Chapter 38

The missiles across the shore were still formidable; sending a B25 over to provoke them was merely a fantasy.

Tang Wen ultimately just circled a deserted sea area, and at this hour not even a single fishing boat was in sight.

He randomly picked a spot to drop the 3000-pound bombs from the magazine, watched a few hundred fish turn belly-up, then returned the bomber to the carrier for landing.

Although the aft deck of the Hornet was piled high with aircraft, thanks to the commander's powerful control mechanisms, the B25 touched down squarely in the center of the deck and came to a steady stop after sliding less than eighty meters.

If Newton had seen this, he'd probably have kicked open his coffin lid and shouted, "This is unscientific!"

Yet Tang Wen and Tang Yi both disembarked unharmed; the sun was just about to set, and lights across the harbor flickered on one by one, revealing a scene of bustling prosperity.

Judging purely by scale, the harbor's value far surpassed that of the shipyard; with a bit of management, it might even replace Dayuan Town.

After all, the harbor could also produce large quantities of side dishes, giving it considerable competitiveness even in this era.

Compared to the plain shipyard, Tang Wen preferred to stay in the harbor.

He entered the hotel occupying the best central terrain and found its sign read "Gaijin Hotel"—a twelve-story grand building with luxurious interior decor, leather accents visible everywhere.

Since only staff were present in the harbor, the streets and hotel felt eerily quiet.

Tang Wen walked up to the front desk; the golden-haired lobby manager respectfully offered the commander the presidential suite on the top floor and informed him the buffet restaurant was open.

The restaurant occupied the seven highest floors, decorated in classic 1940s style, with walls paneled in soft padding and gold wallpaper, and elaborate crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.

On both sides of the restaurant were semi-open glass cabinets: the lower sections held dishes pre-prepared by the kitchen, while the upper sections were filled with desserts and fruits.

In a corner of the restaurant stood an expensive-looking piano, beside which was a stage for live orchestral performances.

In any era, the highest forms of luxury are always available.

Tang Wen watched all this with quiet astonishment; before his time travel, the most expensive hotel he'd stayed in was a four-star seaside hotel during the off-season, but in terms of ambiance and class, this harbor hotel far surpassed it.

There was no help for it—this was the special privilege of Navy fools.

Take the neighboring island nation, whose people lived comfortably enough: in the late stages of WWII, the Army's beef cans were filled with tallow and offal as filler; ordinary soldiers' rations later weren't even as good as Eighth Route Army rations, barely enough to fill their bellies.

Some conscripted child soldiers even became tenant farmers for landlords in Shandong just to get enough to eat…

But what about the Navy during the same period? The Combined Fleet maintained its pre-war levels of daily supplies right up until defeat.

Take the Yamato as an example: officers at captain level had private kitchens, with desserts, fruits, sashimi, red wine—all indispensable—and even on the warship, a military band played during meals!

Even the lowest-ranking sailors were regularly served steamed white rice balls, sushi, grilled meat, and there was even a dedicated ice cream machine.

This wasn't just the Combined Fleet—navies of all nations nearly matched the air force in treatment; a sailor's salary could easily support bars, upscale restaurants, geishas, and other high-consumption luxuries—genuine middle-class lives.

Gaijin Harbor was no different; its entire purpose was to serve at least ten thousand sailors while maintaining a high quality of life, nearly identical to real history.

As soon as Tang Wen and Tang Yi entered, attendants immediately greeted them, laid out all the tableware, and poured coffee.

As special personnel, Tang Wen could even order dishes to be freshly prepared.

Sitting on the comfortably firm chair, Tang Yi nearly wept.

After being summoned by the commander for half a month, he'd finally eaten something resembling decent food.

The shipyard cafeteria only met basic needs; while the grease wasn't bad, it barely scraped by.

Even when they went to Echeng last time, they hadn't seen a single decent restaurant.

Only upon entering the harbor hotel did Tang Yi truly feel his status as chief designer.

And Tang Wen, across from him, felt much the same: life in his 1996 village had been unbearably dull; this harbor hotel gave him the sensation of returning to civilization.

Both immediately dropped their pretenses; plate after plate of delicate desserts and dishes arrived, and they buried their heads, eating without pause.

After devouring two lobsters, a platter of tuna, oysters, and countless other seafoods, Tang Wen, still unsatisfied, forked into a pineapple-spaghetti dish, overcome with emotion.

The slightly weaker old man Tang Yi politely swirled his wine glass, as if the man who'd just devoured a whole roasted suckling pig hadn't been him at all.

The harbor's meals used generous ingredients, and the chefs' skills were top-notch—comparable even to the future.

"Commander, I request relocating the dormitories of all mid-level and above personnel to Gaijin Hotel."

Tang Wen nodded with his cheeks puffed out, then added after swallowing the last bite of spaghetti:

"I think it'd be great to work from here too—there are coconut trees planted outside, good for everyone's physical and mental health."

The old man and the young man were in perfect agreement, savoring dessert, when they saw attendants loading untouched dishes onto a serving cart.

Tang Wen, curious, asked:

"What's this for?"

"Commander, these are dishes that have been sitting over one hour. Unlike desserts, their flavor has noticeably declined and must be removed. Some will become staff meals, others will be promptly discarded.

Rest assured, the kitchen operates a 24-hour rotation system to ensure any guest arriving at the restaurant always enjoys ample, fresh cuisine."

Looking at the nearly endless glass display cases, Tang Wen immediately realized how much food was being thrown away.

And with a one-hour rotation for hot dishes, the volume of discarded food alone was astronomical.

He checked his panel and saw the harbor's monthly fixed expenditure was 800 silver coins—far higher than the shipyard's minimum of 450 silver coins.

Actually, this was still relatively cheap, since the harbor had more buildings and personnel than the shipyard, consumed nearly the same amount of electricity, and didn't even include massive material supplies.

Six hundred silver coins were negligible in comparison, especially since it was a fixed cost.

But this didn't include ship fuel—the oil depot here, capable of storing fifty thousand tons of heavy oil, was completely empty.

Tang Wen immediately realized this was a chance to exploit the system and quickly said:

"Pack up all the dishes scheduled for removal and send them to the shipyard for extra meals."

It was only eight o'clock—perfect time to improve the shipyard's rations.

At that moment, Tang Yi beside him reminded him:

"The bay and the shipyard are nearly two kilometers apart, and there's no road—trucks would shake everything to pieces. Use a boat."

In fact, not only was there no road, but the harbor's land didn't even belong to Tang Wen—technically, this was illegal occupation.

But fortunately, the entire area fell under Dayuan Village's jurisdiction; all it took was a note from the village chief.

As for building a two-kilometer road… the system had no such option. Figure it out yourself.

Since the harbor sat inside a C-shaped bay, backed by mountains, constructing a coastal highway wouldn't be simple.

Fortunately, the shipyard is also by the sea; for short-term travel, taking a small boat is more convenient.

Tang Wen recalled the surrounding layout in his mind, and a development plan surged to his heart.