161: Chapter 161 The Madness of a Trapped Beast and a Flesh and Blood Fortress

Min Aung Hlaing's vision went dark. At Zhang Cheng's rate of advance, he could reach the gates of Naypyidaw in three days. A week? By then, whether Naypyidaw would still be in his hands was a question.

"General Miller, we had an agreement! The USA promised to protect the current Myanmar government!" he almost roared.

"The prerequisite for the agreement was that you could demonstrate the will to resist and military capability," Miller said coldly. "But from the performance at Meiktila until now... General, if I may be blunt, your troops are like primitives with sticks facing a fully armed modern army in front of Zhang Cheng."

The call disconnected.

Min Aung Hlaing stood in a daze, the satellite phone slipping from his hand and hitting the ground with a dull thud.

"General..." Chief of Staff Wu Tun Chin asked cautiously, "The Americans... have they really gone?"

"They're gone," Min Aung Hlaing laughed miserably. "They've run away, leaving us here to wait for death."

A deathly silence filled the command center. All the officers lowered their heads; some already had despair in their eyes.

But Min Aung Hlaing suddenly straightened his back.

"They ran, so we'll fight ourselves!" His voice suddenly rose, a glimmer of madness flashing in his eyes. "Naypyidaw is the heart of Myanmar! We have eighty thousand loyal and brave soldiers here, the strongest fortifications, and ample ammunition! Zhang Cheng wants to take this place? Then let him pave the road with corpses!"

He walked to the battle map and jabbed his finger heavily at the Naypyidaw urban area: "Order all troops to enter the highest state of combat readiness! The outer defense lines are to delay and wear down the enemy through layered resistance! In the urban defense line, every building must become a fortress, and every street a graveyard! Tell the soldiers this is a war of national defense! Those who retreat will be killed! Those who surrender will be killed! Their families will be held collectively responsible!"

"General, the civilians..." a young staff officer said softly.

"Civilians?" Min Aung Hlaing turned to stare at him, his gaze looking as if it could devour a man. "Concentrate the civilians in the frontline neighborhoods! Make Zhang Cheng afraid to use heavy artillery! Make his tanks afraid to charge! If necessary... let the civilians walk in front of the army! I want to see if this self-proclaimed 'liberator' Zhang Cheng dares to fire on the common people!"

The orders were passed down, carrying a sense of doomsday madness.

Naypyidaw, this meticulously planned new capital, was being transformed into a giant death trap. Soldiers herded weeping civilians into designated buildings, planted anti-tank mines and IEDs in the streets, and positioned snipers and machine-gun nests in high-rise buildings.

Meanwhile, on the three highways outside the city, Zhang Cheng's steel torrent was steadily advancing.

Images sent back by reconnaissance drones showed that the Myanmar Army's resistance was weaker than expected—often, a single artillery barrage or a round of armored charges would cause the defense line to collapse. Most of the captured Myanmar Army soldiers were gaunt and demoralized; many were farmers who had just been conscripted and couldn't even hold a gun steadily.

"Min Aung Hlaing is conserving his strength," Zhao Yuxun judged. "He has withdrawn all his elite troops to the urban area. These on the outskirts are cannon fodder, used to delay time and wear us down."

"Then speed up," Zhang Cheng said, looking at the map. "Order the East and West armies to reach their designated positions on the outskirts of Naypyidaw by sunset tomorrow. For the Central army, I want to see tanks driving into the urban area by noon the day after tomorrow at the latest."

"If we encounter civilians blocking the way..."

"Evacuate them as much as possible and ensure their safety." Zhang Cheng paused. "But if the Myanmar Army uses civilians as human shields... tell the frontline commanders: casualties are inevitable in war. Our primary mission is to win and to overthrow Min Aung Hlaing's regime. In the process, protect the innocent as much as possible, but do not let moral kidnapping tie your hands."

This was a cruel but realistic order.

War is never clean. Especially in urban warfare, and especially when one side does not hesitate to use civilians as bargaining chips.

At dusk, the East Army was the first to encounter stubborn resistance.

At the western foot of the Bago Mountains, in a small town called "Natmauk." The terrain here was treacherous, with steep cliffs on both sides and only one highway passing through the middle. The Myanmar Army had deployed an elite infantry battalion here, equipped with anti-tank missiles and mortars, and had even blown up parts of the mountain to block the road.

Lei Zhen, commander of the "Lightning" Brigade, stood in the command vehicle, looking at the images sent back by the drones, his brow furrowed.

"A typical canyon ambush terrain. If we force an attack, the losses will be significant."

"Then let's bypass it," the deputy brigade commander suggested. "Flank through the mountain forests on the side."

"There's no time," Lei Zhen shook his head. "Order the engineer company to clear the way with 'Gongfeng' mine-clearing vehicles. The tank units will provide fire cover from behind, using smoke grenades to obscure the enemy's vision."

The order was given, and two newly issued "Gongfeng" unmanned mine-clearing vehicles drove onto the highway. These steel beetles were six meters long, and the microwave transmitters at the front began to work, pre-detonating mines buried under the road surface.

"Boom, boom, boom—!"

A series of explosions rang out on the highway, but the "Gongfeng's" thick armor blocked the armor-piercing fragments, and they continued forward. Occasionally, anti-tank missiles were fired from the cliffs, but they were all intercepted by the accompanying tanks' active defense systems.

Forty minutes later, the road was cleared.

"Armored battalion, charge!"

Twelve M1A2s lined up in a column and charged through the canyon at forty kilometers per hour. The Myanmar Army's small arms fire clattered against the tank armor but caused no substantial damage. Occasionally, an RPG rocket hit, but it only made the tanks shake slightly.

After rushing out of the canyon, the tank cluster quickly deployed, using their main guns and machine guns to clear the enemy on the cliffs on both sides. The mechanized infantry followed up, clearing point by point.

Two hours later, the battle ended.

Of the Myanmar Army battalion of over five hundred men, more than a hundred were killed, over three hundred were captured, and the rest scattered. Meanwhile, Zhang Cheng's troops only lost three "Gongfeng" mine-clearing vehicles and two armored vehicles, with no fatalities.

Similar crushing scenes were constantly played out on the West and Central routes.

Before nightfall, the three armies had advanced another thirty to fifty kilometers. The Central Army, closest to Naypyidaw, was less than eighty kilometers away.

As night fell, Zhang Cheng looked at the battle reports in the temporary command post, but there wasn't much joy on his face.

"It's too smooth," he said to Old K. "Unbelievably smooth."

"Min Aung Hlaing is contracting his forces, preparing for a final battle with us in Naypyidaw," Old K analyzed. "He probably thinks that urban street fighting can offset our armored and technological advantages."

"Urban warfare is indeed troublesome," Zhang Cheng admitted. "But our 'Urban Combat Modular System' was prepared for just this. What I'm worried about isn't the street fighting, but..."

He looked south, in the direction of Naypyidaw.

"It's the Americans. They won't just admit defeat like this. The failure at Meiktila will only make them more desperate. The next wave of attacks might use their truly trump card stuff."

"We need to be prepared."

"We've always been preparing." Zhang Cheng walked to the weapon display rack, picked up a newly captured US Army "javelin" anti-tank missile, and said, "Tell the troops to get a good night's rest. Tomorrow... we start tackling the tough nuts."

The night was deep. On the Naypyidaw plains, both armies were accumulating strength for the final showdown.

And in far-off Washington, a fierce debate over whether to continue increasing troops and whether to use extreme measures had only just begun.

Jin Mao Pu's roar could be heard even across the Pacific.