Genius is just the threshold for me!

"I'm...I'm getting lost!"

Operator No. 3 turned pale as he watched as not only the radar and communications systems malfunctioned, but even the GPS signal from the satellite positioning device also failed.

The next moment, as if he had thought of something, he looked up at the setting sun outside the porthole and suddenly shouted at the pilot in front of him.

"Return to base! Before the sun sets, if you don't want to die, return to base now!"

There is no radar detection, no communication guidance, and not even satellite positioning.

At this moment, they had become blind and deaf people lost in the sky.

If we cannot return to the fleet before dark.

When it got dark and even the sun, their compass, was gone, they could only pray that their opponents would show mercy and spare their lives.

"Dude, do you remember the angle of return and the fleet's position?"

The pilot realized the seriousness of the situation. A fine layer of cold sweat appeared on his forehead, his right hand holding the control stick trembled slightly, and his voice also trembled.

"We've been maneuvering and concealing our coordinates, dodging missiles. I only remember the approximate location. We have about 980 kilometers of fuel left, and we can't contact the refueling tanker in this situation..."

"At a bearing of 61° to 63° north of east, the fleet can be seen at a range of about 700 kilometers. We need to descend to 500 meters. At too high an altitude, the bearing provided by the sun will not be accurate enough... Be aware of other aircraft. Do not collide with other aircraft without orders to coordinate."

Operator Number 3's Adam's apple bobbed as he gazed at the shape of the western continental shelf, then at the sun's position. Based on the map and location of the Asia-Pacific region, he reported a rough location to the pilot.

"receive."

The pilot took a deep breath, nodded, looked at the sun outside the porthole, and then, referring to the inertial navigation system, began to circle, turn around, and return to base.

But after completing the turnaround, descending in altitude, and maintaining subsonic speed, it flew less than fifty kilometers back to base.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar fighter jet flew past the window, seven or eight kilometers away. His pupils contracted sharply, and he couldn't help but exclaim in horror, "My God! They've caught up!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

On the sea.

A fishing boat, laden with its catch, was beginning its return voyage. The fish scales remaining on the deck shimmered with iridescent colors in the setting sun, and the salty sea breeze, carrying the smell of diesel fuel, wafted into the wheelhouse.

At that moment, a curse rang out from the driver's cab: "How come this GPS is getting worse and worse? It was just getting worse a moment ago, and now there's no signal at all..."

Xiao Feng, tune the radio to the public frequency, put the antenna outside and see if you can get a signal, listen and see what's going on!

"Understood, Uncle."

A young man in his early twenties with a buzz cut, who was sorting fish with seven or eight crew members in the cabin, quickly took off his gloves, crushed a block of ice, ran to the wheelhouse, tuned a radio to the public frequency, and suddenly stopped when he reached the wheelhouse door.

"Uncle, there's a location tracking!"

"What kind of location tracking is this! I don't have any signal at all... Where did you get your location tracking from, kid!"

The boat captain slapped the screen of the GPS navigator in front of him, and cursed irritably.

"Yes..."

The young man with the buzz cut picked up a palm-sized GPS device from the corner and pointed to the clear location marker on it: "Isn't this a full signal?"

"What kind of locator is this? My GPS locator has no signal at all." The boat captain walked over with a puzzled look on his face.

"BeiDou positioning is a domestically developed satellite positioning system."

The young man pointed to the logo on the GPS device and explained, "Last month, the town was promoting that fishing boats could get one for free. I gave them my boat number and registered my ID card, and then I got it."

"Made in China?"

The boat captain was taken aback and said in surprise, "When did domestic positioning technology become so good? My old GPS doesn't even have a signal anymore."

"Times have changed, Uncle. Stop looking down on domestic products."

The young man handed the locator to the boat captain and was about to go inside to work when a series of muffled thunderous roars sounded in the sky.

The two instinctively looked out the window.

Six strange fighter jets—or rather, one strange fighter jet—were seen chasing six strange fighter jets, flying low from the southwest.

The pursuing fighter jet had a prominent red star on its vertical wing, while the six fighter jets being pursued in front of it clearly showed star and stripe markings.

"Holy crap, one against six, like herding ducks!"

The young man with the buzz cut exclaimed in surprise, then seemed to remember something, abruptly threw down the radio, ran to the side, grabbed his phone, and snapped a few photos.

"Buzz! Plane No. 6, you're veering to the left. You're going to collide with the plane on your left in 800 meters..."

"Buzz! Aircraft No. 3, there are fishing boats below. Control your altitude and don't descend any further. If you descend any lower and disturb the public, we will stop providing humanitarian flight broadcasts..."

"Hey! Number 2, don't fly too fast. Flying fast consumes a lot of fuel. Aren't you worried about running out of fuel...?"

At that moment, the radio that the short-haired youth had tossed aside and tuned to the public frequency began to play in standard Mandarin, along with a humane Chinese-English announcement.

But this seemed to be a directional communication; before the entire broadcast could be heard, the signal abruptly stopped as seven fighter jets swept past the fishing boat.

"Awesome... awesome!"

The young man with the buzz cut stared wide-eyed at the distant fighter jets, dumbfounded: "This isn't herding ducks...this is walking dogs!"

"Xiao Feng, is that a domestic fighter jet chasing us?"

The captain stared wide-eyed in disbelief, leaning half his body out of the cockpit window, chasing the distant silhouette of the fighter jet.

