Chapter 576

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Protagonist:

Chen Yi

In summer, Baikal Lake is tranquil and beautiful. The mountains on both banks are covered in coniferous forests, and the coniferous forests are in turn blanketed by white snow.

Poplars, firs, and larches common in northern China all have relatives living nearby; they arch their roots to dodge the frequent gales, and only near the lake surface are there stunted shrubs and sparse grass.

A 2,500-ton-class inland river vessel drifts gently out of Deep Bay; the Martial Arts Hall students aboard wear homemade straw rain capes and excitedly strike fishing poses.

Of course, they are not actually going to fish.

The radar in the pilothouse blinks round and round, all searching for Russian vessels.

Baikal Lake is Russia's most important fishery, and also a strategic-grade freshwater reserve center, holding 20% of the world's unfrozen freshwater — that is, one-fifth excluding the glacial freshwater stored in Antarctica and the Arctic; before Baikal Lake's water volume dries up, environmentalists who claim humanity is about to die of thirst are just acting like hooligans… or perhaps they only shout for show.

Not long after leaving the harbor, a 500-ton-class fishing boat appears.

A Martial Arts Hall student instantly gets excited and lets out a "Hey…", like a tourist just arrived.

The Slavs on the opposite fishing boat wave back, equally bored.

The freshwater fish here are quite abundant, and there are quite a few valuable varieties; the fishermen's living is not bad.

The captain asks Du Yilong, who has put on a raincoat: "Select this one?"

"Find a big ship." Du Yilong gazes into the distance ahead, his heart stirred so much he doesn't know what to say.

This is the Northern Sea where Su Wu herded sheep!

Like most military men, Du Yilong also has a territorial complex of defending home and country. He, like the Chen Family, is of standard Army origin; his interest in the ocean is minimal, limited only to the concept of national territory, but Baikal Lake is different — if Baikal Lake could be made into China's inland lake…

He doesn't know how Chen Yi would do it, but from between the lines, Du Yilong can hear that flavor seeping out…

Since Jiangning could achieve today's extent, and the West Continent could achieve today's extent, making a move in Siberia might really be possible?

"There's a fleet, how about that?" The captain interrupts Du Yilong's reverie, his tone calm as if in a library.

Compared to the iron-blooded heroic passion of Army military men, Chinese naval officers who have not won a single victory in 200 years mostly just complete missions; passion and such only erupts a tiny bit when reading the Great Britain Naval Warfare History and the Great Britain Beauty Encyclopedia.

Just a tiny bit at that.

Du Yilong curls his lip, quite disliking the naval captain who fancies himself a gentleman and cultured man; he lowers his binoculars and says forcefully: "According to plan, watch the damage."

"Yes." The captain begins issuing specific orders. He was one of the Xi Family who surrendered back then; now that the Xi father and son have completely faded from people's sight, their power has been divided up and absorbed by the various families.

Sailors dressed as crewmen reply "Yo heave" and turn the helm.

Baikal Lake's average depth is 744 meters, roughly 10 times that of the Yellow Sea, capable of accommodating all human vessels; moreover, storms are frequent here, and large fishing boats often catch taimen, sturgeon, and the locally unique Baikal omul.

The Martial Arts Hall vessel goes full throttle; in about half an hour they see the Russian fleet currently setting nets.

The fishing boats engaged in operations are startled; immediately fishermen shout at them to leave, lest they crash into the operation zone.

Du Yilong was just worrying how to provoke them, but instead commands: "Increase speed."

The captain orders in terminology: "Full speed ahead."

The 2,500-ton fishing boat is no smaller than a 3,000–4,000-ton destroyer; riding wind and breaking waves it charges up, instantly throwing the fishing ground into chaos.

The small boats desperately dodging can only throw out harpoons and helplessly give way; one 100-ton-class little fellow nearly gets capsized by a wave due to the Martial Arts Hall fishing boat's sudden turn.

As a result, not only is the fleet's day's catch ruined, but also

A Slav who cannot restrain his temper produces a long spear that might be from the Russo-Japanese War era, and recklessly pulls the trigger.

With a "Bang", a bit muffled, it finally rouses morale.

Du Yilong "hehe" laughs and says: "They fired first, good, we charge past them, return course."

"Yes, return course." The captain hurriedly issues the order; he doesn't want to be shot to death by random gunfire. Historically, naval commanders who died under rifles are quite shameful existences.

The 2,500-ton fishing boat swings its head, heading back toward the Deep Bay from which it came; its flat hull sways unsteadily, as if it hadn't caused any destruction at all.

The Slavs on the fishing boats are naturally furious, especially the few boats whose gear was damaged; they pursue without hesitation, since there's nothing else to do today anyway.

Du Yilong's is a modified new ship; starting two engines lets it run pleasantly fast; the pursuing fishing boats fall farther and farther behind, yet ultimately they still follow.

When nearing Deep Bay, Du Yilong raises his binoculars again and counts: "One two three four, five boats, not bad either; Captain, let's slow down a bit, lure them into port."

"Understood."

The 2,500-ton fishing boat weaves back and forth, gradually returning to the simple dock at Deep Bay.

The pursuing fishing boats hesitate a moment, then still follow up; especially that fisherman with the old Russo-Japanese War gun, sharpening his knife in preparation for a big fight.

