Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

The Trieste still used an old-fashioned mechanical instrument panel. The depth gauge had four digital dials side by side: ones, tens, hundreds, and thousands. At this moment, the ones and tens digits were spinning wildly, forming a blurry afterimage, and Chu Zihang couldn't even read the tens digit.

"Slow down! We have to slow down now! The Trieste can't withstand the rapidly increasing water pressure!" Genji's shout came through the headset, with the chaotic shouts and alarms in the control room of Sumeru Tower in the background.

"How the hell are we supposed to slow this down! We're like the iron ball Galileo threw down!" Lu Mingfei's voice trembled as he gripped the armrests of his seat tightly, his knuckles turning white. "Is the iron ball supposed to slow itself down? Come on, do something!"

Lu Mingfei felt as if his soul was about to be flung out of his body. The Trieste was not only falling, but also tumbling. The cockpit was like a dice jar being shaken wildly by a naughty child; the three people were strapped into their seats, but their bodies were being tossed around uncontrollably.

This is more terrifying than the world's most thrilling roller coasters. A roller coaster lasts a maximum of three minutes, but they have been tumbling in the dark abyss for several minutes, not knowing where the end is, only knowing that if this continues, all that awaits them is to be crushed into pieces by the water pressure.

"Turn off the air valve! The only thing we can do now is try to increase buoyancy to slow the fall!" Yuan Zhisheng said urgently.

“I’ve tried!” Caesar futilely turned the air valve knob, the metal screeching against the valve, but the pressure reading on the dashboard continued to plummet. “The air valve is malfunctioning; nothing I do will work!”

Looking out the observation window, the scene was utterly despairing. Huge amounts of bubbles were gushing from the top of the Trieste, forming a silver curtain in the searchlight beams. The sound of the dense bubbles bursting was like thunder, faintly audible even through the thick portholes. The entire Trieste was like a deflated balloon, rapidly collapsing.

Chu Zihang quickly brought up the design blueprints of the Trieste on the control panel. The 3D image rotated on the screen, and red fault markers flashed.

“The problem must be with the main air depressurization valve on top of the Trieste,” he said, swiping his finger across the screen. “This is the shared depressurization valve for air compartments 1, 2, and 3. It’s usually completely sealed and hidden under thick pressure-resistant armor, making it very difficult to detect. It’s precisely this least likely place that’s malfunctioning.”

“A design flaw,” Chu Zihang continued his analysis, his voice devoid of emotion, but his rapid speech betrayed his tension. “Once the main pressure relief valve leaks, air will leak even if all other valves are closed. We can only try to slow down the leakage rate.”

“I can try switching the tee to block the branch leading to the pressure relief valve,” Caesar said, his fingers moving across the complex piping diagram, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “But the operation will take time, and the Trieste needs to remain stable! Damn it! Didn’t those lunatics in the equipment department say it was foolproof? This is what they call foolproof?”

"I'll activate the rudder first to stop the rolling," Chu Zihang said, gripping the rudder control stick. "We can't keep rolling."

The Trieste's rolling subsided slightly, but its descent speed showed no signs of slowing down. The depth gauge numbers were still jumping wildly.

"Trieste! Trieste!" Genji's voice rang out again, accompanied by the rapid clatter of keyboards and Japanese conversation in the background. "We have an emergency plan: activate the Trieste's high-powered engine and use the stabilizer fins and rudders to switch to gliding! Be quick! At your current speed, you'll crash into the sea in less than a minute!"

"A powerful power source, could it be this? The nuclear-powered compartment specially installed by the Equipment Department." Caesar grabbed the belt on the bulkhead and barely managed to stand up amidst the violent shaking.

He smashed the glass cover on the side of the control panel with his elbow, revealing a conspicuous yellow wrench inside. The wrench was clearly marked with a black three-bladed fan symbol, an internationally recognized nuclear radiation warning symbol.

Lu Mingfei then noticed the wrench: "Huh? We're carrying nuclear weapons with us?"

“The original Trieste was powered by common batteries,” Caesar explained, his eyes fixed on the yellow wrench, “but the equipment department felt it wasn’t powerful enough to complete the mission, so they privately modified it to be nuclear-powered.”

"You're not going to say this thing is dual-powered, are you?"

“Yes. The Trieste has two propulsion systems: lithium-ion batteries and the nuclear power we’ve seen.” Caesar paused. “But the question is, can we trust the equipment department?”

"They should be good at nuclear energy, right?" Lu Mingfei stammered, a sense of foreboding rising in his heart.

“There are a few experts who came from Oak Ridge National Laboratory in the United States,” Caesar nodded, “who participated in the development of the world’s first atomic bomb.”

"That's good, no need to worry."

