Liu Yong's phone buzzed, and a call from Ren Ziquan lit up the screen. With a knowing glance, Liu Yong picked up the call. The situation over there was crystal clear to him; he'd been meticulously observing events unfolding at sea through an intermediary's perspective.
"Ren Ziquan," Liu Yong spoke calmly, his voice infused with unwavering confidence, "There's no need to let fear cloud our judgment. They're powerless against us."
The assertion carried an air of certainty, each word spoken like a shield against trepidation.
Ren Ziquan's racing heart found solace in Liu Yong's self-assured tone. As the tension ebbed away, Ren's voice steadied, "Captain, they're hailing us!"
In haste, a crew member barged into the room, his anxiety palpable. "Captain, they're shouting at us!" he panted.
"Stay composed," Ren Ziquan soothed, his words aimed at both the crew member and himself. "Disregard their words; their bark holds no weight."
Across the channel, the warships' demands grew louder, their commands delivered in stern Mandarin. They ordered the "Blue Whale" and "Shiwang" to halt instantly and submit to inspection, warning of escalated measures should their demands be ignored.
Amidst the tumult, resentment boiled over. "This is the open seas, a waterway shared by nations," grumbled one seaman.
"The audacity is beyond measure, pure bullying," another chimed in, a blend of frustration and indignation lacing his words.
"Full throttle it is then," someone suggested fervently, their agitation manifesting as a resolve to collide headlong and risk the confrontation. "Break their nets, even if it means breaking ours."
Muttered exchanges buzzed like a beehive, opinions clashing and emotions churning.
Initially cloaked in apprehension, the crew's fear gradually transformed into a smouldering fury. The perceived injustice became a weight that rested heavily on their hearts.
"Captain, why not meet their challenge head-on?" a voice piped up, a hint of defiance underpinning the words. "We ram into them; I refuse to believe they're invincible."
Ren Ziquan's voice tempered the fervour, his words resonating with reason, "Charging at them would jeopardize our ship as well. That's a last-resort measure we can't afford."
Amid the tension, a pressing question arose. "Captain, what's our course then? They won't remain idle for long."
"We might just witness a miracle," Ren mused. "Remember a few days back, the Black Iron Company's vessel vanished beneath the waves?"
Collective gasps erupted.
A spark of hope ignited in the crew's eyes. The possibility of the warships inexplicably plummeting to the ocean's depths tantalized their thoughts.
For the seasoned crew members, familiarity with shipwrecks made the notion all the more tangible. They'd witnessed such tragedies before; this was far from uncharted territory.
"Could lightning strike twice?" someone wondered aloud, drawing parallels between the present predicament and the recent maritime disaster.
"Imagine if these warships met the same fate," another mused, their voice vibrant with newfound optimism.
Ren Ziquan's proclamation resonated, his words echoing with a sense of assurance, "Stay unfazed. Our objective is to outpace them, to vanish into the horizon."
"Both 'Blue Whale' and 'Shiwang,' engage maximum propulsion!" The command rang out, synchronized like a heartbeat, and the vessels surged forward.
Beneath the undulating surface, a shadowy presence loomed—Overlord, vigilant over the unfolding drama. The ships were observed, the warships monitored, and the submerged submarine tracked every move. The waters held their secrets close, a tableau of intrigue far from resolved.
Overlord, his watchful eyes trained on the rising submarine, contemplated his next move. A voice, a trusted advisor named Liu Yong, piped up, "Master, the submarine is beginning to surface. Shall we neutralize it before it poses a threat?"
Liu Yong, deeply aware of the unfolding situation, observed the submarine's emergence from the depths. After a thoughtful pause, he responded, "Proceed without hesitation. Sink the submarine first, then engage the two warships that flank it."
Elation danced within Overlord as he clutched his imposing spear, a behemoth of a weapon fit for a figure of his stature. Silently, he slipped through the water, his immense frame carrying him toward the unsuspecting submarine.
