Chapter 4: Hit

"Mr. Chen, I noticed a detail." Tirpitz suddenly stopped, "On your deck there are no those messy boat davits, small boats, junk storage areas. All auxiliary equipment is stored in dedicated compartments?"

"Yes, General." Chen Feng nodded, "We call it 'Streamlined Deck Design'. In wartime it reduces fragment damage; in peacetime it facilitates maintenance and operation. All lifeboats are stored in dedicated compartments amidships, released quickly via a sliding rail system."

"Smart." Tirpitz whispered to the Deguo shipbuilding expert beside him, "Write it down. This is far more advanced than the Naso class we are designing."

Admiral Haus was more concerned with personnel arrangement. He noted that even in a state of preparing to set sail, there were fewer than thirty sailors on the deck, and each one's movements were extremely orderly, lacking the usual chaos of ordinary navies. All of this, of course, was thanks to the sailor training manual in Chen Feng's computer.

"Mr. Chen, your crew… how long have they been trained?"

"The first batch of core crew trained for eighteen months," Chen Feng said frankly, "Subsequent replacements, with the system already in place, can have a training cycle shortened to nine months."

"Eighteen months…" Haus chuckled wryly, "We need two years to train a qualified Main Gun aimer."

"Efficiency issue, Your Excellency," Chen Feng smiled, "Our training system is standardized; each step has detailed operation manuals and assessment criteria. You will see our training documents shortly."

General Lu Han of Argentina was the most direct. He walked straight to the forward Main Gun turret, looking up at the two blackened 305‑mm barrels.

"May I see the Shell?"

"Of course."

Chen Feng signaled Captain Li Te. The forty‑year‑old former South Ocean Chinese merchant ship captain now wore a dark‑blue uniform, his gestures already bearing the bearing of a professional soldier.

"Open ammunition magazine No. 1 lift," Li Te ordered in Chinese.

A heavy armored plate on the deck slid open slowly, revealing a bottomless well. Seconds later, a platform rose, holding two 305‑mm Shells. The projectiles were streamlined, their brass casings flashing a dark‑gold hue in the sunlight.

"High‑explosive Shell, loaded with 86 kg of TNT," Li Te introduced fluently in English, "Armor‑piercing Shell, tip hardened, can penetrate 280 mm of vertical armor."

"TNT?" Tirpitz keenly caught the term, "You use trinitrotoluene? Not picric acid?"

"Yes, General. TNT is more stable, safer, and more powerful," Chen Feng explained, "We have a small chemical plant in the northern mountain region that produces it."

Yet another leading technology. In 1905, most navies still used picric acid explosives; that material was unstable, prone to self‑ignition, and a ship hit by a Shell often sparked catastrophic fires. TNT would not be widely adopted until several years later.

"Everyone, please take seats on the bridge," Chen Feng glanced at his pocket watch, "The firing demonstration will begin in thirty minutes."

Inside the bridge, representatives of the three nations were seated on the observation platform. The view was superb, with a 270‑degree panoramic window that clearly displayed the sea in all directions. What shocked Tirpitz even more was that the bridge interior housed an entire row of instruments and communications gear—mechanical computers, telephone exchanges, electric speaking tubes, and even a set of primitive radio equipment.

"Do you have wireless telegraphy?" Tirpitz couldn't help asking.

"Experimental, with a communication range of about fifty nautical miles," Chen Feng did not conceal, "It's Mr. Marconi's patent; we've made some improvements."

"God..." an engineer of the Austro‑Hungarian Empire murmured, "The new technology on this ship could fill twenty papers."

Captain Li Te stood before the command console, issuing a series of orders in Chinese. Though they did not understand, the three‑nation representatives could feel the ship's command efficiency from his concise, decisive tone.

"Boiler pressure up, steam turbine pre‑heat."

"Main Gun turret commence rotation test."

"Rangefinder ready."

"Target ship bearing confirmed — south‑southeast by south, Distance 15,000 yards."

Chen Feng walked to the observation seat, picked up a microphone—the ship's internal broadcast system, another piece of equipment absent from warships of this era.

"Ladies and gentlemen, today's firing target is a decommissioned cargo ship we have modified. It has been towed to the designated position, the surrounding waters cleared. We will conduct three simultaneous salvos, using high‑explosive Shells. The firing Distance will start at 15,000 yards and gradually close."

"15,000 yards?" General Lu Han exclaimed, "My Moreño‑class design's maximum range is only 12,000 yards, and at that distance the Hit Rate is virtually zero!"

"That is the advantage of unified fire control for all Main Guns," Chen Feng said calmly, "Please put on earplugs; the bombardment will be loud."

Everyone took the cork earplugs handed out by the sailors. The bridge atmosphere suddenly grew tense.

"Target locked," the fire control officer's voice came through the speaking tube.

"Main Gun loading complete," the turret reported.

"Wind force level three, wind direction southeast, correction value 0.7," the meteorological observer reported.

Captain Li Te inhaled deeply, raised his right hand, "All ships, enter combat status."

An alarm sounded—not a traditional hand‑bell, but a shrill buzz from an electric horn. The entire ship seemed to come alive, yet was unusually quiet, with only the low hum of the steam turbine and the hiss of the ventilation system.

"First salvo, simultaneous fire," Li Te's voice was as calm as if discussing dinner, "Five turrets, fire together."

He swung his raised hand down forcefully.

"Fire!"

The world stood still at that moment, then was torn apart.

Ten 305‑mm Main Guns roared almost simultaneously, their flames reaching twenty meters, thick smoke instantly enveloping half the hull. The massive shockwave shoved the ship's hull three meters to starboard, water pushed aside forming a ring of white ripples. Even with earplugs, the sound still felt like someone hammering iron onto each person's skull.

The bridge's observation windows let out a squeaking moan, yet remained unmoved.

The muzzle blast stirred up deck dust, but the sea wind quickly dispersed it. Ten Shells traced ten faint trajectories in the air, soaring toward the distant horizon.

"Range!" Li Te's voice showed no fluctuation.

"Shell in flight... thirty‑eight seconds... thirty‑nine seconds..."

Everyone raised their telescopes, looking toward the sea in the southeast direction.

"…Hit!"

On the sea thirty meters above the surface at 15,000 yards, ten massive white water columns erupted suddenly. Each column rose over thirty meters, like a suddenly grown white forest. The cargo ship used as the target lay at the center of this "forest," struck directly by at least three shells.

First salvo, Hit Rate thirty percent.

"God..." Tirpitz's hand trembled, the telescope's tube bumped his eye socket, yet he felt nothing, "15,000 yards... thirty percent Hit Rate... this is impossible..."