Chapter 38: No Match for a Single Blow

Second Company, attention, prepare to encircle from the right flank! Feng An ordered through the military radio, "When the enemy retreats, cut off their retreat!"

On the street, under mortar and machine‑gun fire, the military police fell into chaos. But this is only the beginning.

Snipers, attention, prioritize killing officers and machine‑gunners! Feng An continued his deployment, "Heavy machine‑gun fire points, suppress them in place!"

A dozen or so hand‑picked snipers, all veterans forged on the East Front, were positioned on various high grounds, shooting down key targets within the military police from above.

Bang!

An Eastern officer who was organizing a counterattack fell to the ground with a crack; a 7.92 mm steel‑core round pierced his temple.

Bang! Bang!

Two crisp gunshots rang out, and two soldiers attempting to set up a heavy machine gun were blown off their heads. Precise fire instantly destroyed the newly established military‑police fire point.

Damn! Their shooting is too accurate! Shanben Zhong hid behind an overturned truck, watching his subordinates fall one after another.

But worse was the dense fire net of the MG42 machine gun. The terrifying rattle of the machine echoed across the sky, turning the street into a death zone.

Clack! Clack! Clack!

A squad trying to cross the street was instantly turned into a sieve. 7.92 mm rounds carved bowl‑sized wounds in flesh and blood. Dozens fell into the pool of blood before they could even scream.

Baka! What kind of weapon is this?! Shanben Zhong had never seen such terrifying firepower.

At that moment, the assault team of the Second Company launched from the right flank.

Action! the company commander ordered.

Assault troops equipped with MP40 submachine guns burst from the buildings, unleashing close‑range sweeps on the panicked military police. The 9 mm ball bullets were devastating at short range.

Clack! Clack! Clack!

Amid the rapid fire, squads of military police fell into the bloodshed. Their Model 30 rifles were no match in such close‑quarters combat.

Bad! The right flank is being encircled! Shanben Zhong's face turned pale, "Third squad, immediately…"

Before the words finished, another volley of mortars roared in. Six 81 mm mortars fired simultaneously, their shells exploding among the retreating troops.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The successive explosions riddled the street with craters. A squad trying to form a defense was blown to pieces, limbs scattering. A mournful scream rose from the thick smoke.

Retreat! Quick retreat! Shanben Zhong shouted hoarsely.

But it was already too late. Feng An had long anticipated their withdrawal in this direction.

Third Company, commence action! he ordered over the radio.

The Third Company, hidden on the left flank, suddenly launched an attack. These veterans armed with Mauser 98K Rifles displayed gunmanship honed in trench warfare, extremely precise.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The rapid rifle fire rang out. Eastern military police fell one after another; their Model 30 rifles could not match the German weapons in range or accuracy.

We're surrounded! someone shouted in despair.

At this point the military police were in total chaos. Ahead, the First Company's heavy‑machine‑gun fire blocked them; to the right, the Second Company's assault troops pressed forward; to the left, the Third Company's precise fire; the rear was covered by mortar fire.

Company commander! the communications soldier reported, "The enemy has been split into three groups, casualties exceed three hundred!"

Feng An nodded, "Relay my order, commence the general assault!"

The First Battalion's attack surged forward like a tide. Three infantry companies coordinated seamlessly, forming a perfect encirclement.

The MG42 machine gun fire grew even denser, bullets pouring down like rain. The Second Company's assault troops seized the chance to push another fifty meters forward, further fracturing the Eastern formation.

Boom! Boom!

The mortars continued to pound the enemy's last point of resistance. One shell struck a bunker, blowing the seven or eight military police inside to pieces.

Shanben Zhong watched his troops collapse under German fire and finally broke down.

Surrender! We surrender! desperate cries rose repeatedly.

But the First Battalion kept advancing as planned. Feng An intended to give these Eastern troops an unforgettable lesson.

Bang!

A sniper rifle bullet struck Shanben Zhong's thigh, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Baka! He tried to struggle, reaching for the revolver at his waist, only to find himself already surrounded by the Second Company's assault troops.

An MP40 was pressed against his forehead.

Shanben Zhong resignedly lowered his revolver. He finally understood how utterly vulnerable his thousand‑strong military police were against true elite forces.

The street was littered with Model 30 rifles and steel helmets, the air thick with smoke and the scent of blood. Those once‑arrogant Eastern military police now either lay in the blood or knelt to surrender.

This battle not only shattered the Eastern troops' swagger, but also, with tangible results, told everyone: within the Fourth Bureau lies a terrifying force!

The captured Shanben Zhong slumped on the ground, watching the well‑equipped, well‑trained First Battalion soldiers, finally grasping what a real army is.

The setting sun faded as the smoke on Xiafei Road gradually cleared.

Feng An stood in the makeshift command post, receiving casualty reports from each company. As an old‑school Prussian officer, he was accustomed to meticulously recording every detail of each battle.

"Report, Company commander!" the First Company commander stood at attention and saluted, "First Company combat losses: four lightly wounded, all shrapnel grazes, no impact on combat effectiveness. Captured enemy Model 30 rifles: 167, revolvers: 12, machine guns: 2, and over 3,200 rounds of assorted ammunition."

"Second Company report: five lightly wounded, all minor injuries from street fighting. Captured rifles: 143, revolvers: 9, and over 2,800 rounds of ammunition."

"Third Company report: three lightly wounded, no serious injuries. Captured rifles: 156, revolvers: 11, and over 2,600 rounds of ammunition."

"Heavy Weapons Company reports zero casualties. The 81 mm mortars expended 97 shells, MG42 machine gun ammunition consumption approximately ___ rounds."

Feng An carefully noted the casualty report, his brow slightly furrowed, "Enemy specific casualties?"

"Report, Company commander!" the intelligence staff opened the log, "After tallying: enemy dead 427, seriously wounded 312, of whom 80 are expected not to survive tonight. Lightly wounded 156, surrendered 105, including their commander Major Shanben Zhong."

"Our forces, at the cost of twelve lightly wounded, completely annihilated a thousand‑strong military police unit," the staff summarized, his tone brimming with unmistakable pride.

Feng An nodded. This battle fully demonstrated the tactical and firepower superiority of the German‑style army. The enemy's casualty figures would chill any opponent.

"Sort and categorize the captured weapons," he ordered, "Send the wounded to the hospital, and keep the prisoners under strict guard."

"Yes!"

Watching his busy subordinates, Feng An recalled the scenes of the Somme battlefield years ago. Clearly, this Eastern military police unit's combat power was far inferior to that of the Allied Forces of that era.

"Is this the regular army they take pride in?" he mutters to himself, "How disappointing."