Chapter 137: The Slumbering Valkyrie Goddess Ship  

"The firepower of the NB-7 energy rifle is exceptionally formidable." 

Dr. Zola's eyes gleamed with fervor as he spoke excitedly. 

"Each shot it delivers contains roughly five times the energy of an NS-7 energy pistol, with far greater concentration. Its destructive capability against heavy armor is also remarkably potent." 

"In terms of range, its effective striking distance exceeds one thousand meters. Beyond that, while its power does diminish somewhat, it remains highly lethal." 

"Moreover, its firing accuracy is superb, rivaling any sniper rifle, and it is minimally affected by external factors such as wind resistance." 

After finishing his explanation, Dr. Zola tapped the control panel, and from the ground about two hundred meters away, a massive steel behemoth slowly emerged. 

It was a heavy tank—over ten meters long, nearly three meters tall, and equipped with a long, thick cannon barrel. 

"This is an outdated model we've phased out. Its armor defense capabilities are still slightly superior to the latest main battle tanks fielded by the U.S. today," Dr. Zola introduced. 

Chen Mo gave a nod and, without wasting words, raised the energy rifle, took aim, and swiftly pulled the trigger. 

A much thicker and more dazzling blue beam shot from the barrel, instantly crossing the two-hundred-meter distance and slamming into the tank's broad, sturdy steel tread. 

A burst of blue light exploded upon impact, severing the heavy tread outright. The lower half, succumbing to gravity, crashed loudly to the ground. 

*Clang! * 

The second beam struck the tank's thickest frontal armor. 

A tremendous release of energy erupted on impact, instantly blasting a crater about twenty centimeters deep and the size of a human head into the hardened special alloy armor. 

Though it failed to penetrate the armor outright, Chen Mo was satisfied with the result. After all, this was a rifle, not an artillery piece or an anti-tank missile—its penetrative power had limits. The fact that it could gouge such a deep cavity into the tough alloy meant its destructive force was already on par with a small-caliber cannon. 

The third beam struck the exact same spot as before, further expanding the damage to the armor. 

The fourth shot followed immediately, finally piercing through the armor on the foundation laid by the previous two hits. A muffled explosion sounded from within the tank as flames erupted inside, thick smoke billowing out from the gaps.

Chen Mo then shifted the rifle's muzzle and aimed at the tank's side armor. This time, the dazzling blue beam pierced straight through, tearing a bowl-sized hole in the armor. 

This demonstrated that, unless facing the strongest frontal armor, a single shot could disable the tank by targeting the treads or weaker defensive points—or even eliminate the crew inside outright. 

Satisfied, Chen Mo ceased firing and nodded in approval before stowing the rifle in his spatial storage, along with several extra energy magazines for backup. 

Then, he turned his attention back to Dr. Zola. 

"Do you have any conventional firearms?" 

Dr. Zola seemed momentarily caught off guard by the question, but Colonel John, who had been standing rigidly at attention nearby, spoke up. 

"Sir, we have the Kongsberg K1 military pistol, produced by Norway's arms factories," John said before walking over to a nearby weapon rack and retrieving a black handgun. 

"This pistol was actually designed by our weapons division and secretly supplied to the Norwegian military for production. Its performance surpasses all other handguns currently in existence." 

Hydra operatives were exclusively equipped with energy weapons, rendering conventional firearms unnecessary. However, field agents—including intelligence officers, special operatives, and spies—required nondescript weapons that wouldn't draw attention. 

Thus, this pistol was developed and handed over to Norway for production, where it was also adopted by their armed forces. 

To avoid suspicion, the gun was made available for commercial sale, and its exceptional performance quickly made it highly sought after by special forces units and firearms enthusiasts worldwide. 

However, its exorbitant price kept it out of reach for most. Even the U.S., despite its deep pockets, only issued it to a handful of elite special forces units—including the Secret Service tasked with protecting the president. 

Wealthy firearms collectors and military enthusiasts clamored to own one, as possessing a Kongsberg K1 was the dream of every gun enthusiast. Sadly, its steep cost deterred the vast majority. 

Yet, none of this dampened its reputation. Its performance was simply unmatched, making it the undisputed "King of Handguns." 

Chen Mo took the pistol from John's hand. Its design bore some resemblance to the Beretta 92F—rugged and exuding power. 

"This handgun fires 9mm Parabellum rounds, with a magazine capacity of 15 rounds. It measures 217 millimeters in length, weighs 0.96 kilograms unloaded, has a muzzle velocity of 420 meters per second, and an effective range of 100 meters," Colonel John explained. 

