Chapter 780: Full Load Displacement 70,000 Tons

In the Deguo delegation's residence, Tirpitz sat alone at a desk, with the Cyprus Convention spread before him. He stared at it for a long time, then picked up a pen and wrote a lengthy telegram to Berlin.

In the Yingguo delegation's villa, A Si Kui Si locked himself in his room and did not join any celebrations. He sat in the darkness, watching the pitch‑black night outside the window, motionless.

In the Lanfang delegation's villa, Chen Feng stood on the terrace, gazing at the distant sparkling sea.

Wang Wenwu walked to his side and asked softly, "President, aren't you pleased?"

Chen Feng shook his head. "Pleased. Of course, pleased."

He looked at the dark sea in the distance.

"But after being pleased, we must think about the next step."

Wang Wenwu asked, "What is the next step?"

Chen Feng gave no answer.

After a long while, he said softly:

"Wait."

June 22, 9 a. m., Cyprus Port.

The sun had risen from the horizon, its golden light spilling onto the harbor's water, creating a glitter of fragmented gold. The ships of the five delegations successively left the pier, preparing to return to their respective countries. The pier was filled with farewell crowds—local officials, foreign envoys, armed soldiers, and a large group of reporters carrying cameras and notebooks.

Reporters squeezed outside the safety line, craning their necks to look in. Some stood on tiptoes, some climbed the nearby low wall, some even scaled the harbor's crane, just to capture a good photo. Flashbulbs flickered one after another, and the shutter clicked click click, sounding like a noisy chorus of cicadas.

"Meilika delegation is out!" someone shouted.

Wilson walked at the front, smiling, waving to the reporters. Behind him followed Lansing and several aides. The group boarded the Ocean's gangway, stood on the deck, and waved to the shore again. Reporters frantically pressed the shutters, and the flashlights lit up the scene.

"Faguo delegation is out!"

Ke Lie Meng Suo walked quickly, his face showing a relieved ease. He nodded at the reporters but did not linger, heading straight onto the French ship.

"Deguo delegation is out!"

Tirpitz, dressed in civilian clothes, stood with a straight back. His face showed no expression, and he strode toward the Deguo ship. He ignored any shouts from reporters.

"Yingguo delegation is out!"

A Si Kui Si walked slowly, his complexion still a bit pale. He kept his head down, neither waving to the reporters nor looking at anyone. His Chief of Staff Ge Lei walked beside him, speaking softly. The two boarded the Yingguo ship and vanished into the cabin.

"Lanfang delegation is out!"

Chen Feng was the last to emerge. He wore a dark gray Zhongshan suit, his face showing no expression. Wang Wenwu followed behind, carrying a briefcase. The two walked slowly, unhurried, as if strolling by the sea.

The reporters grew even more frantic.

"President Chen! Look here!"

"President, what plans does Lanfang have after the war?"

"Could you say a few words?"

Chen Feng ignored him. He only gave a slight nod and continued toward Lanfang's ship.

That ship was a chartered liner, modest in size but very clean. Its white hull glowed softly in the sunlight, and several of Lanfang's golden dragon flags hung on the rail. The gangway had been lowered, and a few Lanfang soldiers stood on either side, standing at attention.

Chen Feng walked to the gangway, stopping his steps. He glanced back at the five flagpoles, at the five flags fluttering in the wind, and at the reporters still snapping wildly. Then he turned around, ready to board.

At that moment, Wang Wenwu leaned close to his ear and whispered a few words.

His voice was so soft it was almost inaudible. The dock was noisy with chatter, waves lapping the hull, and gulls crying in the sky; no one could hear what he said.

But someone heard.

Lansing stood not far away, watching the direction of the Lanfang delegation. He wasn't close, but he understood some Chinese. When those few words drifted into his ear, his heart skipped a beat.

"Full load displacement 70,000 tons."

Lansing froze there, motionless. He watched Wang Wenwu finish speaking, saw Chen Feng nod, then the two boarded the gangway and entered the cabin. Only when the ship slowly left the port did Lansing come to his senses.

He turned and rushed into the cabin, finding Wilson.

"President!"

Wilson was talking with a few aides; seeing Lansing's demeanor, he frowned. "What's the matter?"

Lansing lowered his voice and leaned to his ear. "I just heard Wang Wenwu say a sentence to Chen Feng."

Wilson looked at him. "What words?"

Lansing's voice trembled.

"Full load displacement 70,000 tons."

Wilson's complexion changed instantly.

After the Ocean left Cyprus Port, Wilson locked himself in his cabin.

He sat by the window, a glass of whiskey in front of him, already chilled. He didn't drink, just stared out at the endless sea. The water was blue, the sky was blue, sunlight glittered on the surface, creating patches of gold. Everything was so calm, so beautiful.

But inside, his heart was in turmoil.

Seventy thousand tons.

Those three words were like three stones pressing on his heart, suffocating him.

He recalled the Bismarck Class battleship's data—45,000 tons, eight 380 mm Main Guns, fire‑control radar that could hit a target twenty kilometers away with a single shot.

Those four warships had already pressed the Meilika navy to the brink. Whenever Congress debated the naval budget, someone would ask, "Can our ships match the Bismarck Class?" The navy department always answered, "They cannot."

Now, Lanfang wants to build a massive 70,000‑ton vessel?

He stood up, walked to the other end of the cabin, then returned. He paced back and forth like a beast trapped in a cage.

A 70,000‑ton warship—what could it carry? Ten 406 mm Main Guns? Armor so thick that current armor‑piercing shells couldn't penetrate? Speed still above thirty knots? Such a ship could replace three of Meilika's existing vessels.

A few minutes later, a middle‑aged man in a navy uniform walked into the cabin. He is a staff officer of the Meilika Navy named Harrison, holds the rank of Colonel, and is the military adviser for this delegation.

A few minutes later, a middle‑aged man in a navy uniform entered the cabin. He was a Meilika navy aide named Ha Li Sen, holding the rank of Colonel, and served as the delegation's military advisor.

"President, are you looking for me?"

Wilson nodded. "Sit."

Ha Li Sen sat on the sofa. Wilson walked to the opposite side and sat down as well.

【61】 "Colonel Ha Li Sen, I have a question for you."

Harrison straightened his back. "Please speak."

Wilson stared into his eyes. "If Lanfang builds a battleship with a full‑load displacement of 70,000 tons, how many years will our navy need to catch up?"

Harrison was stunned.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but nothing came out. After a long while, he finally found his voice again.

"Mr. President, you said… 70,000 tons?"

Wilson nodded.