Volume 1, Chapter 37: A Stroke of Luck

"Sword One" cut through the vast sky like a grey bolt of lightning.

In the control room, there was no sound other than the communications between Du Yuze and Wang Zhen. Everyone stood still, eyes fixed on the point of light on the main screen that was steadily growing larger. A single-engine approach with an asymmetric configuration was a monumental challenge for any pilot.

"Flaps down," Wang Zhen’s voice crackled over the comms.

"Speed 180, altitude 500."

"Landing gear down and locked."

Every step was as precise as a textbook entry. Yet, everyone knew that textbooks do not record the details of such extreme circumstances. Factory Director Zhang’s forehead was beaded with sweat; he gripped the railing so tightly that his knuckles were white, as if his physical effort could steady the aircraft.

"Preparing for touchdown," Wang Zhen reported.

On the screen, the runway was now clearly visible. The fuselage tilted slightly just before landing, but Wang Zhen corrected it with a precise kick to the rudder. The tires met the tarmac with a violent screech, sending up plumes of white smoke. The single operational thrust reverser roared, and the aircraft stubbornly held its line, sliding for a longer distance than usual before finally coming to a halt.

Only then did the air in the control room begin to circulate again.

"I brought her home," Wang Zhen’s voice came over the channel, laced with exhaustion but filled with an indescribable sense of pride.

"Well done," Du Yuze replied, then cut the connection. He slumped into his chair, feeling as though every ounce of strength had been drained from his body.

"A fluke!" Director Zhang jumped to his feet, pointing a finger at Du Yuze. His facial muscles were twisted with agitation. "You were gambling with a pilot’s life and a multi-billion dollar aircraft just for your so-called early warning! If there had been a crosswind, if—"

"There were no 'ifs'," Du Yuze interrupted, not even bothering to look back at him. "My system doesn’t tell fortunes; it calculates."

Gao Jianjun ignored their squabbling. He picked up the transmitter and calmly issued instructions: "Ground units, take note. The pilot is in good condition. Initiate Level 1 emergency protocols and conduct a full inspection of the aircraft. Pay special attention to the right engine."

After issuing the order, Gao walked over to Du Yuze and, without a word, patted him on the shoulder. The gesture was more powerful than any speech.

Director Zhang wanted to retort, but his radio buzzed. It was a call from the tarmac.

"Director Zhang! Preliminary inspection shows visible signs of overheating on the right engine’s turbine blades! They’ve even started to turn blue!"

Zhang froze, then grabbed at the news like a lifeline. He shouted at Du Yuze, "Did you hear that? It’s overheating! But your system reported structural damage! It was your overreaction, shutting down the engine prematurely, that caused this Class A incident! If you had operated normally, perhaps—"

His words were cut off once more, this time by the head of the data team, a young man in glasses. He walked quickly to Director Gao, his expression peculiar.

"Director Gao, Chief Engineer Du... the final data from the black box and the telemetry have come in." He handed over a printed report and pointed to his computer screen. "The T4 temperature sensor logs for the right engine... they are normal throughout. Peak temperature was 1650K; it didn't even touch the yellow line."

The entire control room fell silent.

Everyone was stunned.

The overheated blades were physical, undeniable evidence. Yet, the black box data—the official authority—claimed everything was fine. One of the two was lying.

"That’s impossible!" Director Zhang yelled. "How could the data be normal? Is the sensor broken?"

"If the sensor were damaged, the data would cut out or show obvious garbled code and spikes," the data team lead shook his head. "But the data curve we received is extremely smooth, extremely... perfect."

It was perfect to the point of being fake.

Du Yuze did not participate in the discussion. He sat at his console, his spine turning cold. He had conceived of a possibility a hundred times more terrifying than a sensor failure.

His system did not rely solely on the official T4 sensor. It integrated dozens of auxiliary parameters, including vibration, oil pressure, and acoustic signatures, to make a comprehensive judgment through a complex model. His system had foreseen an avalanche, while the official dashboard was painting a picture of peace.

This was not a malfunction. This was murder.

Someone had planted a cancer cell in the aircraft's nervous system. It had precisely tampered with the most critical temperature data, intending to keep the pilot and the control room oblivious to the impending disaster until the engine exploded into a fireball at ten thousand meters.

If Wang Zhen hadn't trusted his "hunch," if he hadn't bet his own career...

Du Yuze dared not think any further.

"Director Gao," he said, his voice raspy but remarkably clear, "I need to lock down 'Sword One' immediately. No one, especially maintenance personnel for the engine and avionics systems, is allowed near the aircraft until my people arrive."

Gao Jianjun looked at Du Yuze. In the young man's face, he saw a gravity he had never seen before. He didn't ask why; he simply ordered his secretary, "Notify the guard unit. Level 1 lockdown of the site. Without my written order, not even a fly is allowed inside."

"Du Yuze! What do you think you’re doing?" Director Zhang could not fathom this. "The most important thing right now is writing the incident report! We need to analyze why the dashboard data doesn't match the facts!"

"I am analyzing it," Du Yuze’s fingers danced across the keyboard as he pulled up a backend program he had never shown anyone. "I’m analyzing who wanted Wang Zhen and our aircraft to fall from the sky."

On his screen, dense streams of code and circuit diagrams began to flicker rapidly. This was not a routine troubleshooting session; it was a "system-level deep scan." He was ordering his system to act like a hound, sniffing out every byte and every faint anomaly in the electronic signals of the aircraft's avionics network.

Time ticked away. The people in the control room watched the cryptic data on Du Yuze's screen, not daring to draw a full breath.

Suddenly, a red warning box popped up in the center of the screen.

[WARNING! Illegal signal modulation detected in the T4 sensor signal input link for the right engine FADEC! Locating source of anomaly!]

There it was.

Du Yuze’s eyes were locked onto the screen. The circuit diagram zoomed in infinitely, finally pinpointing an area smaller than a fingernail. It was a signal processing unit, covered in dense electronic components. The system highlighted a nondescript ceramic capacitor with a flickering red circle.

"What is that?" Gao Jianjun stepped closer.

"A capacitor. Or rather, something disguised as one." Du Yuze tapped the tiny component on the screen. "My system detects that it is emitting a faint high-frequency signal inconsistent with its specifications, and its power consumption shows periodic, abnormal fluctuations."

[Anomaly source identified. Component signature matches 'Micro-Signal Hijacker/Modifier' in the database. Function: Intercepts raw sensor voltage signals, restricts them within preset safety thresholds, and outputs a forged 'normal' signal.]

Du Yuze projected the results of his system analysis onto the main screen.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop to freezing.

"Someone... swapped this part out." Du Yuze slowly stood up, casting a glance at everyone in the control room. "This little thing’s only purpose was to tell us 'everything is fine' until the moment the engine burned through and blew the plane to pieces."

He looked at Director Zhang one last time and said, word for word, "Director Zhang, do you still think I was gambling?"

Director Zhang’s lips trembled; he could not utter a single word.

Du Yuze did not look at him again. He sat back down and pulled up all the maintenance and assembly records related to that circuit board.

The real test was over.

The real war had begun.