Chapter 165: Crushing from End to End

On the streets surrounding the Works Bureau, the armed forces of the British Concession are hurriedly setting up defenses.

The patrol officers, dressed in dark‑blue uniforms, wear revolvers at their waists and hold Lee‑Enfield rifles. They pile sandbags at the intersections, erect roadblocks, and try to form a defensive line along the street. These patrolmen, who usually flaunt their power in the concession, now wear unmistakable tension on their faces.

The Royal Marine soldiers appear even more professional. They wear khaki uniforms, round steel helmets, and carry 1907 Lee‑Enfield rifles. Each squad is also equipped with a Vickers water‑cooled heavy machine gun operated by four men. This was the British Army's standard issue at the time, sufficient for dealing with ordinary riots.

"Mount the machine gun at that corner," a British Sergeant with a handlebar mustache orders loudly, "Watch the ammunition supply!"

A few soldiers immediately hoist the heavy Vickers machine gun and rush to the designated spot. This water‑cooled heavy machine gun requires a constant supply of cooling water, but its 250‑round drum can provide sustained fire‑suppression.

At the high ground of the Works Bureau building, several snipers have taken positions. They are using Lee‑Enfield sniper rifles equipped with scopes, which at the time were considered quite fine equipment.

Along both sides of the street, some requisitioned cars have been converted into makeshift armored vehicles. British engineers reinforced the bodies with thick steel plates and cut firing ports into the cabins. Though inferior to true armored vehicles, they can still offer some cover in street fighting.

"Sir," a young British Second Lieutenant reports to the commander, "We have set up defenses at the main intersections: three Vickers heavy machine guns, two 18‑pound Field Artillery pieces, and six armored vehicles."

"Very good," the commander nods, but his brows remain tightly knit, "Keep the soldiers on alert. That Lin Yu is not an easy opponent."

On the street, soldiers constantly move back and forth. Some check ammunition, some reinforce the defenses, and others use telescopes to observe the surroundings. Yet everyone can feel an intangible pressure.

They have all heard the news from the French Concession. The fate of those Frenchmen chills these British soldiers. Though well‑equipped and well‑trained, facing the imminent unknown threat leaves each of them uneasy.

In the night, a convoy of armored vehicles slowly rolls into the British Concession. Their heavy tracks crush the cobblestones, emitting a deep rumble. Behind the vehicles, fully armed grenadiers march in formation, steel helmets, rifles, and machine guns flashing coldly under the streetlights.

"Halt! Stop!" a British sentry raises his rifle and shouts with a trembling voice, "You may not go any further!"

The armored vehicle convoy stops before the roadblock. Commander Ke Laosi sticks his head out of the command vehicle, looking down at the British soldiers. The Vickers machine gun behind the roadblock has already taken aim, but Ke Laosi's face shows no hint of fear.

A British Captain strides forward: "This is the British Concession; you have no authority..."

"Silence," Ke Laosi cuts coldly, "From now on, this falls under the Fourth Bureau's jurisdiction. You have two choices: lay down your weapons and surrender, or die."

"You!" the British Captain's face reddens, "You are openly provoking the British Empire! I warn you..."

Ke Laosi says nothing further. He simply waves his hand.

"Open fire."

Before the words finish, the machine gun on the armored vehicle roars. A dense hail of fire sweeps the roadblock, tearing the sandbags apart. The British Captain still speaking doesn't even have time to scream before he is reduced to a sieve.

"Fire!" the British Sergeant shouts hoarsely.

The Vickers machine gun begins to return fire, but its bullets strike the armored vehicle, sparking only a spray of sparks. The vehicle's gunner keeps the fire firmly on the machine‑gun position, and soon all the British soldiers operating the machine gun are killed.

"Advance forward!" Ke Laosi orders.

The armored vehicle rolls over the roadblock, its tracks crushing the planks and sandbags into fragments. The grenadiers behind quickly deploy, sweeping fire at the buildings on both sides. The British snipers hiding behind windows have no time to fire before the dense hail forces them to cower and flee.

The British 18‑pound Field Artillery begins to roar, but their gunners clearly lack combat experience. The shells either miss or fall short, unable to halt the armored vehicle's advance.

"Is this the military might the British brag about?" Ke Laosi sneers, "It's nothing but a ragtag mob."

The armored vehicle continues forward, and wherever it goes the British defensive line collapses.

The battle erupts in an instant, and the entire British Concession is engulfed in fire and smoke.

The armored vehicle's tracks crush the cobblestones, emitting a muffled rumble. Its mounted machine gun spews fire, and a dense hail of bullets pours down like a downpour. The hastily erected British defensive line cannot withstand this firepower; the sandbags are shredded, and the wooden roadblocks are reduced to fragments.

"Vehicle 3, cover the right flank!" Ke Laosi's command is transmitted via radio, "1st Grenadier Company, clear the buildings on both sides!"

The soldiers move with machine‑like precision. They employ a three‑three tactic: one squad provides fire suppression, one advances rapidly, and one offers guard cover. Each tactical unit is equipped with a light machine gun, delivering fire density far beyond the British expectations.

"Bang!" a huge blast as a Hand Grenade flies accurately into the British machine‑gun position. In the explosion, the prized Vickers heavy machine gun and its operator are reduced to fragments.

From the buildings on either side of the street, short bursts of gunfire and screams echo intermittently. Those are grenadiers clearing stubborn British troops. Their movements are swift and precise, leaving no room in any room, their tactics textbook‑level.

"Boom!" the British 18‑pound Field Artillery finally finds its range. A shell explodes on the street but fails to inflict real damage on the armored vehicle. Before they can load a second round, the vehicle's machine gun clears the entire gun position.

"These British blokes can't even fire their artillery," Ke Laosi taunts over the radio, "With such skill they still dare to flaunt themselves in Shen City?"

A British unit attempts a flank counter‑attack, but grenadiers are already lying in ambush. A dense automatic rifle fire instantly envelops them, and a dozen British soldiers fall into a pool of blood without even a chance to return fire.

The whole street reverberates with gunfire, explosions, and the rumble of tracks. Amid the smoke, occasional British screams and pleas for mercy are heard. Yet the 7th Armored Grenade Troop's advance shows no pause; they move like a precise war machine, grinding every obstacle into dust.

"Sir," Ke Laosi reports to Lin Yu, "The British main defensive line has been breached; we expect to control the entire Works Bureau area within twenty minutes."