57: Chapter 58 Smash the mountain and scatter the pieces

The Iron Field, washed clean by the downpour, smelled intensely of damp earth.

Van Fleet's artillery barrage finally ceased.

The American forces did not immediately launch an Infantryman charge as they usually did,

instead, they allowed the roar of tank engines to fill the valley first.

Looking down from halfway up the mountain,

the dense, dark mass of steel monsters resembled waterlogged beetles,

spreading recklessly along the highway and the open ground on both flanks.

Inside the hastily constructed command post,

the air was so thick it felt like it could crush a person's lungs.

Before the tattered map, the stubbled face of Division Commander Cai Changyuan looked exceptionally grim.

He held half a red and blue pencil, his gaze fixed intently on the irregular circle representing the defensive positions of the 63rd Army's 189th Division.

"Division Commander, if we keep defending like this, we'll be swallowed whole."

The Chief of Staff's voice was hoarse as his fingertip drew a blood-red line across the map.

"The Americans have too many tanks. That madman Van Fleet, he intends to crush us into powder with steel."

Cai Changyuan said nothing.

He suddenly raised his hand and stabbed the map fiercely with the pencil tip.

With such force, the lead snapped with a 'crack' on the paper surface.

"No more defending."

Cai Changyuan looked up, his eyes bloodshot, like a lone wolf driven to desperation.

"Break up the units. By regiment, break battalions into companies, companies into platoons, and platoons into squads!"

Cai Changyuan's voice echoed in the dugout, laced with ferocity.

"No reserves! I want these few great mountains smashed to pieces! Turn them into two hundred nails and scatter them across the twenty kilometers facing the Iron Field!"

"Division Commander, doing this means we can't concentrate our firepower."

"That's the point—don't concentrate!" Cai Changyuan threw the broken pencil in his hand.

"Make the Americans feel like there are positions everywhere, like gunfire is coming from all directions.

I want to make Van Fleet's big piece of meat choke—unable to swallow, unable to spit it out, stuck right in his throat!"

This order traveled through radio waves like an electric current, piercing the curtain of rain and reaching the ears of every surviving player.

[System Mission Change: Disperse and Fragment.]

[Current Objective: Hold the flank of the nameless height 'Seed Mountain'. Personnel Limit: 3 people.]

Jack wiped the mud and water from his face,

looked at the new instruction on the system panel,

and turned to look at his comrades beside him.

"Hear that? We are now independent combat units."

Jack pulled the bolt of his rifle; the sound was somewhat crisp in the cold, damp air.

"From now on, no company commander will shout 'charge,' and no one will manage our meals."

Brother Bao was crouched beside a section of ruined trench,

fiddling with several American canned boxes he had scavenged from corpses, which were stuffed full of homemade explosives and gravel.

"This spot is well-chosen, the flank of Seed Mountain, perfectly situated at the highway bend."

He glanced up at the muddy path below the mountain.

"If the American tanks want to pass, they'll have to ask what we have in our hands first."

Dai Dai was huddled deep inside the shelter, carefully burying several dark brown flower seeds into the moist soil.

Her movements were light, as if afraid of disturbing something.

After finishing, she grabbed the carbine covered in mud, her eyes much colder than when she first entered the game.

"They're coming."

On the road at the foot of the mountain, an M46 'Patton' tank spewed a plume of black smoke, its tracks churning mud as it smashed through the roadblock like a wild bull.

It was followed by over a dozen trucks and half a company of Infantrymen.

These American soldiers, wearing raincoats,

held their rifles loosely,

seeming somewhat careless.

In their eyes, this height, recently plowed by ten thousand shells, could not possibly harbor any survivors.

"Wait until they're closer to fire."

Jack lowered his voice, his fingers resting on the trigger, his knuckles white from tension.

Fifty meters.

Thirty meters.

The turret of the American tank slowly rotated, its black muzzle pointing directly at a huge boulder halfway up the slope.

"Brother Bao!" Jack roared.

Brother Bao yanked the detonation cord in his hand.

Boom!

It wasn't a world-shattering explosion, but a muffled, thunderous rupture.

The massive, overhanging boulder by the roadside, whose base Brother Bao had already loosened, tumbled down under the force of the explosives.

The several tons of rock, accompanied by a small landslide, smashed directly onto the side armor of the M46 tank.

The grating sound of twisting steel made one's teeth ache.

The tank was thrown half a meter sideways, plunging into the roadside drainage ditch,

its tracks spinning uselessly, kicking up clouds of mud.

"Fire!"

Jack pulled the trigger.

The recoil of the old rifle struck his shoulder socket as an American soldier, preparing to set up a machine gun, had his skull blown off.

Dai Dai and Brother Bao fired simultaneously.

Although there were only three guns, because they occupied the high ground and were firing from the side, the bullets rained down like pellets on the unprepared American Infantrymen.

The Americans fell into chaos.

"Take cover! Take cover!"

The American commander shrieked over the radio, but he couldn't locate the enemy.

The gunfire seemed to come from all directions; it was as if every rock concealed the strength of an entire division.

Two F-80 'Shooting Star' fighter jets screamed in, guided by the trapped tank, and dropped napalm bombs onto the mountainside.

An orange-red dragon of fire rolled across the slope.

The heat wave rushed over them; Jack felt like his eyebrows were about to be scorched off.

But he didn't move, pressing himself tightly into the bottom of a water-filled crater.

"Don't look up! They can't see us!"

Jack gasped for breath, his lungs full of scorched air.

"This is the Division Commander's tactic. We are few, our targets are small. Their bombs are like using a cannon to kill a mosquito!"

As expected, the planes circled twice, failing to find any valuable bombing targets, and reluctantly departed.

Meanwhile, those American Infantrymen were pinned down in the drainage ditch by the fire from these three people for a full half hour, not daring to look up.

Night finally descended like a heavy black curtain, covering the scorched earth.

The gunfire subsided into sporadic bursts. The Americans retreated, leaving behind a few corpses and the immobilized tank.

Jack leaned against the scorching rock, his stomach letting out an untimely rumble.

The system notification sounded by his ear, cold and devoid of emotion:

[Server-wide Battle Report: Day One Defense Concluded. 189th Division Casualties: 2400. Remaining Defense Nodes: 182.]

Jack looked at that number, his heart feeling as if it were being squeezed by a hand.

This method of fighting was trading lives for time.

Breaking the division down into sand was precisely to make the enemy's tracks get stuck, ensuring they would lose a few teeth for every inch they advanced.

"I'm hungry."

Brother Bao slumped onto the muddy ground,

clutching the last half of an anti-tank grenade, his gaze somewhat vacant as he looked down the mountain.

The American camp below was brightly lit.

The wind direction had changed, carrying the scent of frying Spam mixed with the rich aroma of coffee, and even the faint sound of jazz music up the valley.

Dai Dai swallowed, burying her head in her knees.

"Are they going on a picnic?"

Brother Bao cursed, his voice weak.

"This old man doesn't even have any fried noodles left."

Jack stared at the lights, his eyes shining frighteningly in the darkness.

He licked his dry, peeling lips and wrapped the rifle sling once around his arm.

"Let's go."

Jack stood up, his frame swaying slightly, but he stood steadily.

"Where to?"

"To feast on the rich."

Jack chambered a round, "Since the Division Commander scattered us out, we have to learn how to find our own food."