Chapter 68 Squadron of Fighter Jets

The Ring Expressway had become nothing short of a battlefield at this moment, and the conflict was escalating rapidly.

Drones had already been deployed by the Da family. With current drone technology, one could easily purchase a quadcopter capable of flying dozens of kilometers online. With some modifications—adding mounting brackets and ignition systems—it could carry two to four small missiles. On the surface, drones had yet to see widespread use in open combat, but their convenience had already made them a staple in clandestine operations.

Both those who wanted to capture Zhu Lan alive and the Chinese military, intent on crushing this group, had sent significant reinforcements here. Compared to the value of the genetic optimization serum, Zhu Lan himself was considered even more crucial.

“Damn it! Bastard!”

“Boss, urgent call!”

“What is it? I’m in the middle of a battle!”

“Drucker, pull back!”

“What? You want me to retreat? After losing so many men? I’m already at the final defensive line!”

“It’s pointless. We were all deceived.”

“What?”

“I said we were all deceived!”

“Damn it, what do you mean?”

“Zhu Lan isn’t there anymore. What you’re attacking is a decoy. The real target has already reached Fengluan!”

“Bastard!” Drucker hurled his satellite phone to the ground, but it survived the impact—satellite phones were built to last.

“Boss, what happened?”

Boom! Boom!

Two rockets exploded nearby, sending shards of stone flying everywhere.

“Pah!” Drucker spat dirt from his mouth. “Tell the brothers to fall back!”

“Retreat? Boss, are you serious?”

Drucker grabbed the man by the collar. “We’ve all been tricked. It’s a fake target down there!”

“What?”

Inside the Red Flag sedan, Zhu Lan gazed ahead, though nothing was visible on the road before them.

“Boss, they’ve figured it out.”

Zhu Lan sneered. “Too late. Has the fleet arrived?”

“They’re in position. Ready to attack!”

“Begin.”

Above the Ring Expressway, thirty aircraft streaked across the sky, their deafening roar audible from afar. On closer inspection, something seemed off—they were rather small.

Despite the din of gunfire and explosions, the combined noise of thirty engines could not be ignored.

Many looked up, stunned by what they saw—a formidable formation of thirty fighter planes. The spectacle was awe-inspiring, but something felt… odd. The strangeness lay in the size: each “fighter” was only as large as a typical sedan, just one-fifth the size of a real warplane.

“Everyone, get over here! The bombing’s about to start!” Conor relayed his boss’s orders, surprised, but quickly grasped the situation upon spotting the aerial formation. He shouted for everyone to take cover and notified the SWAT unit as well.

No one truly understood what kind of planes these were, but the thirty-odd aircraft overhead, with their golden dragon insignia, left a strong impression. When word came from Fantasy Technology to take cover because a bombardment was imminent, the SWAT team decided to trust them.

“What the hell are those? Models?”

They were, indeed, model planes—precisely, military-grade replicas modeled after the Panda-14 fighter. These were not the hobbyist’s playthings, but sophisticated, functional machines.

As astonished eyes watched, a mass of jets erupted from the models; missile after missile detached from their bellies.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The Ring Expressway was subjected to a carpet bombing. The missiles might have been small, but their destructive power was immense. Both mercenaries from Fantasy Technology and SWAT were stunned by the ferocity.

Each plane carried six missiles; with over thirty planes, more than two hundred missiles rained down, saturating the entire area. Though not as powerful as standard munitions, they far exceeded the devastation of grenades. The resulting shrapnel storms tore through anything in their path.

When the bombing ceased, the highway was riddled with craters. Only those shielded by vehicles—Fantasy Technology and SWAT—had survived, while all else had been annihilated. The aerial fleet vanished as swiftly as it had appeared.

Huang Sen, though experienced, was left speechless at the sight of missile-laden model planes deployed in combat.

“Captain, they’re all dead. We found four survivors, but they won’t last long—the explosions did too much damage.”

Huang Sen shook his head. “Widen the search.” With that, he made his way to Zhu Lan.

“Mr. Zhu!”

Zhu Lan glanced at him. “This area is under your responsibility now. I trust you’ll keep what happened confidential—you’re well aware of the non-disclosure agreement.”

Huang Sen nodded. “I understand.”

“Let’s go,” Zhu Lan called to his entourage, and they drove their bullet-riddled car back toward Fantasy Technology.

