At the front of the fleet, near the target ships, three Gephra submarines suddenly surfaced and launched torpedoes.

They surfaced to avoid being hit by submarines behind them—since this was live fire, any accident at the end would be a serious problem.

If it were just this, it wouldn’t be surprising, since Federation subs would do the same soon enough. But the problem was, the Gephra subs had already reached their attack positions, while the Federation subs had only completed about 70% of their journey.

In other words, Gephra’s submarines were faster.

“This is impossible!” the Federation Commander-in-Chief’s toothpick dropped without him noticing. He quickly stood up. “Find the footage, calculate their launch point and timing—I need to know how fast they are!”

After submarines proved effective in naval battles, the Federation Navy intensified research. Among many parameters, underwater speed was crucial.

It determined whether a sub could approach targets quickly and silently, then launch torpedoes effectively. The farther from the target, the lower the hit rate; beyond a certain distance, hitting was basically luck.

With limited torpedoes onboard, subs had to get close fast to be effective.

Gephra’s subs were faster underwater than the Federation’s—meaning Gephra would hold more initiative in battle.

The joint exercise command center erupted in shock, and the world followed.

Everyone was stunned that Gephra’s subs were faster than even the Federation’s, which had pioneered submarine warfare. The Federation lost points.

In the palace, the Emperor of Gephra exhaled with relief, a faint smile returning to his pale face. “Looks like we succeeded.”

He glanced at the Navy Minister, who sighed heavily—success meant he wouldn’t have to resign, could stay in office for at least another decade, benefiting his family for years.

“Yes, Your Majesty, we succeeded,” the minister smiled, knowing flattering words pleased the Emperor.

The Emperor’s spirits lifted. “I wonder what expression the Federation’s president wears now…”

What expression could the Federation president have? Confusion.

He knew nothing of military affairs beyond asking the Defense Minister and top generals simple questions like Can we win? and Can we defend?

Understanding these subtle shifts was too much. That was a perk of the presidency—no need to master details, just charm capitalists, lie, brag, and shamelessly do whatever it took.

Sounds easy, but few could keep the capitalists happy.

“I want to know what this means. I see something worrying on your faces…” the president asked the defense and navy officials, shifting the mood from cheerful to tense.

A colonel said grimly, “Mr. President, this means we might be falling behind in submarine tactics.”

“Their faster speed lets them easily approach our warships, even using blind flanking maneuvers. A sea battle’s outcome is uncertain.”

The president’s face darkened, just as the Emperor of Gephra expected. “We have a new sub program, right?”

He vaguely recalled signing off on 31 military projects.

The president of Shepford Marine stood. “Yes, Mr. President, the Nightfang II design is nearly finalized, with deliveries starting late next year.”

The president shook his head. “I don’t care. I want to know if Nightfang II’s specs surpass what we’ve just seen.”

He pointed at the screen. “Better than Gephra’s subs.”

“I need to make a call…”

After the president’s permission, the Shepford Marine CEO quickly went to a small room to speak with engineers.

Those engineers had watched the exercise and were equally shocked by Gephra’s submarine speed. They furiously calculated until the CEO’s call came back.

Ten minutes later, the CEO returned, less at ease. “Mr. President, after consulting our engineers, our theoretical specs exceed their current performance by about 10–20%.”

“I’ve also ordered accelerated research on new technologies. We’re confident we can fully surpass them!”

The president relaxed slightly. “Good. Don’t fear pressure—it can be motivation.”

The CEO smiled and sat down, though he wasn’t optimistic. He lied.

Engineers told him that without a breakthrough, even redesigning Nightfang II for max performance would only match Gephra’s speed—maybe even fall short.

He dared not say this. A $700 million contract and follow-ups depended on it. He trusted the board would understand the lie.

With good news, the president’s anxiety eased. He looked at the Minister of Science and Education. “I remember Gephra sent a delegation, right?”

He hadn’t met them—the cultural visit was nominally private, despite including Federation officials and an imperial princess. Private meant no presidential reception.

Otherwise, every minor visit would demand the president’s attention—how could he work?

He recalled this now to smooth relations.

International relations were simple: If you’re strong, I’ll be cautious. If I’m strong, you better back down.

The minister nodded. “Yes, that’s true…”

No one treated it seriously; the delegation’s status was indeed low.

“Arrange a reception. Show our Federation’s hospitality and warmth,” the president said, frowning. “I recall that…”

He looked around, then regretted not bringing Mr. Truman along today.

His fingers tapped the table. “The emperor’s sister…”

“Princess Jania, Mr. President,” someone suddenly recalled.

The president glanced at the young man standing aside, nodded. “Yes, Princess Jania. I heard Lynch had a scandal with her during the visit?”

The Security Committee representative confirmed, “Not just in Gephra. Lynch secretly met Princess Jania several times after the delegation arrived.”

“Add Lynch to the reception list. The delegation must know the Federation people cherish peace…”

While the world was stunned by Gephra’s submarines pulling off a huge upset, three Gephra subs that shouldn’t even exist were slowly moving away from the exercise zone underwater.

Every sailor in the cramped subs wore a serious expression—they carried a heavy burden.

In reality, they were the real exercise warships. In other words, the Emperor of Gephra and his ministers had pulled a stunt.

Late last night, they secretly sent these three subs to a preset location behind the target ships, hidden from the observation fleet.

After the subs on this side finished diving, the three real subs surfaced but didn’t head to their planned positions. Instead, they turned around and left the battlefield, while the hidden subs behind the targets began their dive and entered the designated zone.

The purpose was to create the illusion that Gephra’s subs outperformed the Federation’s—a necessary deception.

If Gephra hadn’t performed so terribly in amphibious operations, they wouldn’t have resorted to cheating for victory. It was an insult to the Empire’s spirit. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

But for the Empire’s sake, they had no choice.

If their subs revealed truly terrifying performance data, no one—Federation included—would dare challenge Gephra’s naval dominance for at least three to five years.

Having developed subs for warfare, Gephra knew better than anyone the current value of submarines. Unless a sub surfaced to expose itself, no effective counterattack was possible.

More importantly, it misled others, distracting attention toward submarine speed and away from other areas.

Gephra’s Emperor also had plans to wage a real-but-fake digital war with the Federation, using exaggerated military specs to drain the Federation into a vicious arms race.

New expensive military gear would face obsolescence before even entering service, devastating the Federation’s economy and research.

Nation versus nation.

Numbers versus numbers.

In the end, they’d realize they had been playing a game of lies.

This was the Race Plan.