Chapter 337

Chapter 337: The Silence of the Vietnamese

"Don’t worry, everyone. The salvage operation has already begun, and we expect to recover it by the day after tomorrow. Of course, it will take at least another day or two to gather data and create training materials. By next Monday, Instructor Lin will be able to explain this super maneuvering tactic to you," Colonel Wu reassured everyone. In his view, this maneuvering tactic, which did not involve firing but led to a crash, definitely belonged to the realm of super maneuverability, perhaps unique to the J-15 "Dark Sabre."

After all, once this maneuver, based on the "Dark Sabre," was developed, the Shenyang Aircraft Manufacturing Plant would likely see huge profits, with a series of modified versions hitting the market. The "Dark Sabre" would no longer just be a dedicated carrier-based aircraft model.

Lin Mo was unaware of Colonel Wu’s thoughts; otherwise, he would have protested about putting pressure on Shenyang. Creating exclusive dogfighting tactics for fighter jets was the job of design experts.

"Great!" The pilots cheered. Although it was only a few days’ delay, they were eager because Instructor Lin was known for his willingness to share knowledge. He was sure to introduce innovative and unseen maneuvering tactics, benefiting the trainees in Training Group 15 first, with others soon following.

After lunch, Lin Mo went to the medical group as ordered by Colonel Wu Nanjie for a check-up. The report showed everything was normal, which relieved both Colonel Wu and several duty Captains.

The Shilang aircraft carrier training group had submitted a report to the South China Sea Fleet regarding their confrontation with the Vietnamese Air Force. This report allowed the Ministry of Defense and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to seize the opportunity to retaliate against the Vietnamese, who were attempting to play the blame game.

Since the Shilang training group entered the South China Sea, the military and government had taken a tougher stance against countries along the coast. While they claimed it was just a training ship, they were heavily armed and trained just like a combat team. This display of full readiness sent shockwaves through the South Asian nations.

This incident not only slapped the Vietnamese in the face but also kicked them where it hurt. Two Su-27s had been brought down without a single shot fired from a J-15. The Vietnamese claimed otherwise, asserting on camera that China had opened fire; however, the recorded videos proved their assertions to be a complete lie, utterly without merit.

Moreover, an air defense position set up by a Vietnamese battalion on Nanning Island had no effect on the Chinese carrier-based aircraft, allowing them to land on the island. They took numerous pictures as mementos, exhibiting the prowess of the Chinese pilots—hovering like a dragon in the air, charging like a tiger on the ground.

The faces of several masked pilots in the background on Nanning Island highlighted the strained expressions of the Vietnamese diplomats, who certainly looked like they’d eaten something unpleasant.

The Vietnamese had been utterly unable to stop the armed landing, as fourteen twin-mounted anti-aircraft machine guns, anti-aircraft cannons, and SAM-7 shoulder-fired anti-aircraft missiles proved useless, instead damaging the island’s trees and dormitories.

Even after the harsh rebuttal and counterattack from the Chinese side, the Vietnamese continued to propagate their disinformation to citizens, including live broadcasts from Nanning Island.

However, when their cameras panned to a mosaic-tiled "Vietnam" flag on top of a building on the island, they faced embarrassment. The flag was meant to be a simple design with a red background and a large yellow star in the center, yet it had inexplicably morphed into a red field with a big five-pointed star on the left and four smaller stars in a circle on the right—a Chinese flag. What’s worse was that this blunder was broadcast live.

The Vietnamese were left speechless, as if someone had strangled them. They had clearly shot themselves in the foot, turning what was supposed to symbolize Vietnamese sovereignty into a humiliating display. Coupled with China’s protests, the Vietnamese ambitions became glaringly evident.

In their anger, the Vietnamese quickly switched the camera angle, with the host cursing some country’s malicious intent. They were internally anxious, fearful of that nation’s unseen hand, praying that it wouldn’t bring trouble to them.

Unbeknownst to them, viewers worldwide were bursting with laughter at their expense—it was beyond embarrassing.

A small segment of a Vietnamese newspaper reported that several offices and conference rooms of Vietnam’s Ministry of Defense and Air Force Command were undergoing renovations simultaneously due to the "unexpected incident."