As soon as hostilities on the Ring Expressway concluded, the report landed on Luo Guoqiang’s desk. He read it and shook his head in resignation.

“What is this kid trying to do?”

“What’s the matter?”

“Take a look.” Luo Guoqiang, torn between anger and helplessness, tossed the report to the others.

After reading it, everyone was stunned.

“Model fighter planes? Capable of carrying missiles? From Fantasy Technology? Impossible!”

Building a scaled-down fighter—one smaller than a typical warplane—was not technically difficult. The technology existed since the 1980s. But due to cost, engine limitations, and their lack of practical use (being remote controlled only), such projects were never pursued.

When model aircraft were first invented, someone had already suggested their potential as unmanned aerial vehicles—the earliest UAV concept. But no nation had been willing to waste money on such an idea.

“Just what is Zhu Lan up to? Missiles? He actually manufactured missiles?”

“This is a serious problem!”

“It certainly is.” Luo Guoqiang nodded in agreement; this was indeed a grave issue.

“Does Fantasy Technology even have such facilities?”

Luo Guoqiang considered it. “Yes, they do. These model fighters are based on the Panda-14, about the size of a sedan. Fantasy Technology has several massive roads, each thousands of meters long, wide enough for six cars side by side. Not only can models take off and land there—even real fighter jets could.”

“How could he be so careless? Didn’t our people notice anything? Over thirty planes—no one noticed their manufacture?”

Luo Guoqiang shook his head helplessly. “After the previous incident with Fantasy Technology, the military was told to keep their distance. Oversight was reduced in many areas. Plus, due to the genetic optimization project, only a handful could access those restricted zones, all focused on gene research. To avoid provoking Zhu Lan, I didn’t order inspections. In fact, we had no grounds to do so.”

“So our people there are just acting as security guards?”

Luo Guoqiang nodded again. “Exactly. Just security. And with ambiguous instructions from above, the military couldn’t get more involved.”

The others could only sigh in resignation. Previously, the military had been put in a very awkward position, and now the consequences were manifest.

Fantasy Technology had built planes—even if only models, even if based on a decades-old design—but that wasn’t the main issue. The key problem was that these fighters carried missiles.

“It seems our friend here has many secrets.”

Luo Guoqiang and his colleagues fell silent. Even this single incident revealed much.

Building a vintage fighter was not difficult. Engines could be bought online, airframes custom-ordered, remote control systems installed, and a plane assembled. Of course, such a plane's lifespan and durability would be questionable, perhaps only one percent as sturdy as the real thing.

Equipping them with missiles was not too hard, either. The real obstacle was simply that no one dared take that first step.

Missiles, after all, were a far graver concern than guns. A gun might kill a few, but one missile could kill thousands.

“First it was biotechnology, then quantum engineering, now robotics and thermal conversion. And now model fighter jets armed with missiles—Zhu Lan has become a major problem.”

Only after tallying it all up did they realize just how many enigmas surrounded Zhu Lan. Each of these technologies spanned entirely different fields, none of which Zhu Lan was formally an expert in.

“Old Xu, are you saying what we’ve always feared?”

General Xu, the one addressed, nodded. “Yes. We’ve had intelligence for some time that Fantasy Technology harbored many outsiders and mysterious personnel. Their origins are unclear, but due to previous orders from above, the investigation was halted. Now, it’s clear that inquiry must resume—thoroughly.”

“Let’s wait—I’ll go see Zhu Lan first. I don’t want something to happen to such a talented person.” Luo Guoqiang knew full well the consequences of a thorough investigation. If nothing was found, fine—but if they uncovered something, the fallout could be irreversible, causing a rift with Zhu Lan that none of them wanted.

“It’s just as well. Zhu Lan’s actions so far show no intent to harm the nation. Let’s hope our concerns are unfounded.”

Luo Guoqiang nodded gravely, though he knew he was only trying to reassure himself.

Zhu Lan had already surrendered the gene enhancement formula, giving China a thirty-year lead in genetics. Now, the quantum technology he proposed was also highly valued, as was his robotics—potentially vital military technology for future crises. China had gained all this without paying much in return. None of them wanted any irreparable rift with Zhu Lan; that was the last outcome the authorities—and Luo Guoqiang himself—wanted to see.

(To be continued.)