"We still have to be worried! They're the ones who build atomic bombs!" Caesar almost shouted. "If the Trieste explodes out of control, it's equivalent to a megaton-class nuclear bomb detonating underwater, potentially causing a massive undersea earthquake or tsunami. In the worst-case scenario—"

Caesar took a deep breath. "It could sink the Japanese archipelago."

A brief silence fell over the cockpit, broken only by the sound of instrument panel alarms and the groaning of metal under pressure.

“6000m.” Chu Zihang broke the silence, gripping the rudder and stabilizer levers tightly, his arm muscles tense. “We’re about two kilometers from the bottom of the abyss. The rolling has basically stopped, and the Trieste is back on course. If we have power, we can try underwater gliding.”

"Can anyone explain what underwater gliding is?" Lu Mingfei didn't understand these terms at all.

Chapter 425 Underwater Gliding

"As the name suggests, it involves gliding underwater. The Trieste has a stabilizing wing installed by the equipment department, which is somewhat like the wing of an airplane," Chu Zihang explained briefly. "After switching to nuclear power, we can glide underwater with the help of the power and the stabilizing wing, so as not to fall to the seabed."

“That’s great, it sounds very valuable,” Lu Mingfei murmured, then said eagerly, “Let’s try it quickly! Falling into the sea is a dead end. Frilian and I often go to the equipment department to test things, I believe the Trieste won’t explode.”

Caesar gripped the yellow wrench tightly. He wasn't as confident as Lu Mingfei, and he never went to the equipment department to test it.

In the dim light of the cockpit overhead lamp, the bulging veins on the back of Caesar's hand were visible. Pulling that lever meant only two things: either the Trieste would gain immense power, deploying its stabilizing wings like a giant deep-sea bird, gliding through the abyss to survive; or the nuclear power module would malfunction, triggering a chain reaction that would instantly vaporize the three of them, possibly taking tens of millions of Japanese with them.

Lu Mingfei was extremely anxious. If he had the wrench, he would have already pulled it; what did it matter to him whether Japan sank or not? But he was too embarrassed to persuade Caesar to make such a decision that could endanger countless innocent people. He could only stare at Caesar with wide eyes, his lips moved, but he ultimately remained silent.

Caesar's lips pressed into a tight line. The lives of hundreds of millions of people truly rested in his hands. Lu Mingfei suddenly realized that, at this critical juncture, Caesar was actually hesitating.

This seemingly arrogant young nobleman, who always acted as if he were the best in the world, actually held such profound respect for innocent lives. Lu Mingfei felt a pang of shame. He realized that true aristocratic education taught more than just horseback riding, swordsmanship, and wine tasting; it also instilled this almost pedantic sense of responsibility.

Lu Mingfei recalled a post he had read on Zhihu about the nobility. It told a story from World War I: a young British marquess was serving as the first mate of a warship, which was severely damaged by German artillery fire and was about to sink.

The Marquess raised a white flag, pleading with the Germans to rescue his officers and men who had fallen into the water. The German captain, also of noble birth, disregarded the ongoing battle and ordered lifeboats to be lowered to rescue the British. After all the sailors were rescued, the British Marquess thanked the German captain but refused to board a lifeboat, choosing instead to sink with his warship, upholding the noble tradition of "the captain going down with the ship."

At the time, Lu Mingfei thought the story was pretentious and foolish—why talk about tradition when you're risking your life? But now, looking at Caesar, he suddenly understood. Some things are truly more important than life itself.

“Boss Caesar,” Lu Mingfei couldn’t hold back any longer, his voice a little hoarse, “if you can’t bring yourself to do it, I’ll do the bad thing! I’ll take the responsibility!”

Caesar turned to look at him: "What cruelty?"

"Otherwise, why not use nuclear power?"

“This,” Caesar released the wrench and irritably tapped the keyboard on the control panel, “I’ve forgotten the startup password I set for the nuclear power system. I’ve tried several, but they’re all wrong!”

Lu Mingfei froze, and Chu Zihang paused in his actions of operating the stabilizer. The only sounds in the cockpit were the ticking of the instruments, the oppressive roar of the seawater, and the short, sharp, and despairing beeps of Caesar's repeated incorrect password inputs.

On the depth chart, the thousands digit jumped from "6" to "7".

7200 meters. Only one kilometer left to reach the legendary bottom of the abyss.

Mai Shude gazed at the pitch-black abyss below, her entire body strapped to the curved hull of the submersible. Her perception of the changing depths was far more acute and brutal than that of the three people inside. There were no instruments; only the direct feedback of pressure from every inch of her skin and every bone in her body.

