Hood Level

The night was as dark as ink. The hustle and bustle of Dubai Port gradually subsided after midnight, with only the steam turbines of the power plant still roaring tirelessly, providing an inextinguishable light to this emerging land. In the study on the top floor of the administration building, Chen Feng sat alone at his desk. The screen of his 21st-century laptop was the only source of light in the room, dimly illuminating his young face, which was already etched with deep thought.

The computer fan hummed softly, a sound that stood out sharply in this era devoid of electronic noise. Chen Feng's fingers slid across the touchpad, opening the locally stored encyclopedia database—this database, without an internet connection, was both his greatest asset and his heaviest burden.

"The Elizabeth-class... has well-balanced firepower, but its speed is still insufficient."

"The Nagato-class... has a 410mm main gun with outstanding firepower, but it has some design flaws, and for us now, the main gun is too difficult to manufacture."

"Hood-class..."

His gaze lingered on the picture of what was described as "the most elegant warship of the British Royal Navy." Its slender hull, distinctive gunwales, and iconic tall triangular mast. Chen Feng clicked on the detailed specifications and read them word by word:

"Displacement: 41200 tons standard, 46700 tons full load..."

"Main armament: Four twin-mounted 381mm (15-inch) 42-caliber Mark I main guns..."

"Secondary guns: 12 x 140mm (5.5-inch) BL Mark I..."

"Anti-air defense firepower: ..."

"Armor: Main armor belt, 305 mm thickest, angled at 12 degrees; deck armor..."

His gaze lingered on the "Armor" section for a long time. The Hood-class's armor protection was not considered outstanding in later assessments, especially its weak horizontal protection, which was one of the reasons it ultimately sank in the Denmark Strait. But—

"Speed: 31 knots... Maximum speed can reach 32 knots." Chen Feng read the number softly, a glint in his eyes.

31 knots. In 1905, when dreadnoughts averaged 21 knots and even the newest battleships were only around 25 knots, this was an almost dreamlike figure. High speed meant tactical initiative, the ability to engage or disengage, and the capacity for rapid deployment to key sea areas.

"Firepower, protection, speed—the impossible triangle." Chen Feng leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. "The Hood-class sacrificed some protection in exchange for extreme speed and powerful firepower. For us... that's exactly the most suitable."

He finally made his decision. What Lanfang needed now was not a decisive battle with the British Grand Fleet, nor a struggle for sea control. What they needed was a fleet presence, a deterrent force, and mobile strike platforms capable of rapidly projecting firepower in critical moments and quickly disengaging. The Hood-class perfectly met this requirement.

"Moreover, although the 381mm main guns are difficult to manufacture, with some artillery technology transferred from Austria-Hungary and our upgrading industrial capabilities, it's not insurmountable," Chen Feng calculated. "More importantly, its design concept—the battlecruiser—didn't even exist in 1905. The British's first battlecruiser, HMS Invincible, probably hasn't even had its keel laid yet. If we build it, it will be the world's first true battlecruiser."

He sat up straight and began operating the computer, retrieving detailed design drawings, structural diagrams, armor distribution diagrams, propulsion system diagrams, weapon configuration diagrams, and more for the Hood-class battlecruiser. The list of files stretched as far as the eye could see.

"Print it." Chen Feng sighed softly and connected to the modified printer that had also come from another time.

The printer emitted a dull hum as it started up the moment the print button was pressed, then began its frantic work. A cacophony of sounds—creaking, gurgling, hissing—mingled together. One sheet after another, filled with intricate lines and densely packed data, was ejected, quickly piling up on the floor beside it.

Chen Feng didn't leave. He moved a chair and sat next to the printer, watching the wisdom from another era reappear in this time and space in such an almost primitive way. The drawings grew thicker and thicker, from a few centimeters to more than ten centimeters, and then to half a meter high... The smell of ink in the room grew stronger and stronger.

The printer ran for a full four hours. It "protested" several times due to overheating, forcing Chen Feng to stop and let it cool down. When the last drawing—a detailed structural drawing of the ship's hull down to the position of every single rivet—slowly emerged, the sky outside the window was already turning a pale white.

On the floor, the blueprints were piled up like a small mountain, almost taking up half the room. Chen Feng stood up, stretched his stiff neck, and looked at the blueprints, a complex emotion welling up inside him. This was forcing growth, mortgaging his future. But in this dog-eat-dog world, he had no choice.

"Someone come here!" he called out towards the door.

The guards outside immediately pushed the door open and entered: "Commander!"

"Go and invite Uncle Wang. Also, notify the shipyard's chief engineer Liu Yongfu, deputy chief engineer Chen Qiming, power group leader Zhao Dezhu, and weapons group leader Zhou Tieshan... Here's the list. Have them assemble in conference room number one immediately." Chen Feng handed over a piece of paper. "Remember, keep it a secret. Don't alert anyone."

"yes!"

Half an hour later, in conference room number one.

This was a windowless underground conference room with specially treated walls that provided excellent soundproofing. The long conference table was already full. Besides Wang Bo and several core members of the shipyard, there were two new faces—engineers "borrowed" from German naval cadets: Hans Müller and Friedrich Schneider. They had signed strict confidentiality agreements, and their families had received special arrangements and preferential treatment.

Everyone stared at Chen Feng, who sat in the main seat, and at the wall behind him covered by a canvas. The atmosphere was heavy yet full of anticipation.

"Everyone, the reason I called you all here so early is because we're about to launch a project codenamed 'Cheetah'," Chen Feng said, getting straight to the point. His voice was exceptionally clear in the enclosed conference room. "Before we begin, please confirm once again that you and your immediate family members have signed the highest level of confidentiality agreement. If you have any concerns, you may leave now. I guarantee there will be no repercussions."

No one moved. All eyes were fixed on him with unwavering focus.

"Very good." Chen Feng nodded, signaling the guards to lock the door from the outside. He stood up, walked to the wall, and grabbed a corner of the canvas.

"Look, this is the 'Cheetah'."

The canvas was suddenly pulled open.

Nailed to the wall was a general layout drawing magnified several times—a slender and graceful ship shape, four twin-mounted main gun turrets arranged in a superimposed configuration, a tall bridge, three funnels... Although it was just a line drawing, its timeless design aesthetics instantly shocked everyone present.