Chapter 125: Bismarck Class

8 a. m., Revival Hall.

Three hundred oak chairs were filled with people, dark‑blue Zhongshan jackets and military uniforms intermingled, and the air was scented with ink and leather briefcases. Wang Bo stood at the side door of the hall, watching the packed venue, and softly said to Chen Feng beside him, "Young Master, everyone's here."

Chen Feng nodded, adjusted his collar. He was wearing a dark‑gray stand‑collar Zhongshan suit today, its only adornment a steel pen tucked in the left chest pocket.

"Everyone, please be quiet."

When Chen Feng stepped onto the podium, the hall fell silent at once. Behind him hung a massive Yellow Dragon flag, and beneath it a panoramic map of the Persian Gulf, marked in red and blue with countless construction projects.

"Today is January 15, 1911." Chen Feng's voice, amplified by a newly installed Deguo loudspeaker, rang through the hall, "Three years ago on this very day, we stood here—back then it was just an empty lot—and announced the launch of the 'Three‑Year Assault' plan."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over every face in the audience.

"Now, the three years have ended." Chen Feng pulled a thick report from his briefcase, "This is the summary prepared by Minister Wang Wenwu. But first I'd like to ask everyone present—how do you think we've done over these three years?"

A low murmur rose from the audience. Liu Yongfu, seated in the front row, adjusted his glasses, about to stand and speak, but Chen Feng waved his hand to stop him.

"No need for numbers, just tell me how it feels." Chen Feng stepped down from the podium, strolling slowly down the aisle, "Commander Zhao, you go first."

Zhao Dazhan sprang up with a "swish," his back straight as a rod: "Report to the President! The feeling is—our backs are stiff! Three years ago our army had only two thousand broken rifles; now? My troops have whatever they need—machine guns, submachine guns, artillery!"

Laughter and applause erupted.

"Chief Engineer Liu, what about you?"

Liu Yongfu rose slowly, having deliberately worn a newly made Zhongshan suit today, though the collar remained habitually open: "President, I'll say just one thing—last month a delegation from the German Krupp Company visited our special steel plant, and the chief engineer, after inspecting the rolling mill, whispered to me, 'Did you guys travel back from the future?'"

Even louder laughter.

Chen Feng also laughed, "Why would he ask that?"

"Because our steel plates keep tolerances within 0.5 mm, while they're still struggling at 1.5 mm," Liu Yongfu said. "And we use fully welded construction; they're still riveted. That German old man shook his head and sighed all the way out."

Thunderous applause.

【9】 Chen Feng returned to the podium, "Alright, now I'll present the figures."

Chen Feng walked back to the podium: "Alright, then now I'll report the data."

He opened to the first page of the report.

"Population: at the end of 1906, 460,000. At the end of 1910, 1,527,300. An increase of 1,060,000 over three years."

He turned the page.

"Industry: annual steel output rose from 50,000 tons to 350,000 tons. Power generation increased from 20,000 kW to 120,000 kW. Shipbuilding capacity grew from three capital ships per year to eight."

He turned another page.

"Navy: twelve capital ships delivered, four under construction. Over five thousand foreign sailors trained."

"Army: expanded from three regiments to two fully formed divisions, all equipped with domestically produced weapons."

"Infrastructure: built 800 km of new railway, 1,800 km of road, 24,000 housing units, sixty schools, and added a thousand hospital beds."

Chen Feng closed the report and lifted his head.

"These figures were earned by three hundred thousand people over three years, each working more than ten hours a day. Every ton of steel, every kilowatt‑hour, every shell was produced by our own workers."

He paused for three seconds, letting the words settle.

"So today, we're not planning how to live the next three years." Chen Feng's voice rose sharply, "We're planning—how to win in the next three years!"

The hall fell into silence.

"Win what?" Chen Feng asked himself, "Regain our homeland. Regain a hundred years of dignity for South Ocean Chinese. Regain a home where future generations can live in peace."

He turned and pointed to the map behind him.

"But our current pace isn't enough," Chen Feng said. "We need to go faster—fast enough that the enemy can't react, fast enough that history can't catch up with us."

Liu Yongfu exchanged glances with a few engineers beside him. They knew that whenever the President used this tone, it meant…

"So today," Chen Feng patted the three steel boxes on the podium, "I'll show you something—something that might keep you up at night."

The three steel boxes sat side by side on a long table, each half a meter long and thirty centimeters wide, coated with anti‑rust paint and edged with brass. White labels affixed to the lids, brushed in calligraphy, read "A · Top Secret," "B · Top Secret," "C · Top Secret."

Chen Feng pulled three keys from his pocket and handed them to Wang Bo: "Open them."

Clack, clack, clack.

Three crisp metallic clicks, the latch sprang open. Wang Bo stepped back, and Chen Feng himself lifted the first lid.

Blueprints.

A thick stack of blueprints, wrapped in linen, the edges tinged yellow. Chen Feng pulled the top sheet, unfolded it with both hands—it was a side view of a battleship, its lines so clean they were almost cold.

"What is this?" Liu Yongfu, already standing, stared intently at the drawing.

"Our next‑generation capital ship," Chen Feng said. "Internal code 'Bismarck Class'; we expect this battleship will be exported to Deguo, so we gave it a German name."

He walked to the blackboard and wrote a few numbers in chalk:

Standard displacement: 41,700 metric tons.

Full load displacement: 50,300 metric tons.

Length overall: 251 m.

Waterline length: 241.60 m.

Beam: 36 m.

Standard draft: 9.30 m.

Power plant: twelve Wagner‑type fuel‑overheated water‑tube boilers, three geared turbines, three triple‑propeller shafts.

Power output: 110,450 kW.

Speed: 30 knots (56 km/h).

Range: 8,525 nautical miles at 19 knots.

Crew: 103 officers, 1,962 enlisted.

Armament:

Main Gun: eight 380 mm SKC/34 rapid‑fire guns, in four twin mounts, maximum range 36,520 m, muzzle velocity 820 m/s, with a total of 940–960 shells.

Secondary guns: twelve 150 mm C/28 rapid‑fire guns in six twin mounts; sixteen 105 mm SKC/33 anti‑aircraft guns in eight twin mounts.

Air‑defense weapons: sixteen 37 mm SKC/30 rapid‑fire guns, twenty 20 mm Model 30 anti‑aircraft guns (20×1).

Armor protection:

Armour Belt: 320 mm.

Main Gun turret: 130–360 mm.

Upper deck: 50–80 mm.

Third armor deck: 80–120 mm.

Command tower: 220–350 mm.

Each time a number was written, a gasp rose from the audience. When "30 knots" appeared, several naval officers sprang up from their seats.

"30 knots?" Li Te's voice changed tone, "President, the fastest battleship in the world now is only 23 knots! The Restoration Ship's limit is 31 knots, but that's under light‑load conditions!"

"So this is the next generation," Chen Feng said calmly, "fuel‑oil boiler with steam turbine, quad‑axis propulsion. We have calculated that with the new hull design, 29 knots can be reached."

Liu Yongfu had already stepped onto the stage, picked up the blueprint and examined it carefully. His hand was trembling.

"Anti‑air firepower?"

Chen Feng nodded. "The Americans have already taken to the blue sky; the future belongs to the air!"