At first, it was just a uniform pressure, like being wrapped in a thick blanket that was constantly tightening. But as the depth increased, the pressure began to soar exponentially. At 7000 meters, she felt as if an invisible giant hand was pressing her whole body against the metal shell, and the buffer layer between the diving suit and the steel plate almost disappeared.

At 7500 meters, she could clearly hear the faint groans emanating from her bones, not the sound of breaking, but the process of densification, like rocks deep in the earth's crust being compacted into a completely new shape over millions of years.

The Siren's Song, a power granted by her enhanced bloodline, was operating at full capacity. She could sense changes in the density of the surrounding seawater and instinctively adjust the microstructure of her own tissues to counteract the pressure. The bluish-gold patterns appearing on her skin were no longer just a visual phenomenon; they were the embodiment of her bio-force field, forming an extremely thin buffer film on her body.

This membrane vibrates at a high speed of thousands of times per second, breaking up, reorganizing and redirecting the evenly distributed pressure waves out of the body. The principle is similar to the technology of top-level bulletproof vests, but this is a purely biological survival instinct encoded by the dragon's genes.

Without this temporarily acquired power of words, she would have long since become an unrecognizable mass of organic matter.

First, the air in the lungs is compressed to the point of bursting, and the alveoli rupture like soap bubbles. Then, all the blood in the body is ejected through the capillaries of the skin under high pressure. Next, the bones shatter like fragile glass, mixing with muscle tissue to form a pulpy mass. Finally, this mass is evenly spread across the outer shell of the submersible by the pressure at a depth of 7900 meters, with a thickness of no more than a few millimeters.

The Trieste was shortened by 5 centimeters due to the high pressure during its ascent of the Mariana Trench; this was made of specially reinforced military-grade alloy. Human flesh and blood are no more resilient than a tissue in the face of such force.

Mai Shude was surrounded by absolute darkness. The feeling of falling into endless darkness was a hundred times more real than any horror movie.

If it weren't for the Siren's Song's effect, which provided not only physical enhancement but also a matching mental calming effect, she probably would have truly broken down and screamed. Certain components of the potion were regulating her adrenaline levels and amygdala activity, transforming her instinctive fear into a state of heightened alertness.

This feeling suddenly reminded her of her first lesson in ninja training.

She was fourteen years old that year, standing on the edge of a cliff deep in the Iga Mountains. The cliff was no more than fifty meters high, but below it was a thick fog that never dissipated, making it impossible to see the bottom.

The teacher, a thin, withered old man with eyes as sharp as a hawk, said to her, "Jump down. Jump down, and I will teach you what you really want to learn."

There was no safety rope, no parachute, and not even a promise to "catch you."

Mai thought she had misheard and stared blankly at her teacher's wrinkled face.

The old man repeated himself, his voice calm and even: "Jump down, and I'll teach you. If you want to become a ninja, you must have a wish that you must fulfill. If that wish isn't enough for you to give your life for, then you might as well go home now."

Chapter 426 The Sky Is Above

Mai Shutoku remembered standing on the edge of the cliff, looking down at the churning white mist. What was she thinking? Actually, she wasn't thinking about anything specific. She wasn't thinking about why she had to learn ninjutsu, what would happen if she died, or even whether her teacher was testing her.

She simply took a deep breath and took a step forward.

The freefall lasted about three seconds. The wind whistled in her ears, and the fog rushed towards her, growing thicker and thicker. Then her body crashed into a nearly invisible, fine nylon net. It was painted the color of the fog and hung only five meters above the ground. The net was very elastic; she bounced twice before finally lying on it, swaying gently with its movement.

Mai looked up. Mist flowed beneath and around her, and through gaps in the mist, a small patch of gray-blue sky could be seen. For some reason, she suddenly smiled.

The teacher rappelled down from the cliff top and squatted by the net, watching her: "Why are you laughing? Out of ten people who want to learn ninjutsu, only one dares to jump. And the one who jumps down, after finding out he's not dead, will just wail and cry."

Mai Shude replied, "There's no reason. It's very comfortable lying here, with the clouds flowing and the sky above."

The old man remained silent for a long time, so long that she thought her teacher was angry. Finally, he said, "You are more fearless than I thought. You were the kind of ninja from ancient times, but one day, you will die for this reason."

Now, on the edge of this 7900-meter abyss, Mai Shutoku fully understands the meaning of her teacher's words from back then. It wasn't for glory, not for responsibility, not even for any particular person. It was for a wish deeply rooted in her blood, unspoken yet driving every cell forward.

This may be the curse and gift brought by the dragon bloodline: allowing you to see a world that ordinary people cannot see, to feel a power that ordinary people cannot feel, and then giving you a mission that you must fulfill with your life.

Just then, a light suddenly appeared before Mai Shude's eyes.

