Chapter 30: Outlandish Maneuvers
40 meters,
60 meters,
80 meters,
100 meters,
300 meters,
360 meters,
…
The numbers on the altimeter kept refreshing.
The Tachikawa Ki-95c trainer climbed at a 35-degree angle, its engine power running smoothly and the airframe steady.
To say he wasn't excited would be a lie.
This was his first time taking off and flying a trainer solo, achieving a feat that most people would never dare to attempt, could never do, and would never succeed at. Who wouldn't be thrilled?
It was more than just excitement.
The moment all three wheels left the ground, while maintaining steady control, Zhou Zhihan felt goosebumps break out all over his body.
He took three deep breaths to calm himself.
Guided by the flight manual, Zhou Zhihan gradually increased the aircraft's pitch.
When the trainer’s climb angle reached 70 degrees relative to the horizon, he pushed the throttle all the way forward, applying maximum power.
"Boom!"
The engine erupted with a louder roar, its RPM reaching its peak.
The supercharger adjustment knob was functioning normally.
The supercharger pressure gauge was normal.
The propeller pitch control lever was normal.
The pitot tube heating switch was normal.
The engine tachometer was normal.
The engine temperature gauge was normal.
The air-cooling control valve was operating normally.
The needle in the center of the engine's triple pressure gauge was slightly high but still within the normal range, indicating that the single-engine thrust had reached its peak, and the connections between the engine and the airframe, as well as the airframe and the wings, were within the safety limits for the climbing pressure.
The maximum service ceiling of this Tachikawa Ki-95c trainer was 3,410 meters. As long as it was properly maintained, the air pressure the airframe withstood while flying at full speed at an altitude of 3,000 meters remained within a controllable safety range.
In the 1930s and 1940s, the performance of fighter aircraft across various nations was largely similar. When flying in non-combat conditions, flight altitudes were typically kept below 1,500 to 2,000 meters.
Flying at this altitude was most comfortable for the pilot, and fuel consumption was at its most economical.
Many fighters of this era were not built entirely of steel or titanium alloys. Aside from a few critical, irreplaceable components made of sheet metal, many parts were constructed from high-density wood and plastic. The advantage of this was a reduction in weight, which improved the aircraft's maneuverability and lowered fuel consumption.
Of course, this was not done to cut corners, but out of necessity. Restricted by the engine technology of the time, engines lacked the power to support a heavier frame, so manufacturers had to sacrifice airframe mass to enhance maneuverability and improve survival rates in aerial combat.
Another important reason was the extreme attrition of war and the severe shortage of raw materials.
Take the Japanese Zero fighter, for example; it weighed less than 2,000 kilograms. This made the aircraft's power appear exceptionally formidable, allowing for rapid climb rates, tighter turning radii, and great agility, making it a nightmare for Allied fighters early in World War II.
However, the materials used in its construction also limited the Zero's service ceiling. These fighters only climbed above 4,200 meters—but below 5,000 meters—during actual combat, then dived rapidly, sacrificing altitude for speed to launch attacks.
In normal circumstances, fighters rarely flew above 2,000 meters. They only climbed rapidly to their maximum ceiling during combat to evade enemy machine guns, cannons, and anti-aircraft fire, or to engage in dogfights. By gaining altitude to secure the advantage, they would then push the nose down into a dive, trading altitude for speed to gain a firing advantage from the 12, 10, or 14 o'clock positions.
When flying above 2,000 meters, the temperature drops gradually, and fuel consumption increases accordingly.
When the altitude reaches over 3,000 meters, the temperature inside the cockpit can be 18 to 25 degrees lower than on the ground.
Currently, the temperature in New York is between 22 and 26 degrees Celsius, but at 3,000 meters, the cockpit temperature is only -3 to 8 degrees.
This is why, even in the heat of summer during World War II, pilots wore leather flight jackets when taking to the skies.
By the end of the war, the service ceilings of many fighters increased to over 5,000 meters. In any season, the temperature would drop below zero, and the air would become thin. Cheaply produced fighters like the Zero could simply not fly for long periods above 4,000 meters.