Meanwhile, in a remote naval command center located thousands of kilometers away, the corridors echoed with urgency. Technicians monitored the colossal screen, which displayed real-time satellite imagery capturing the maritime events.
On this screen, the "Blue Whale" and "Shiwang" surged forward, flanked on either side by two warships, forming a protective vanguard. At the helm of this operation was Nation E's navy four-star admiral, Matthew Ryan. His authoritative presence commanded the room, as he held the reins of the E country's naval strategy.
The alliance between countries E and M stood as a testament to shared objectives and the promise of abundant returns. This cooperative endeavor, aside from the diplomatic alignment, bore the potential to secure substantial benefits for Nation E. These encompassed a bounty of metal fragments, ranging from 50,000 to 60,000 tons, and an additional 10,000 tons. Moreover, the pact pledged the provision of advanced weaponry and equipment, including the coveted new anti-submarine helicopter that had long lured Matthew Ryan's ambitions.
Matthew Ryan's voice resonated with determination, "Gentlemen, escape is futile. Announce a final warning, or else we shall resort to boarding by force."
A strategic officer affirmed, "Sir, the matter is settled. Our control over these two vessels is imminent."
Displaying a calculated resolve, Matthew Ryan declared, "Cease further warnings. Initiate the order—our elite commando unit shall engage!"
"Understood, General!"
Amid the expanse of the ocean, Overlord had now reached the submarine's side. The vessel hovered on the brink of the water's surface, its periscope yet to dip beneath.
Within the confined quarters of the submarine, oblivious to the looming danger, the occupants busied themselves with their tasks. Unbeknownst to them, a colossal force had infiltrated their surroundings.
Overlord, armed with his gargantuan spear, took aim at the vulnerable submarine. His weapon, an extension of his formidable might, collided with the vessel's formidable hull. This was no ordinary feat, for Overlord had once accomplished the unimaginable—a nuclear submarine had succumbed to his might. Yet, this time, the challenge exceeded all prior expectations.
With a thunderous impact, the spear drove forward. The vessel's shell resisted, a testament to its resilience. But the prodigious Overlord, his mass exceeding 1,000 tons, was a force to be reckoned with. With determination akin to an elemental force, he wielded his spear of more than 200 tons, puncturing the hull in a single, resolute strike.
An echoing boom reverberated through the waters, bearing witness to the immense power at play. The spear's penetration was a resounding success, punctuating the vessel's vulnerability. Overlord retracted his weapon, readying it for a follow-up assault. Again and again, the spear struck, a relentless barrage that left the submarine's occupants reeling.
Inside the submarine, chaos erupted. Panic seized the sailors of country M as they grappled with the unthinkable—an assault from an undetected adversary. The submarine's commander, his voice tinged with alarm, demanded answers, "What is happening?!"
Uncertainty clouded the minds of all aboard. The source of this calamity remained shrouded in mystery; it was neither torpedo nor collision with the seafloor, for the submarine navigated a depth of at least 2,000 meters.
But before comprehension could set in, a second reverberation echoed through the hull. The submarine shook once more, a harbinger of dire circumstances.
A chilling premonition overcame the commander. The imminent danger was palpable.
In an instant, the sea's tranquility shattered as a colossal metal cylinder impaled the submarine's exterior. It tore through the hull, claiming a life in its destructive path.
The command room, a bastion of discipline, dissolved into disarray. Awe mingled with terror as the crew struggled to fathom the inconceivable intrusion. How could such a massive cylinder have infiltrated their sanctuary?
Before comprehension dawned, the cylinder was retracted, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. Seawater surged inward, a relentless tide of intrusion.
Within the submarine, screams echoed—a symphony of panic and despair. The vessel, breached and besieged, faced inevitable demise. Overlord's assault had rendered it a sieve, the aggressor's might irresistible.
Overlord's triumphant gaze lingered on the ailing submarine. Swiftly, he turned his attention toward a nearby warship—the next target in his calculated assault. With his colossal spear poised, he descended toward the warship's underbelly, determination emanating from every fiber of his being.
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