Chapter 145: The Cost of Underestimation

"Division commander! The Third Division has also been attacked!" the signal soldier reported anxiously, his voice almost drowned out by the surrounding explosions, "A large number of armored vehicles have appeared to the south; they've been cut off! The commander of the Third Division requests reinforcements!"

Xiao Yunlong felt a wave of dizziness. Their entire plan had been completely seen through, and both divisions fell into a meticulously designed trap.

At that moment, dense machine-gun fire suddenly erupted from the woods to the east.

"Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!"

Dozens of MG42 machine guns opened fire simultaneously, forming an impenetrable wall of fire. Each machine gun could fire 1,200 rounds per minute, and this terrifying firepower density left the field army's soldiers unable to raise their heads. Bullets poured down like rain, kicking up patches of dirt and blood on the ground.

"Get down! Get down!" Xiao Yunlong shouted, but it was already too late.

Under the machine-gun fire, hundreds of soldiers collapsed instantly. The 7.92mm caliber bullets easily pierced their bodies, kicking up patches of blood on the ground. A machine gunner tried to set up a heavy machine gun to counterattack, but a string of bullets hit his chest, sending him flying several meters backward before he slammed to the ground, unable to get up. Seven bullet holes were punched in his chest, blood spurting from each, quickly forming a pool of blood beneath him.

An officer tried to organize the soldiers to counterattack; just as he rose and waved his hand, a bullet struck him in the head. The bullet entered his forehead and exited the back of his skull, taking a large piece of bone and brain tissue with it. His body stiffened for a second, then he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, his eyes still open, filled with incomprehension and fear.

"Division commander! We're surrounded!" the chief of staff said, his voice trembling, his face smeared with dirt and blood, "There are enemies to the east, west, and south!"

Only then did Xiao Yunlong realize they had fallen into a desperate situation. The Fourth Bureau had not only set up an ambush but had also meticulously designed a huge pocket formation, drawing in the main forces of both divisions.

"Order the troops to break out to the north!" Li Guozhong issued the final command, his voice filled with despair.

But on the northern road, a mechanized grenadier unit suddenly appeared. Dozens of half-track armored vehicles fanned out, their heavy machine guns already sweeping fire. The sound of bullets slicing the air was like the whisper of the grim reaper; each round could take a life.

A machine gunner on an armored vehicle spotted a group of soldiers trying to flee and immediately swung the gun toward them. The tongues of flame from the machine gun blazed especially bright in the morning mist, and the bullet trajectories formed a deathly net that covered the entire area. Soldiers fell in swathes like wheat before a scythe, their bodies torn apart by bullets, blood spraying onto the ground in dark red blotches.

"We're surrounded! Enemies on all sides!" an officer shouted desperately, his voice filled with fear and incomprehension.

Xiao Yunlong stood frozen in place. He could not believe that his two elite divisions had been utterly crushed in less than half an hour. Around him were the soldiers' anguished cries, explosions, and the roar of machine guns; the air was thick with the smell of gunpowder, blood, and death.

The tank column had already driven into the midst of the troops, its tracks mercilessly crushing everything in its path. A soldier tried to attack a tank with a hand grenade; he bit the fuse, ready to throw, but the machine gunner on the tank's roof spotted him. A string of bullets turned his body into a sieve, blood spurting from dozens of holes as the grenade slipped from his limp hand and exploded beside him, blowing his body to pieces.

Another soldier attempted to approach from the tank's side, clutching a bundle of explosive charges. But just as he drew near, the tank suddenly turned, its massive tracks pinning him to the ground. His body emitted a sickening crunching sound under the tracks, blood and entrails gushing out from beneath them, staining the tank's tracks and the surrounding earth red.

"Surrender! You are already surrounded!" a cold voice came over the loudspeaker, echoing across the battlefield like the grim reaper's verdict.

Xiao Yunlong looked around. His troops had completely collapsed, soldiers scattering in flight, only to find that no matter which direction they fled, they would encounter dense fire blockades. Corpses and wounded littered the ground, wails and cries for help rising and falling. The air reeked of thick gunpowder smoke and blood, making it hard to breathe.

A wounded soldier lay on the ground, his legs blown off by artillery shells, blood continuously flowing from the stumps. He tried to press the wound with trembling hands, but blood kept draining away. His face had turned ashen, his lips purple, his gaze fading. "This battle... can't... be fought," he whispered weakly, then closed his eyes forever.

"Division commander, what do we do?" the chief of staff asked desperately, his voice filled with fear and incomprehension.

Xiao Yunlong gave a bitter laugh: "We've been tricked. From the very start, we were under the Fourth Bureau's control."

In the distance, an armored command vehicle slowly approached, its flag showing it belonged to the German Armored Division. Standing on it was not Lin Yu, but the division commander of the armored division, Feng Schmidt.

"Commander Xiao, your movements have been under our surveillance from the beginning." Feng Schmidt's voice came over the loudspeaker, "Lay down your weapons; you have no chance left."

Only then did Xiao Yunlong understand: they were not here to encircle and annihilate the Fourth Bureau, but had walked right into its trap as prey.

On the battlefield, the remnants of the two field divisions had begun to lay down their arms. In just one hour of ambush, a force of over twenty thousand had lost its combat capability. Corpses and wounded littered the ground as medics rushed about, but their numbers were far too few; most of the wounded could only wait in agony for death to come.

A young soldier lay in a pool of blood, a bullet in his chest, each breath bringing out a string of blood bubbles. He fumbled with trembling hands into his pocket and pulled out a photograph—a picture of him with his family. He gently touched the faces in the photo with his blood-stained fingers, a final tear slipping from his eye. Then his hand fell limp and he moved no more.

This was a perfect ambush, a meticulously planned battle of annihilation.

And in Shen City's Fourth Bureau Headquarters, Lin Yu was receiving battlefield reports over the radio. Upon hearing that the two field divisions had been completely wiped out, a satisfied smile spread across his face.

The battlefield was a scene of utter ruin; the remnants of the First and Third Divisions of the Luzhou Field Army fled like startled birds, scattering in all directions. But no matter which way they ran, they would encounter the ruthless slaughter of the Fourth Bureau's elite troops.

A company commander, leading the surviving thirty-odd men, attempted to break out toward the northeast, but after running just five hundred meters he ran into an ambush by a mechanized grenadier platoon. The MG42 machine guns opened fire, their bullets like the grim reaper's scythe, mowing down the entire company to the last man. The company commander was hit in the chest by three rounds, collapsing in a pool of blood, his eyes full of reluctance and despair.

On the western flank, the artillery battalion of the Fifth Division tried to set up firing positions to retaliate, but was spotted by two Tiger tanks. Amid the roar of the 88mm heavy cannons, the entire artillery battalion became a sea of fire. The gunners' severed limbs lay scattered on the ground, blood staining the earth red.

Xiao Yunlong stood on a small rise, watching his forces crumble beneath the Fourth Bureau's steel torrent. A force of over twenty thousand elite troops lost nearly eighty percent of its strength in less than two hours. Casualties were horrific, morale gone.

"We were wrong," Xiao Yunlong murmured to himself, "we underestimated Lin Yu..."