Chapter 106: To Fight, To Withdraw, or To Negotiate!

2:00 PM, Dubai Port Pier No. 3.

Dong Xiang Pingbalo declined the guide's arranged tour bus and chose to walk. He was in civilian clothes—a dark brown suit and a Panama straw hat—looking like an ordinary traveler. Only his upright posture and sharp eyes gave away his military identity.

Ji Song Mao Tai Lang and Lieutenant Xiao Ye followed three steps behind, like two silent shadows.

The port area was larger than Dong Xiang had imagined. It was not the cramped old‑style ports of London or Hamburg; the layout was almost textbook: container zone, bulk cargo zone, oil zone, passenger zone were clearly separated, and the asphalt roads were wide enough for four trucks side by side. The cranes were a uniform blue‑gray, their control cabins fully enclosed, and through the glass one could see operators handling the levers.

"They're using electric cranes," Ji Song Mao Tai Lang whispered in Japanese, "Look, no steam‑boiler smokestacks."

Dong Xiang nodded. He noticed more details: all pipelines and cables ran underground or on aerial walkways, the ground was free of tangled lines; workers wore uniform dark‑blue overalls, their hard‑hat colors varied—yellow for operators, red for supervisors, white for technicians; even the street‑cleaning crew pushed well‑designed three‑wheel garbage carts.

It was a city drawn with blueprints and rulers, every detail calculated.

"Sir," Lieutenant Xiao Ye suddenly pointed into the distance, "Is that the 'Restoration Ship'?"

Dong Xiang looked where he pointed. Between two warehouses a sliver of a massive dark‑gray hull could be seen. Even a tenth of it conveyed an overwhelming presence—the hull's lines were starkly austere, the armor plate angles meticulously calculated, and the arrangement of the secondary gun turrets was unlike anything he had ever seen.

"Go around and take a look," Dong Xiang said.

They walked along the pier's edge, bypassing a stack of timber yards. The closer they got, the more the Scale of the 'Restoration Ship' could be felt. When the whole vessel finally came into full view, even Dong Xiang couldn't help but halt.

Nearly three hundred meters long, over forty thousand tons displacement—figures he had read countless times in reports. Yet a line of text on paper and the sight of that steel wall stretching before his eyes were entirely different experiences.

The hull was undergoing routine maintenance. Several aerial work platforms were perched on the side, workers cleaning the armor plates. The Main Gun turret's barrel was covered with canvas, but its silhouette revealed a bore exceeding 350 mm, perhaps up to 380 mm.

"God…" Ji Song Mao Tai Lang muttered, this time in English.

Dong Xiang remained silent. He removed his straw hat, letting the sea breeze ruffle his silver‑streaked hair. He stood like that for a full ten minutes, studying the bow's wave‑cutting lines, the smokestack layout, the intricate antenna arrays atop the superstructure—surely advanced fire‑control or communications gear.

Then he saw a person.

A young officer descended the ship's side ladder, wearing a dark‑blue training uniform, stars on his shoulder boards glinting in the sun. He appeared twenty‑five or twenty‑six, his stride light yet steady, briefing a few sailors beside him. The sailors stood at attention, listened, then saluted and dispersed.

The young officer turned and happened to see Dong Xiang's party. He froze briefly, then recognized Dong Xiang—photos of Dong Xiang Pingbalo were scarce outside Japan, yet senior naval officers of every nation were required to know that face.

The officer walked over, stopped three steps in front of Dong Xiang, and rendered a standard military salute.

"Admiral Dong Xiang Pingbalo, Sir. I am Lin Hai, captain of the Lanfang Navy's 'Revival' battlecruiser."

His Japanese carried an accent, but the grammar was precise. Dong Xiang returned a nod—appropriate etiquette for a foreign officer.

"Captain Lin," Dong Xiang replied in Japanese, "'Revival'… is it the sister ship of the 'Restoration Ship'?"

"Same‑class vessel, but with slight design optimizations," Lin Hai switched back to English, clearly Japanese wasn't his strong suit, "Sir, are you touring the port?"

"Yes. Before departing I wanted to see this… impressive city."

A brief silence fell between them. The sea breeze carried a salty brine and the distant scent of welding fumes.

"Captain Lin," Dong Xiang suddenly asked, "What is the hull's transverse tilt angle when the 'Restoration Ship' executes its minimum‑radius turn?"

The question was technical and abrupt. Shan Ben and Lieutenant Xiao Ye both looked at Lin Hai, waiting to see his reaction.

Lin Hai smiled—not a mocking grin, but a pure smile that comes from hearing an interesting question.

"Sir, that question falls under operational data," he said, "If you require it, you may formally petition the Lanfang Navy Department. Of course, approval depends on the foreign affairs office's opinion."

A watertight reply—neither rude nor revealing any information.

Dong Xiang also smiled. It was his first genuine smile of the day, wrinkles gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"I understand. Then another question—From a captain's professional perspective, what is the 'Restoration Ship's' greatest advantage? Firepower? Armor? Or speed?"

Lin Hai thought for a few seconds. He looked at the 'Restoration Ship' on the sea, pride in his eyes, but more so the weight of responsibility.

"None of those," he said, "The greatest advantage is 'balance'. Firepower, armor, speed, range, seaworthiness… each is not the strongest, yet each reaches an excellent level and integrates perfectly. Like an army: a single soldier may not be outstanding, but the whole system operating together yields tenfold power."

The answer exceeded Dong Xiang's expectations. He had expected figures like a '381 mm Main Gun' or '30‑knot speed', but Lin Hai spoke philosophy.

"System…" Dong Xiang repeated, "An interesting viewpoint. In the Japanese Navy we stress 'spiritual power'."

"Spiritual power is important," Lin Hai nodded, "But spiritual power needs steel to bear it. Our sailors know the ship beneath their feet is among the world's finest battleships. That confidence itself is combat power."

Another gust of sea wind blew. In the distance a ship's whistle blew as a cargo vessel pulled away from the harbor.

"Captain Lin," Dong Xiang asked finally, "If— I mean if— the 'Restoration Ship' met Japan's newest battleship on the high seas, what outcome would you envision?"

The question had crossed a line. Shan Ben anxiously looked at Lin Hai, then at Dong Xiang, unsure why the admiral asked so bluntly.

Lin Hai gave Dong Xiang a cold glance:

"It is now 1906. Technological progress isn't linear; it's a leap. From 'Pre‑Dreadnought' to 'Dreadnought' was one leap. From 'Dreadnought' to 'Super Dreadnought' was another. And the 'Restoration Ship'… belongs to the next leap."

"So what's the answer?" Dong Xiang pressed.

"The answer is that there is no answer," Lin Hai said, "Because a true naval commander would never pit his flagship against an unknown opponent under unfavorable conditions. If it were me, I'd keep distance, use a scout ship to ascertain the enemy, then decide whether to fight, to withdraw, or to negotiate."