Zhou Zhihan was wearing an invisible flight suit that could automatically regulate its internal temperature as the altitude increased.
He had bought the flight suit for 6,000 Air Combat Coins, which was equivalent to 6,000 US dollars.
It wasn't just expensive.
It was obscenely expensive.
The altimeter displayed:
3,100 meters
3,220 meters
3,270 meters
As the Tachikawa Ki-95c trainer reached 3,300 meters, the entire airframe began to tremble due to the air pressure.
Zhou Zhihan pushed the control stick forward slightly with his right hand, dipping the wings, while his left hand pulled the throttle back at a snail's pace to reduce fuel flow. The nose of the 95c trainer immediately leveled out from its 75-degree climb to a flight path parallel to the ground.
When a World War II-era aircraft reached its limit altitude, the engine would begin to vibrate unnaturally. This served as a warning to the pilot, but only experienced pilots could perceive this subtle shaking. Some pilots, under the high tension of combat, would fail to notice this altitude warning and continue to climb, increasing the risk of the aircraft disintegrating in mid-air.
In aerial combat, pilots could not stare at their instrument panels and altimeters every second. When the aircraft began to tremble, it served as a reminder that the maximum climbing altitude had been reached.
During the war, due to the acute shortage of pilots, many green recruits were rushed through training and sent to the skies. Numerous accidents occurred where aircraft disintegrated in mid-air due to improper handling.
From startup to taxiing, to the right hand pulling the stick for takeoff, the left hand pushing the throttle for full power, the steep-angle climb, and now the right hand pushing the stick to level the nose and the left hand pulling back on the throttle—Zhou Zhihan had gone through every maneuvering and flying process that every rookie must endure.
The abnormal shaking of the airframe vanished, the single engine ran smoothly, and all instruments displayed normal readings.
Zhou Zhihan first looked up at the white clouds and blue sky, then looked down at the earth from a bird's-eye view.
In this space, the earth below had no buildings, no rivers, no mountains, and no forests; it was just an endless, barren expanse, which added a touch of loneliness to his flight.
The sky felt like an endless highway, stretching forward forever.
The flight manual in the system issued another command: push the control stick forward, point the nose 75 degrees toward the ground, and push the throttle for a high-power dive.
Zhou Zhihan had been waiting for the manual to issue instructions for various maneuvers, but he hadn't expected it to ask for the simplest dive: "Aren't we going to do some maneuvers? A few simple loops, or inside/outside radius turns, separation S-maneuvers, barrel rolls, or aileron rolls?"
System: "Today, the host will only repeatedly practice takeoff, climbing, level flight, diving, and landing. Master these basic actions first, then proceed from shallow to deep, from simple to complex. Future flight environments and complexity will also increase. Once the host’s flying skills are refined, real anti-aircraft artillery will appear in the [Aerial Overlord] manual to test you."
Zhou Zhihan: "..."
"The host has accomplished in this first flight what it takes most pilots two years of aviation school to accumulate. Furthermore, you are flying solo. Sophomore students still have instructors with them, flying at most once a week for less than an hour per flight. Calculate it, host: how long would it take other pilots to reach the experience and technical mastery you've gained from this first flight?"
Zhou Zhihan: "..."
System: "If one person practices one killing move ten thousand times, and another person learns ten thousand different killing moves once each, tell me, whose power is greater?"
Zhou Zhihan: "I don't answer questions meant for primary schoolers."
System: "..."
Zhou Zhihan pushed the control stick forward sharply and stomped on the rudder pedals simultaneously. The tail snapped upward, the nose pointed toward the earth, and he pulled the throttle back at a crawl. The airframe hesitated for a moment before plunging into a dive.
Zhou Zhihan shouted: "This is way more exciting than a roller coaster!"
System: "That’s a flashy trick! A primary schooler who hasn't seen the world."
Zhou Zhihan: "..."
These two chapters today took the author almost ten hours.
Right now, this "primary schooler" has a splitting headache.
I humbly ask for your recommendations and five-star reviews.
(End of chapter)