Chapter 119: The Miraculous Flight (Second Update)

"Don't be such a stiff! Come on, Miss Black Widow, sing along—Baby, baby, baby, oh! Baby, baby, baby, oh!"

Natalia felt helpless. She couldn't fathom why her once incredibly reliable and formidable Major brother would suddenly lose all sense of decorum the moment he flew outside the Soviet air defense zone.

One had to understand that whether within the Soviet military or the intelligence department, the atmosphere was always remarkably somber. Yet, this was not a formal combat mission; naturally, there were no political commissars present to boost morale or keep everyone in check.

Me Jiecao—a man who actually sported stars on his epaulets—was already an officer of significant standing. The highest rank among the commandos was merely a second lieutenant, not even equal to Natasha, who had been promoted to lieutenant upon receiving the moniker "Black Widow."

Come to think of it, the song was actually quite catchy, and before she knew it, she found herself humming along.

More than half a century later, by which time she had officially adopted the name Natasha, she finally learned that the original lyrics were actually "Baby! Baby! Oh—"

Long after that, she realized that the bastard Me Mumu hadn't actually gotten the lyrics wrong after all.

Me Mumu had a vast repertoire. A moment later, he switched tunes: "I feed you some shit, for you, Jingzi, for you I court certain death..."

Regardless, Me Jiecao had turned the plane's entire internal communication channel into a karaoke session, and the god-damned man was a total microphone hog!

The assault troops, packed into the rear cabin—a space modified from the bomb bay—stared at each other in bewilderment. After finally waiting for Me Liangxin to finish his song, a recruit couldn't help but ask, "Sir, may I ask a question?"

"Ask away!" Me Suowei replied.

"Is it really okay for us to fly like this?"

"It's fine, it's fine! The air defense capabilities of those little runts are pathetic. The real dangers are the weather and the terrain," Me Mumu said with unshakeable optimism.

"What happens if we hit a mountain?" the recruit asked timidly.

Me Xinmeifei shrugged. "We'll probably be smashed to pieces, and our remains will be evenly scattered across a radius of nearly a thousand square meters by the explosion."

"..." The recruit shut his mouth.

"Relax! This is the first mission I'm leading my disciples on; there's no way I'd be so careless." Me Jiecao's loud laughter finally made the recruit feel a bit better.

Me Mumu pursed his lips and said nothing more. By the mid-point of World War II, elite forces of every nation had suffered heavy losses, to the point where even such special operations had to be padded with raw recruits. This would have been unimaginable before the war.

The commandos' second lieutenant walked over and patted the recruit on the head. "Idiot! Have you forgotten our mission and our duty? From the day we picked up our rifles, we were prepared to die for our country. Besides, if the commander isn't afraid, what are we afraid of!? That’s the man who took a stroll through Berlin and came back!"

At this point in time, Berlin remained synonymous with a den of demons in the hearts of Red Army soldiers. To walk through it and return alive was already a miracle, let alone rescuing so many generals and compatriots along the way.

It hadn't been announced publicly, but internally, it was no secret.

The grunts didn't understand aviation; they had no idea of the risks and difficulties they were currently facing.

The navigator was incredibly anxious. This was a super-low-altitude flight, under 100 meters, in the midst of a rainstorm. Below one hundred meters, the altimeter was essentially just a single graduation mark. Any experienced pilot knew that below a hundred meters, you were flying solely by visual estimation and gut feeling.

The problem was that in the pitch-black night of a howling storm, the pilots were effectively blinded. The windshield was covered in rain, rendering everything invisible. It felt as if Me Mumu was just flying blindly.

Yet, the coordinates were perfect.

That was the truly miraculous part.

Lights seemed to appear ahead on the right; that must have been a coastal city. The navigator could clearly feel the plane climbing gently, following an almost imperceptible upward slope of the mountain range that was invisible to the naked eye.

The navigator's mouth hung open in astonishment, completely unable to close. Only he knew that Me Mumu was pulling off a maneuver that even ace pilots would only dare attempt in broad daylight—maintaining a super-low-altitude flight while following the rising terrain!

As for being detected by radar and intercepted by swarms of fighter jets—that simply wasn't going to happen.

The Soviets' focus wasn't on the Far East, and most of their intelligence was vague. The Yankee allies across the Pacific simply hoped to use Soviet lives to drag down the aggressive Wehrmacht. Providing planes and artillery was one thing, but sharing intelligence was out of the question.

Only this "transmigrator," armed with a WWII encyclopedia he had obtained through an exchange, knew the truth:

Starting in 1941, Japan’s production capacity lagged far behind its consumption, so the Imperial Japanese Army decided to hide most of its aircraft, saving them for a decisive battle when the Americans finally landed.

The army and navy planes tasked with air defense numbered a mere 970, with only 2,590 anti-aircraft guns. For a country covering over 370,000 square kilometers like Japan, this wasn't even a matter of "too many monks and too little gruel"—it meant most regions were entirely undefended.

The most bizarre part was that the Japanese Navy refused to deploy its anti-aircraft guns to protect cities and industrial bases, opting instead to keep them all for the protection of naval ports, naval bases, and command headquarters.

And the luckiest break of all: just this evening, Me Mumu discovered that the Americans had also joined the fray. The eastern sky was filled with massive amounts of jamming signals; those had to be the Americans' specialized electronic warfare B-29 bombers.

These electronic warfare planes were effectively suppressing Japanese air defense radar and fire-control systems, reducing the effectiveness of their gun-laying radar by 90%. The effective detection and tracking range of their anti-aircraft radar had dropped from an average of 30-40 kilometers to a mere 2-5 kilometers.

Pfft! Talk about someone handing you a pillow just as you're nodding off to sleep.

The Soviets' plane was American-made; even if the American radar could detect this mysterious bomber flying at super-low altitude, they would simply identify it as a friendly vessel based on its signal.

This B-24 bomber was naturally a low-spec, stripped-down version, and it was currently in radio silence. Other than Me himself, no one on board had any idea what was happening outside.

Me possessed both radio signal sensing embedded in his "Balance System" and a 2016-era topographical map of Japan he had uploaded from another Earth.

With things like *Goat Simulator*, *Flight Simulator*, and *Euro Truck Simulator*—in a world where every kind of simulation game existed, obtaining this was trivial.

Cross-referencing the 3D map in his mind with the electromagnetic signals around him, Me Mumu pulled off an impossible feat of aviation in this era.

This modified B-24 wasn't fully loaded with bombs; it carried only a small payload to ensure its standard range. Departing from Vladivostok, a round trip of over 5,000 kilometers was well within the B-24’s capabilities—provided they could land successfully.

The Soviets hadn't quite realized it yet when they felt the plane begin to decelerate and lower its landing gear.

"Yo! Brothers! Get ready to land!"

With a roar, the plane navigated the pitch-black storm and, after an exaggerated slide, managed to touch down on a long, narrow terraced field on the mountainside...