.

It stopped Su Qingge from breathing, trapping her in her chest cavity.

Her lips were slightly parted, and she didn't close them for a long time.

The pilot's eyes almost popped out of their sockets, and his lips moved repeatedly, but he couldn't make a sound.

The hands that landed on the control stick conveyed a sense of certainty and composure that sent chills down his spine.

That's not technology.

It's some kind of instinct that runs deep in your bones.

[God-level hearing], unleashing full power.

The moment he closed his eyes, Lin Chen's entire sensory world was completely reorganized.

The roar of the engine was automatically stripped away by his brain and archived into a set of quantifiable frequency data.

Thunder, stripping away.

The sound of rain, peeling away.

The sound signature of hail hitting the porthole is deconstructed, refined, and separated layer by layer.

Then he heard it.

In that chaotic rage, he heard it.

When wind shear tears through the air, a faint murmur of airflow, between four and six hundred hertz, is heard, though it is buried by countless layers of sound waves.

That's not something the human ear should be able to detect.

But Lin Chen heard it.

He could hear its direction, hear the subtle deflections it made every ten meters or so, and hear where the turbulent nodes were and where the relatively stable channels were.

In my mind, a three-dimensional airflow map silently appeared.

Within a ten-kilometer radius, the starting and ending coordinates of every updraft and the core area of ​​every turbulence were clearly imprinted in my mind.

His hands suddenly moved.

The movements are small, yet precise down to the millimeter.

The helicopter's nose began to turn, by only three degrees.

It was these three degrees that caused the entire aircraft to silently glide away from the edge of the most ferocious airflow core.

The car jolted, then suddenly shifted to a lower gear.

Su Qingge subconsciously raised her head.

The pilot stared intently at Lin Chen's profile, which was closed, his lips trembling for a long time, unable to utter a word.

Just then, a thunderbolt as thick as a bucket suddenly exploded less than twenty meters from the fuselage, tearing the night sky apart!

The violent energy caused all the instruments on the aircraft to shut down simultaneously, plunging the cockpit into complete darkness.

Su Qingge gritted her teeth and pinched the seatbelt buckle so hard that it left an imprint.

One second later.

The dial lit up again.

Lin Chen's hands kept moving.

Ten fingers swept across the densely packed dials, adjusting frequencies, compensating, and correcting—each movement so fast it was blurry, without the slightest pause.

"pay close attention."

He only said those two words.

The next second, the nose of the aircraft suddenly dropped!

The entire aircraft swooped down at an almost vertical angle toward the dark sea below!

"ah--!!"

The pilot was tightly strapped in by the seatbelt, and his entire body was thrown up from the passenger seat.

Su Qingge's heart sank to the bottom, her stomach churned, her teeth clenched tightly, and something hot welled up in her eyes, which she forced back.

The sea surface magnified at a breathtaking speed in the darkness.

Just when everyone thought it was all over.

Lin Chen suddenly flicked his hand to the right, then pulled it to the left.

He forcefully shaped the entire flight path of the plane into a sharp "Z" shape!

Cross-cut!

brush!

A bolt of lightning, as thick as a bucket, struck down with a deafening roar right in front of us!

The intense blue-white light turned the whole world into a negative.

The helicopter grazed the side of the lightning bolt, cutting past it at a terrifyingly close distance.

The ionized airflow hits the rotor blades, producing a hissing sound of electric arcs.

The fuselage shuddered.

Then, things stabilized.

The cockpit was completely silent.

The pilot slowly raised his head, his face drained of color, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Lin Chen's profile.

He flew for twenty-three years, piloting fighter jets, flying over Afghan valleys, and even making an emergency landing on a red dirt runway in Somalia.

He thought he had seen the limits of extreme flight conditions in the world.

But he had never seen this kind of operation before.

That "Z" maneuver is a legendary term that has been circulating in the aviation community for decades.

"Thunderstorm Extreme Cutting Maneuver".

In theory, it is possible to pass through the core of a thunderstorm by utilizing the extremely brief period of electrical neutrality between two adjacent lightning strikes.

It only exists in theory.

Because the timing precision required for this action is calculated in milliseconds, it requires a near-omniscient understanding of the entire airflow field, which is impossible to achieve with any instrument or equipment alone.

Everyone knows this theory.

No one has ever dared to actually do it.

"you……"

The pilot squeezed out a broken voice, his fingers trembling as he pointed at Lin Chen's profile.

His lips trembled, and after a long pause, he finally managed to squeeze the words out of his throat.

"This is... god-level micro-management that only exists in textbooks..."

His voice was completely shattered.

"Are you even human?"

Lin Chen did not answer him, but slowly opened his eyes.

From beginning to end, there was not a trace of panic in those deep eyes.

Outside the window, the rain suddenly lessened.

His gaze pierced through the rain, locking onto a blurry outline of lights on the dark sea ahead.

"Poseidon II" is right in front of us.

Lin Chen gently raised his hands, making extremely subtle adjustments.

The helicopter gradually slowed down and lowered its altitude.

It's getting lower and lower, slower and slower.

Under that beam of light, the outline of the cargo ship's stern helipad gradually became clear in the field of vision.

The deck was nearly deserted; the crew had all taken refuge inside the cabins.

The storm completely drowned out all sounds.

Lin Chen made the final movement with both hands.

light.

Very light.

The entire "Cheetah-7" helicopter stopped with full force and hovered silently two meters above the tarmac.

The sound of the rotor blades was completely buried by the torrential rain.

No one on the deck noticed.