It was not an illusion. It was real light, emanating from the searchlight at the bow of the Trieste. This ultra-high-pressure mercury lamp, which Caesar called Vasre, suddenly relit. A blinding beam of white-gold light pierced the ancient darkness, illuminating a breathtaking scene ahead.

Almost simultaneously, she felt a violent tremor emanating from the Trieste beneath her. It was no longer the uncontrollable shaking of a fall, but a rhythmic, mechanical vibration, accompanied by the groans of the metal structure under immense stress.

Inside the cockpit, Lu Mingfei was experiencing the most thrilling elevator malfunction of his life.

First, the feeling of weightlessness vanished abruptly; the sensation that had lasted for several minutes, leaving his stomach feeling suspended in mid-air, suddenly disappeared. In its place came an opposite force: a powerful upward acceleration slammed him hard into the seat, his chest squeezed so tightly he could barely breathe. The seatbelt dug deep into his shoulders, and he felt like a specimen nailed to a wooden board.

"Whoosh, creak!"

A series of ear-piercing sounds came from above, like metal being violently bent. It wasn't just one or two sounds, but a whole string of sounds, as if the entire Trieste was being wrung out like a towel by an invisible giant hand.

The sensations of weightlessness and gravitational pull alternated, each transition making Lu Mingfei's heart feel like it was about to leap out of his throat. The Trieste was braking, in an extremely violent, almost self-destructive manner.

He could imagine the scene outside: the safety hook gripped the top ring of the Trieste, and thousands of meters of special steel cables were locked in sections under the control of the hydraulic winch, converting the kinetic energy of the fall into the heat energy of the steel cable stretching and the shrill sound of metal friction.

The numbers on the depth gauge finally stopped jumping wildly.

7900 m.

The pointer trembled slightly before finally settling on that nerve-wracking number. The Trieste hovered precariously in the deep sea, its hull tilting slightly to the left by about fifteen degrees. On the instrument panel, various colored indicator lights flashed wildly for over ten seconds—red, yellow, green, white—like a light show on the verge of going out of control—before snapping and going completely dark.

The cockpit was plunged into absolute darkness.

Lu Mingfei's ears were filled with a variety of sounds: the sharp "whooshing" sound of high-pressure airflow rushing through the pipes; the low pulsation of hydraulic oil being pumped into the braking system; the gurgling sound of cooling water circulating; and the lingering echo of the ship's metal still vibrating slightly.

These sounds intertwined, much like an elderly person who had just finished a marathon, their heart pounding, blood pressure soaring, and blood vessels almost bursting, but ultimately managing to hold on to their last breath and not collapse before the finish line.

In the darkness, the heavy breathing of three people could be heard. No one spoke; everyone slumped in their seats, immersed in the exhaustion of escaping death. Lu Mingfei could even hear his heart pounding frantically in his chest, each beat heavy as if it would shatter his sternum.

"Snapped."

A beam of cold white light suddenly illuminated the room. Caesar had switched on his powerful flashlight. The beam swept across the control panel, which was covered with instruments and valves, and the metal surfaces reflected a dull luster. Caesar's face was unusually pale in the flashlight beam, his forehead was covered in cold sweat, and his golden hair was soaked with sweat and stuck to his forehead in strands. But his hand holding the flashlight was very steady.

“The circuits and pipes are all normal,” Caesar’s voice was a little hoarse as he shone a flashlight on the readings of several key instruments. “The pressure in the No. 4 watertight chamber is stable, it’s a miracle. This old relic has actually held up.”

“That old relic almost killed us all.” Lu Mingfei finally found his voice, only to find his throat dry and sore. “Speaking of which, how did you brake just now? Those sounds didn’t sound good.”

"I've activated the safety hook," Yuan Zhisheng's voice suddenly came through the earpiece, startling Lu Mingfei, who had forgotten the communication was still connected. "The safety rope has you in place. Is the equipment still usable?"

"The circuits and pipes are fine for now, but the whole ship is without power." Caesar shone his flashlight on the main circuit switchboard, where all of the dozen or so circuit breakers had switched to the "off" position.

“This was automatically triggered by the power outage protection system,” Yuan Zhisheng explained. “At a depth of 7900 meters, any power fluctuation could have catastrophic consequences. When the system detects a severe impact or abnormal pressure, it will automatically cut off the main power supply to prevent short circuits and fires. Please check each system. If there is no obvious damage visible, you can try to manually restore power.”

Chu Zihang unbuckled his seatbelt and, with the aid of a flashlight, began to inspect the key valves and instruments one by one.

"The pneumatic system is stable," Chu Zihang reported. "The hydraulic system pressure is within a safe range. The integrity of the outer casing cannot be directly determined from the inside, but at least no water ingress alarm was heard."