Chapter Sixty-Nine: Snow on the Fjord

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The Arctic Ocean, Barents Sea.

Above the water, a wind so cold it could freeze steel howled through the air, beneath a sky of leaden gray, lifeless and silent before the coming of the endless night.

Below the waves, in the frigid abyss four hundred meters deep, a colossal shape moved—its hull clad in black sound-dampening tiles, resembling an ancient leviathan from prehistoric times. It glided forward in a manner that defied every law of physics, hovering in a state of absolute silent running.

This was the Longyuan, a 095-class attack nuclear submarine.

Blade of the nation, ghost of the deep.

At the front of the submarine, inside the torpedo bay, the atmosphere was as tense and heavy as iron.

Lin Feng, Xiao Ran, and two top operatives—handpicked from the elite Dragon Flame Special Operations Brigade—were making their final equipment checks before the mission commenced.

They were all clad in black combat suits forged from the latest "Dragon Scale" material, combining thermal regulation, pressure resistance, and both optical and infrared stealth. Their faces were streaked with cold camouflage paint.

Codenamed "Black Tortoise," the heavy assault specialist was built like a mountain, his gaze as deep and steady as an abyss.

Codenamed "Vermilion Bird," the information and demolitions expert moved with the lithe agility of a panther, eyes sharp as an eagle's.

This was the "Sword Edge" Special Operations Unit, dispatched on a mission of the highest priority: overseas assassination and infiltration.

"...Arrived at the designated separation coordinates."

The captain’s calm, emotionless voice came over the broadcast, echoing softly through the compartment.

"Initiating Poseidon separation procedure. Countdown..."

"...Ten, nine, eight..."

Xiao Ran, ground commander for this operation, exchanged a glance with Lin Feng, then made a confirming gesture to the other two members.

"...Three, two, one!"

"—Separate!"

As the countdown ended, the outer hatch of Torpedo Tube One slowly and silently swung open, yielding to the crushing pressure of the deep.

A "Poseidon" class special operations submersible—less than ten meters long, jet black, shaped like a small killer whale—shot forth like a bullet, or an arrow loosed from a bow, gliding noiselessly into the bone-chilling, light-consuming abyss.

...

One hour later.

Northern Norway, deep within a fjord so remote it was absent from any public map.

Beneath a mountain of black basalt, cloaked in millennia-old ice and snow, its jagged edge thrust skyward like the blade of some primeval beast.

With a splash, the Poseidon submersible surfaced, parting the thin crust of ice atop the sea. The black composite hatch slid open with a soft hydraulic hiss.

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The Sword Edge unit set foot on a frozen coastline forgotten by the world.

The moment their boots touched land, a gust of polar wind laced with ice crystals and snowflakes hit them from every direction, as though a billion razor-edged knives were slicing through the air.

The temperature here was at least thirty degrees below zero.

"Black Tortoise!" Xiao Ran wasted no words and issued the command instantly.

"Copy!" The heavy assault specialist, Black Tortoise, responded without hesitation. He reached into his massive tactical pack and withdrew a menacing high-pressure gas nail gun.

He glanced up, estimating the sheer, nearly vertical ice wall, dozens of meters high, then leveled the tool at a sturdy crack in the rock above.

Bang!

A dull thud. A specially forged alloy piton, trailed by a Kevlar line, shot upward in a blur, embedding itself deep into the ice wall.

"I’ll go first—setting up the safe passage!"

Securing the line around his waist, Black Tortoise donned his ice axes. Without a running start, he scaled the glassy, precipitous wall with the speed and agility of a movie superhero, carving a lifeline up to the clifftop for the others to follow.

...

Ten minutes later, at the summit.

As the last member, Lin Feng, hauled himself up onto the snow-covered platform with Black Tortoise’s help, the hidden "Aurora Ocean Research Institute" came into view across the icy plain—a futuristic white fortress built at the edge of the world.

But at that moment—

Vermilion Bird, the information specialist, saw her tactical goggles—equipped with full-spectrum scanning—suddenly flooded with a dense web of red warning signals.

"Commander! We have a problem!" she hissed, crouching low, her tone grave.

"It’s the Ghost Organization’s top-tier ‘Hive’ drone defense grid! Within a three-kilometer radius, at least thirty-six ‘Sentinel’ patrol drones are conducting seamless, AI-driven grid patrols. They’re equipped with the latest thermal imaging and Doppler motion radar."

She zoomed in on the scan.

"Any target with body heat and a movement speed above 0.1 meters per second will be locked by the AI system within half a second of detection—and destroyed. We… we can’t get through!"

A dead end. A wall of death forged by high technology.

Yet Lin Feng showed neither surprise nor anxiety. Calmly, he drew from his pack a triple-reinforced military tablet—and something else: a lifelike, jet-black specimen of a raven.

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He looked out at the distant sky, where the "Sentinel" drones circled like vultures, and a lazy, utterly confident smile curved his lips.

"I'll give it a try."

He tossed the "raven" lightly into the swirling snow.

A wonder unfolded—after leaving his hand, the raven’s wings flared, two red pinpricks of light gleaming in its black eyes, and it soared with silent, avian grace into the gray sky.

This was a Minghong bionic infiltration drone, a cutting-edge device developed by the Ghostworks Lab of National Security Bureau Thirteen, equipped with the latest "quantum intrusion" and "signal spoofing" modules.

...

Crouched in the snow, Lin Feng’s long fingers danced across the rugged, cold-resistant tablet in a blur.

High above, Minghong drifted like a true phantom, approaching the drone-formed Hive defense grid.

On the tablet display, the Hive’s formidable red data firewall clashed in a silent, lightning-fast duel with the razor-thin golden code of the Minghong's intrusion program.

Seconds later, the red "sea" of the Hive’s firewall began to turn gold, as if infected by a virus, spreading from the point of contact until it was entirely subsumed.

A bead of sweat broke on Lin Feng’s brow, testament to his intense focus. He lifted his head and flashed a signature, infuriatingly smug smile at the awestruck Xiao Ran and the other two operatives.

"Done."

"I’ve hacked their central AI control system and, with top-level access, issued a false directive: a simulated 300-second system reboot due to a solar storm. All Sentinels will enter silent standby mode in ten seconds."

He glanced at his wrist timer, eyes sharpening to a razor’s edge.

"Which means..."

"...We have exactly 300 seconds to cross this mine-laden, turret-guarded killing field—"

"—and dance a ballet for Death."

Xiao Ran did not hesitate. She drew her silenced QSW06 pistol, signaled to Black Tortoise and Vermilion Bird.

"—Move!"