"Its accuracy is exceptional, and its failure rate is extremely low. It performs reliably in extreme environments—polar regions, deserts, jungles—and under harsh combat conditions, including freezing temperatures, sandstorms, dust, mud, and even water, ensuring all-weather operability." 

Chen Mo tested it himself and confirmed that it far outperformed his original M1911. Its handling was superb, with an excellent grip—truly a Hydra-engineered masterpiece, the undisputed "King of Combat Handguns."

Although energy pistols were far more powerful and superior in performance, they couldn't be revealed openly. Against ordinary enemies, conventional weapons were practically no different—with Chen Mo's marksmanship, one shot was still all it took to eliminate a target. 

As for magazine capacity? For someone with a spatial storage that allowed instant reloading, it was a non-issue. 

Thus, energy weapons would remain his trump card, to be used sparingly, while conventional firearms would serve as his primary weapons for everyday use. 

Pleased with the pistol's performance, Chen Mo stored it in his spatial storage before turning to John with an order. 

"Prepare three more of these pistols and ten crates of loaded magazines. Deliver them to my office." 

With his expanded storage space, Chen Mo had no qualms about carrying massive amounts of ammunition. At 125 cubic meters, these supplies would barely make a dent. 

"Yes, sir!" Colonel John responded. 

With a nod, Chen Mo strode out of the weapons testing grounds. 

Time was limited, so he didn't linger to explore Hydra's latest equipment or delve into the specifics of their technological advancements. 

There would be plenty of opportunities later. Right now, he had more pressing matters to attend to. 

--- 

**Northwestern Norway, Scandinavian Mountains** 

An endless stretch of rugged peaks rose and fell, their summits buried under thick layers of ice and snow—primordial, vast, and desolate. 

Near the end of a long, deep fjord, about a dozen kilometers from the western coast, a towering mountain stood amidst the encircling ranges, its slopes almost entirely cloaked in snow. 

A biting wind howled across the mountainside, whipping up swirling flurries of crystalline snowflakes. 

Suddenly, a chunk of snow broke loose from a section of exposed rock. Then, the massive boulder itself—seemingly fused with the mountain—began to shift. Within moments, it slid fully aside, revealing a hidden aircraft runway. 

A sleek black fighter jet, its design unlike any known aircraft in the world, shot out from the tunnel at blistering speed, racing westward toward the open sea. 

The rock face slowly sealed shut, returning to its original state. Aside from the small patch of fallen snow, there was no trace of disturbance—no hint that anything had ever been amiss. 

After just two days at the Norwegian base, Chen Mo, accompanied by Colonel John, had departed aboard the advanced fighter.

This cutting-edge Hydra fighter, powered by the Tesseract's energy, was a hypersonic aircraft capable of speeds exceeding Mach 5. In just half an hour, it had traversed over 2,000 kilometers to reach Chen Mo's destination. 

Peering through the cockpit glass, the view outside revealed an endless expanse of ice fields stretching to the right, merging with the vast blue ocean. 

This was the southernmost tip of Greenland, where land met sea. The frigid climate kept the waters perpetually locked under thick ice—and beneath that frozen crust lay the Valkyrie, the very ship Chen Mo had personally sunk into the depths decades ago. 

The sleek black Hydra fighter began to decelerate, its rear thrusters gradually rotating downward as it switched to vertical takeoff and landing mode. Amid swirling snow kicked up by the engines, the aircraft descended smoothly onto the icy plain near the shoreline. 

*Hiss—* 

The sealed cabin slowly opened. Chen Mo rose from his seat and leaped directly from the plane onto the snow-covered ground. 

Close behind him, Colonel John—his security detail commander—followed suit, landing beside Chen Mo. 

From his coat pocket, John produced a palm-sized tablet. A few taps later, the screen displayed a crisp satellite map. A blinking green dot marked their current location, while a few hundred meters ahead, deep beneath the ice, red outlines traced the unmistakable triangular silhouette of an enormous aircraft. 

Handing the tablet to Chen Mo, John said respectfully, "Sir, satellite scans confirm the Valkyrie is submerged about 300 meters north of us. The ice above it has completely sealed it off." 

Chen Mo took the tablet, studying the familiar outline of the aircraft. A wave of nostalgia washed over him. 

Seventy years ago, he had met his "end" here. 

Now, he would begin anew from this very place.