"It's from China, Uncle, didn't you hear Mandarin? There are markings on the fighter jet..." The buzz-cut young man looked at the photo he took on his phone and answered excitedly.

"etc!"

At this moment, the captain seemed to realize something, looking in the direction where the fighter jets disappeared: "Did they chase the enemy too deep? We chatted with other fishing boats yesterday, and we heard there's a fleet there..."

"this……"

The young man with the buzz cut paused for a moment, then waved his hand and said, "Don't worry, there's definitely no problem. The commander is more capable than us."

As he spoke, a muffled rumble of thunder sounded in the sky again, and the crew-cut youth looked up.

Six faint black dots formed two formations, streaking across the blue sky as they chased after the direction in which the fighter jets had disappeared, leaving behind faint white trails...

[Report! Electric Wolf 2 has detected enemy vessel. Signal identification indicates it is the USS Ticonderoga. Repeat. USS Ticonderoga detected...]

Laboratory No. 78.

Lin Dong listened to the report through his earpiece, then looked at the combat simulation screen that had been pushed into the depths of international waters, saw the cruiser signal displayed on it, and looked at the suggestions given by the headquarters staff on another computer. After a moment of contemplation, he turned on the voice-changing microphone.

"Keep moving forward, the escort fleet is right behind us, but stay calm and don't use radar to target them. Just send their Howlers home."

[Electric Wolf 2 received... Wait, they've turned on their radar! Their Aegis radar is activated and is illuminating us!]

What?

Wang Xingguo and Lin Weiliang stood up abruptly, holding their earpieces, staring intently at the screen.

"Raise the altitude a bit and scan whether the enemy is coming in a formation or just a single cruiser," Lin Dong asked earnestly, taking a deep breath.

The simulated combat image on the screen immediately showed the J-16D's altitude increasing.

After a short wait, a new response came in: [Report! Only one cruiser spotted within a 200-nautical-mile radius...]

"Then kick its radar out! Fill it with jamming noise!" Lin Dong said without hesitation.

Grandpa's.

He had just thought it was the entire enemy fleet coming, but he didn't expect that just a cruiser would dare to be so arrogant.

We kindly escorted your fighter jets back home, and even turned on our radar to actively illuminate them...

[Electric Wolf No. 1 received!]

[Electric Wolf No. 2 received!]

As soon as Lin Dong finished speaking, not only the operator but also the pilot responded, their voices filled with barely suppressed excitement.

Di-

The data on the desktop screen flashed for a moment.

The electronic power of the J-16D, which had been stagnant at only 50 kilowatts as the six Growler fighters gave up resistance, suddenly surged to 240 kilowatts.

"Since the other side doesn't welcome us sending their fighter jets home, we can kick through this radar, activate the electronic deception strategy of No. 07, and then return to base."

Seeing this change in power, Lin Dong seemed to remember something and added a comment.

[Electric Wolf No. 1 received!]

[Electric Wolf No. 2 received!]

A response came through the earphones.

At that moment, the data on the screen jumped.

A line of data showing that the Aegis radar frequency had been successfully locked appeared, followed by lines of jamming strategies and the No. 07 electronic deception strategy that Lin Dong had mentioned, which were activated in turn.

"7.35 seconds..."

"This Aegis radar has a very strong anti-jamming capability."

Lin Dong turned off the microphone, put down the headphones, checked the time of the locked frequency, and finally looked at the activated electronic deception strategy No. 07, a hint of wicked amusement in his eyes.

Sizzle! Sizzle—

USS Ticonderoga, Captain's Command Room.

As the high-ranking personnel watched the radar screen turn into a screen full of static less than a minute after it was turned on, the atmosphere in the command room fell silent.

"Performance, even better than the Roarer..."

A senior technical analyst paused for a few seconds and then uttered a nonsensical remark.

Those around him twitched upon hearing this.

That's nonsense. If this fighter jet were weaker than the Howler, their two squadrons of six Howlers wouldn't have been chased back like dogs on a leash.

"Captain, given this situation, our mission and the industrial negotiations in Europe might be..." At this moment, a senior staff officer, seemingly remembering something, walked over to the captain and whispered a reminder.

Di-

But before the highest-ranking captain could say anything, suddenly, the radar screen, which had been displaying static, flashed twice and returned to normal.

The next moment, thousands of intrusion signals appeared on the screen, and a piercing alarm sounded throughout the entire cruiser.

[Beep! Enemy aircraft detected! Enemy aircraft detected!]

[Beep! Missile detected! Missile detected!]

"It's closed!"

The captain's face darkened, and he quickly said in a deep voice, "Shut down!"

Playing these electronic deception tactics in front of them—are they treating them like fools, or are they responding to something that happened twenty years ago?

Di-

But before the shutdown command could be given, the radar suddenly emitted a long beep, and all the intrusion signals quickly converged into seven large gourds.

"this……"

Just as the commander was about to issue the shutdown order, he saw this and suddenly tripped over a stool, falling to the side.

Bang!

The stool made a sound, and the seven gourds on the radar screen broke open as well.

Seven Calabash Brothers, with limited radar resolution and rather rudimentary strokes, but with remarkably lifelike expressions, jumped out, lined up, and grinned at everyone...

P.S.: It's almost the end of the month, so could I humbly ask you readers if you could give me a monthly pass?