Anyone who lives by plundering natural resources possesses a heroic spirit of battling heaven and earth, or one could say a reckless, primitive rashness. The same physical labor — farmers are synonymous with honest and docile; if they can't trick a fairy into descending, they usually till the earth for a lifetime. Miners, lumberjacks, fishermen give people an entirely different impression; robust muscles and fiery tempers often represent the most desperate groups…

Du Yilong's fishing boat not only disturbed their day's harvest, but also damaged quite a few things; regardless of whether they can get compensation, teaching them a lesson is never wrong.

Amid quite intense vengeful emotions, the five fishing boats finally see the simple dock.

"When did this place get something?" The sailors on the first fishing boat all run up to the deck.

Before them stands almost a modern military fortress.

Concrete walls and iron fences, looking exactly like a concentration camp in a movie.

"Thud"

A mortar shell lands in the water.

"Bang bang bang"

This time it's the M2 Browning's three-round burst.

"Disembark, all disembark." Du Yilong's subordinates also draw light and heavy weapons, turn and head for the Russians' boats.

The old gun owner touches his old gun, then is held back by the frantic crew.

After all, they are only fishermen; in a lifetime they may never have seen a shell explode at close range.

Compared to them, the captain beside Du Yilong should be even more embarrassed — no matter how much gunfire, a naval officer never gets enough of it.

Five fishing boats, under the watch of heavy machine guns and under the command of Du Yilong's fishing boat, docked at the simple dock one after another.

"Everyone get off the boat." Du Yilong patted his raincoat, feeling like even his underwear was about to be soaked through.

The place where Su Wu herded sheep, the natural conditions could hardly be good.

"Are you pirates?" The fishermen had reason to be puzzled. Although Baikal Lake has an area no less than coastal waters and a depth exceeding coastal waters, it is ultimately a lake; who would be pirates who cannot escape, and more importantly, what would they rob to get rich?

The fishermen only have fish, which does not meet the cash-seeking pirates' demand.

Du Yilong touched his ear and smiled, borrowing the konjac to speak, his voice a bit strange: "You intruded into our fishing ground."

"What?"

"This is our fishing ground, what's so hard to understand?"

"Our ancestors have fished here for generations."

"Oh, your boats are confiscated; don't come here to fish anymore, understand?"

The fishermen naturally refused, but were forcibly dragged out.

The captain looked on with some pity, saying: "They are poor laborers after all."

"After they row into the Siberian Field Headquarters, we will compensate them." Du Yilong couldn't be bothered to deal with this idiot navy; if everything were fair and just, why would everyone build warships and maintain a navy?

The Chinese Navy is used to failure, yet always places itself in the victim's position, grieving for a kindred spirit.

Du Yilong shook his head, returned to his warm barracks, and began writing the first report.

On the third afternoon, police from Irkutsk Oblast approached the concrete camp; after a brief exchange of fire, the police shouted: "What you are doing is wrong."

"Don't understand."

"Don't you know Russian? Call someone who knows Russian out."

"Don't understand."

"If you don't surrender, we're going to charge."

"Come on then, little ones!"

The sky quickly darkened; the police certainly wouldn't trade their own lives for the country's territorial dignity — that was the spirit of the former Soviet era. Current police chiefs prefer extortion; of course, this is also a high-end skill passed down from the former Soviet era.

At least they didn't use it this time.

Next came another round of anti-aircraft gunfire and shouting.

It took the Irkutsk Oblast military police a week to reach the deep bay via different roads; they brought an armored vehicle — although the other three broke down on the road, they did have one armored vehicle after all.

"You come out, otherwise we'll use the cannon." The police referred to a 20mm autocannon.

Du Yilong, Yi Ran unafraid, laughed with a "hiss": "Just afraid you won't use it."

"If we fight, will it be okay?" His captain was precisely the camp's deputy position, specifically in charge of those few thin-skinned boats.

"If we fight it's their fault; what fault do we have?" Du Yilong spoke with absolute certainty.

Needless to say, the captain could instantly think of a string of charges like "illegal entry," "robbery of ships and kidnapping of crew." He barely held them back.

Du Yilong laughed quite proudly: "Not so? We're just stirring up a dispute; rest assured, if it blows up, no one can clean up the mess."

The captain, however, was quite pessimistic: "One missile, and our camp is done for."

"That's best; hundreds dead, we can change national policy." Du Yilong's psychological preparation was solid; he never thought of going home smoothly anyway — what would be the point of that?

The captain was someone who wanted to go home; his little face was pale white.

"Look at your prospects; you're from the Mawei Navy, right?"

Du Yilong's words had just fallen when the 20mm cannon started popping like firecrackers, smashing down a circle of concrete fragments, then rapidly stopped, like a lightning cannon taken apart by a child.

"Lame." Du Yilong spat out a mouthful of ash and ordered: "Shoot its tracks."

The 8th Rank Martial Arts Hall Student's hands were as steady as a precision machine tool; the specially selected anti-materiel rifle braced against his shoulder, he didn't feel that powerful recoil at all.

With two "bang bang" sounds, the armored vehicle in front visibly paused; the military police below were also dazed.

This kind of firepower was obviously beyond their expectations!

"Looks like we can only report to the higher-ups." The police chief was quite happy; this kind of tricky case, better to hand it to those wanting promotion to handle.

……(Unfinished. If you like this work, welcome to Qidian (qidian. com) to cast recommendation tickets, monthly tickets; your support is my greatest motivation.)