Chapter 49: Restoration

At 10 a. m., the Restoration set sail from the harbor into open seas.

Du Buwa and the experts stood on the viewing platform behind the bridge, the sea wind snapping their collars. Li Te issued orders from the bridge, his voice clear through the megaphone.

"All ships enter demonstration mode. Engine room, output power at eighty percent."

"Engine room acknowledges, output power at eighty percent."

The hull trembled slightly, the smokestack's coal smoke suddenly thickened. The massive ship accelerated, the bow splitting the waves higher and higher, a white wake trailing a long line across the sea.

"Speed 25 knots… 27 knots… 29 knots… 30 knots!"

The speedometer needle steadied at the 30‑knot mark, the massive ship racing across the sea at this unbelievable pace. The Frenchman held the rail, feeling the throbbing power beneath his feet and the barely perceptible vibration.

"Now demonstrating turning."

As Li Te's voice faded, the helmsman slammed the wheel. The massive hull tilted and turned, carving a curve less than five hundred meters in diameter on the sea. For a ship over thirty thousand tons, that turning radius was absurdly small.

"How is that possible…" Mo Luo clutched the rail, his face paling, "At this tonnage, this speed, this turning radius… fluid dynamics just doesn't add up!"

"We've redesigned the bow hull form and the rudders," Li Te said, appearing on the platform at some point, "Additionally, the four steam turbines can be controlled separately, working with the steering gear to achieve vector thrust. That's crucial in complex sea states and tactical maneuvers."

Next comes the firepower demonstration.

"Target ship 15,000 meters ahead, simulate enemy vessel."

Four Main Gun turrets began to rotate, eight massive barrels slowly lifted, aiming at the distant horizon. The turrets turned smoothly and silently, lacking the harsh gear clatter of European battleships.

"Fire!"

No real shells, yet the muzzle flash and boom still shocked. The recoil of eight giant guns firing simultaneously nudged the thirty‑thousand‑ton hull slightly sideways, the muzzle blast stirring a ring of rippling waves across the sea.

"Salvo interval?" Du Buwa asked the most critical question.

"Theoretically the fastest is one and a half minutes per salvo round," Li Te replied, "In combat, accounting for target correction and barrel cooling, it's two minutes per round. But our fire‑control system allows continuous computation, so we can calculate the second round's parameters while the first round's shells are still airborne."

Silence.

Prolonged silence.

Only the sea wind and the engine's low hum.

Du Buwa walked to the edge of the platform, hands on the rail, gazing at the horizon where sea meets sky. His silhouette stood especially upright in the sun, yet revealed a complex emotion—astonishment, envy, and a trace of indefinable sorrow.

France needs such a battleship.

France must possess such a battleship.

"Captain Li Te," he turned, his voice calm yet firm, "return to port. I need to meet Mr. Chen immediately."

London Naval Ministry Building.

Fei She Er stood before a massive nautical chart, a freshly received telegram in hand. His complexion was as gloomy as the sky before a storm.

"They really signed."

He slammed the telegram onto the table. The paper unfolded, revealing its brief but lethal content: "Paris confirms, a purchase agreement with Lanfang for five Gu Ba‑class battleships. The lead ship, France, will be delivered within twelve months."

In the conference room, the core staff of the Naval Ministry sat, each bearing a grave expression.

"The French have gone mad," shipbuilding director Sir Fei Li Pu·Wa Ci murmured, "Do they know what this means? It's a public challenge to the Empire!"

"They know," Fei She Er's voice was cold, "that's why they act so. Because we refused to sell them ships, because Deguo has six Dauntless warships, because they fear being left behind by the times."

He walked to the window, watching the traffic on Bai Hall Street outside.

"The situation is clear now. Deguo arms that Chinese faction, the French join, they aim to create a counterweight to us in the Indian Ocean. And Chen Feng…" Fei She Er turned, a dangerous glint in his eye, "He's playing a risky game. He thinks he can manipulate both great European powers and profit from it."

"Where is our fleet?" someone asked.

"'Dauntless' leading the detachment has already passed the Suez Canal, now sailing in the Red Sea," Fei She Er returned to the chart, his finger on the northern Red Sea, "In three days it will enter Aden Bay, and in five days reach the offshore of the Persian Gulf."

He drew a circle on the Persian Gulf position.

"I will make Chen Feng understand one thing: in this world, some games aren't for everyone. Some tables demand a price the moment you sit."

"If… if he truly has a warship more advanced than 'Dauntless'?" Wa Ci asked cautiously, "The French are willing to spend 3.8 million pounds per ship; they aren't buying ordinary vessels."

Fei She Er fell silent.

He recalled the blurry photo in the intelligence report, the massive shadow in the dry dock, and the provocative telegram the French sent in plain text.

"Then we must eliminate it before it becomes combat‑ready," his voice low as if muttering to himself, "As Napoleon said, the best defense is offense."

Berlin, Wuyou Palace.

Emperor Wei Lian Er Shi was in high spirits. He sat in his study, two telegrams in hand—one from a London spy reporting Yingguo fleet movements; another from a German engineering team in the Persian Gulf describing the Restoration's demonstration.

"Alfred, did you see?" the Emperor handed the telegram to Tirpitz, excitement uncontainable on his face, "That Chinese fellow actually built it! 38,000 tons, 31 knots, a 381‑mm Main Gun! The Yingguo are now like ants on a hot pan!"

Tirpitz skimmed the telegram quickly, his brow slightly furrowing.

"Your Majesty, this is both an opportunity and a risk."

"Risk? What risk?"

"Chen Feng's displayed power is too great," Tirpitz set the telegram down, his voice cautious, "So great it may exceed our control. We originally hoped he would be a tool to check Yingguo, but if he grows too fast…"

"Then let him become Germany's sword!" Emperor Wei Lian Er Shi rose, walked to the world map, "Imagine, Alfred. If we have ten Westphalia‑class ships in the North Sea, and an ally in the Indian Ocean possessing a ship like the Restoration… the Yingguo would be unable to guard both the front and the rear!"

His finger swept across the map, from the North Sea to the Indian Ocean.

"Then the Empire's fleet will truly go global. Africa, Yazhou, the Pacific… 'Territories under the Sun' will no longer be just a slogan!"

Tirpitz watched the Emperor's excited silhouette, hesitant to speak.

He recalled his meeting with Chen Feng, the young man's calm yet unfathomable gaze. It was not a submissive look, but a player's gaze.

"Your Majesty, I recommend dispatching an additional technical delegation immediately, while proposing a new cooperation plan," Tirpitz finally said, "We must solidify our position before the French fully win his trust. Ideally we obtain Restoration‑class technology, even if only partially."

"Good!" Emperor Wei Lian Er Shi turned, "You arrange it. Tell Chen Feng the German Empire is willing to exchange the most advanced technology and the best price for deeper cooperation. He may set conditions; as long as they're reasonable, I agree."

Tirpitz saluted, "Yes, Your Majesty."

As he left the study, the Admiral's brow remained furrowed. He sensed the game was becoming ever more complex and dangerous.

And that young man far out in the Persian Gulf may be harder to handle than anyone imagined.