42: Chapter 42 Internal Conflicts

The smoke from the base had not yet dissipated, and the smell of burning had already entered the nostrils, intertwining with the scent of blood, becoming the heaviest footnote behind the victory.

The moment Wang Jie stepped into the camp, he headed straight for the makeshift tallying station. The lights there were pale, reflecting the dense list of names in the register; every name crossed out meant a vibrant life left forever on the battlefield outside the city.

The casualty statistics for the Alliance were soon laid out on the desk: forty-seven killed, thirty-five seriously injured, and too many with minor injuries to count, only able to be temporarily recorded. Zhou Jianguo stood to the side, his fingertips white from gripping tight, his originally dark face now completely drained of color. Out of an Alliance force of four hundred, nearly one-eighth of their combat power had been lost in an instant; this wound was deep enough to see the bone.

Wang Jie's battle report was equally shocking. Twenty-three dead, fifteen seriously injured, and over thirty with minor injuries; five main battle tanks were completely scrapped, their armor plates twisted into bizarre shapes, the wreckage of two helicopters still emitted black smoke in the wasteland outside the city, and three infantry vehicles had also become irreparable scrap metal.

This was the most brutal battle since he had taken command.

The bodies of the fallen soldiers were neatly lined up in the open space, covered with faded military flags. Wang Jie walked slowly past, each step feeling like he was treading on his own heart. He recognized several of the young faces; when they set out yesterday, a recruit had even come over to ask him if they could have a drink of rice wine from his hometown after the victory. Now, those bright eyes were closed forever, leaving only a cold silence.

The wind swept through the camp, kicking up dust from the ground and a suppressed sob. Lin Waner approached quietly without speaking, only gently taking his hand. Her palm was warm, like a beam of light trying to pierce the gloom in his heart.

"They didn't die in vain," her voice was soft yet carried a steady strength. "You have already sought justice for them."

Wang Jie nodded slowly, his Adam's apple bobbing a few times, but he couldn't say anything. He knew better than anyone that war was a path paved with blood, but even with that realization, when the comrades he spent day and night with became cold bodies, the suffocation in his chest was still like a heavy boulder pressing down, making it hard to breathe.

As the night deepened, the bustle of the base gradually settled, yet a storm was quietly brewing in the Alliance's headquarters.

Zhou Jianguo summoned all the Alliance leaders for an emergency meeting. In the dim tent, smoke swirled, and the atmosphere was so oppressive it almost solidified. The original intention of the meeting was to discuss the next steps of the operational plan, but as soon as it began, the peace was shattered by a furious slam on the table.

"Forty-seven of our people are dead!" The speaker was Old Hu, a leader from the Southwest Sector. His eyes were bloodshot as he pointed at the casualty statistics on the table, his voice trembling with extreme anger. "And look at them? Only twenty-three! Why? Why is it always our brothers who are the ones charging at the front to die?"

Zhou Jianguo held the cigarette in his hand, trying to explain, "Old Hu, calm down. Wang Jie's troops have stronger firepower and higher tactical proficiency; they can complete maneuvers with minimal cost—"

"That just proves the point even more!" another leader stood up abruptly, interrupting him. "Since they're so strong, why didn't they take on the entire front line? Are our Alliance brothers born to be cannon fodder?"

These words were like a sharp knife, stabbing deeply into the heart of everyone in the tent.

Zhou Jianguo's words came to an abrupt halt. He opened his mouth but ultimately fell silent. He couldn't refute it because what these people said were undeniable facts.

In this battle, the Alliance had indeed taken on risks far beyond expectations. It wasn't that Wang Jie intentionally pushed them to a dead end, but the gap between the two sides was obvious—for the same blocking mission, Wang Jie's soldiers, relying on superior equipment and seamless coordination, could retreat calmly; whereas the Alliance's troops could only use their flesh and blood to fill the gaps in equipment, trading multiple sacrifices for the same result.

But this fact was too cruel. Once spoken, it would only further chill the hearts of these leaders who were already blinded by grief and anger.

The meeting eventually ended on a sour note. The tent door was slammed shut, leaving behind a room full of smoke and an unbridgeable rift.

Only Zhou Jianguo remained in the headquarters. He sat alone under the dim light, lighting one cigarette after another, the embers flickering in the night, reflecting his weary face. On the wall's battle map, dense red and blue markings outlined the battlefield situation and his current dilemma.

If they continued to cooperate, the cracks within the Alliance would only grow wider; today's questioning might turn into a complete split tomorrow. But if they broke off now, with the Alliance's current strength, they wouldn't have even half a chance to resist those increasingly powerful Evolvers and would ultimately end up being picked off one by one.

The ashtray was filled with cigarette butts, and the night outside grew deeper. Zhou Jianguo stared at the area on the map marked "Coalition Camp," his brow furrowed deeply.

The road ahead was vast and uncertain; he didn't even know where to go.