The person personally responsible for this "unexpected incident" didn’t care about the uproar outside. They were preoccupied with the TS-091 "Longyan" aviation tactical helmet left behind by Lin Mo on the table. This dragon kin "computer expert" had devised a new retrofit plan and sent a list of required components to the Shenyang Aircraft Manufacturing Plant, with parts to be sent directly to Thailand’s Songkhla Sino-Thai joint base by aviation courier, ready for use as soon as the Shilang aircraft carrier training group arrived.

Seventy percent of the components were for personal use, while thirty percent were for the helmet modifications. This great dragon had started learning to use others for personal gain.

Lin Mo felt reassured as he meticulously tinkered with his "Longyan" aviation tactical helmet. This helmet had proven invaluable during his confrontations with Vietnamese fighter jets, aerial attacks on Nanning Island, and skirmishes with unmanned combat aircraft. It had shown tremendous potential, and the Gold Coin had also diligently assisted him in improving it.

Having accepted the technological civilization of this world, the gold giant dragon, who transitioned from a weapons master to an electronic engineering master, could directly test hundreds of functional modules and achieve comprehensive testing results in one day with the help of several "Ember" modules. This development speed exceeded laboratory efficiency by over a hundredfold, with costs that hardly compared.

The Gold Coin was grateful that Lin Mo had caught a shark, which netted him a piece of Split Meteoritic Iron that could spark a war in another world. It granted him a sense of a separate identity, yet it didn’t think of abandoning Lin Mo for a little fun.

After learning the lessons this world had to offer, the Gold Coin realized that while this world teemed with metallic resources, allowing him to experience undigested pleasures, it was equally fraught with dangers.

The humans in this world could extract metals and use them effectively, while also possessing skills to counteract metallurgy. They learned that thickness of skin and toughness didn’t guarantee invincibility. At least, the Gold Coin had encountered many weapons that could easily overpower him—even some that were not even weapons.

Though he remained by Lin Mo’s side, working for the former dragon knight, the Gold Coin, at least, had the avenue to understand the cutting-edge weapons of this world through Lin Mo’s military identity. Ordinary citizens would never have access to such high-level technology in their lifetimes.

Thus, the Gold Coin was even more proactive in supporting Lin Mo’s research in aircraft design. The higher Lin Mo climbed, the more he experienced, allowing him to see further, while the Gold Coin became more aware of the dangerous elements of the world to avoid potential fatal events.

Having the ability to act independently allowed the Gold Coin greater freedom while being available to protect Lin Mo. Certainly, Lin Mo would never again face the isolation of battling alone or the frustration of aircraft crashes during landings.

Yet the engineers at Shenyang remained oblivious, assuming that Instructor Lin had a special talent in this area. Naturally, anyone recognized and mentored by the retired experts at the 611 Institute must possess some skills.

The maintenance crew engineers for the carrier-based aircraft were elated. With Lin Mo’s involvement, their debugging processes advanced significantly, yielding new breakthroughs that thrilled them.

New technologies for carrier-based aircraft emerged continuously. Although they had no idea how Lin Mo came up with these innovative ideas, the engineers understood that as a pilot, Instructor Lin could easily find development directions.

As long as the direction was correct, material needs and technical issues could be resolved easily. Even if something couldn’t be immediately addressed, money could often fix any challenge. After all, significant funding was not a problem for key military technology development in China.

In this regard, once a user upgraded to a developer, their levels of research were no longer on the same starting line.

Within the Shilang aircraft carrier training group, both the aviation crew and maintenance team achieved work progress nearly faster than any other. Thanks to the drive from actual combat, war indeed acted as the best catalyst for technological advancement.

While China took a bold stance against the Vietnamese, Lin Mo’s combat reports and the corresponding videos regarding encounters with unmanned combat aircraft received an opposite reaction—everyone involved was made to sign non-disclosure agreements. The related reports and videos were forwarded to the South China Sea Fleet headquarters and were immediately sealed until they arrived in Thailand, where the originals would be specially delivered back to the country via military aircraft.

It was inevitable that a few pilots would be pulled in to serve as shields for Lin Mo, receiving glory and military honors while taking the blame for anything that might go wrong.

The Chinese strategy regarding true ace pilots was almost unimaginable, leaving even the Americans and Russians—who had long taken an interest in this question—still in the dark about how many ace pilots China actually possessed, and who they were.

Each ace pilot represented a strategic-level weapon akin to nuclear deterrence, holding immeasurable value. While fighter jets could roll off production lines, a highly trained elite pilot required extensive investment—almost exorbitant training costs. The rare aces emerged from brushes with death, and with each mission executed, their worth would exponentially increase.