Chapter 91: Thoroughly Shattered

The armored units began tightening the encirclement, but they were not in a hurry to strike down.

"Drive these rats to the open ground ahead," the tank commander ordered, "let them see what despair is."

Leopard Tanks split into two wings, continuously sweeping with machine guns, forcing the fleeing troops toward the designated point. Tiger Tanks held the rear, their main guns intermittently bombarding scattered small units.

"Baka! Never retreat, even if death!" a Japanese officer drew his sword, leading a dozen soldiers in a charge toward the nearest armored personnel carrier.

The MG42 machine gun opened fire instantly. A hail of bullets shredded the charging soldiers, their blood glaring under the moonlight. Yet the soldiers behind kept screaming and surged forward until the last one fell.

"These lunatics," the gunner spat, "they haven't even fired the cannon, and using the machine gun to kill them feels like a waste of ammo."

More Japanese soldiers began to imitate the suicidal charge. They discarded their rifles, drew their command swords, and surged in groups toward the armored units. The result was the same—reduced to a sieve by machine‑gun fire.

"It seems they've truly broken down," an armored soldier said, "they've lost even the most basic military discipline."

Indeed, these Japanese soldiers, usually renowned for strict discipline, were now completely deranged. Some clutched Hand Grenades and tried to crawl under tanks, others smashed armor plates with rifle stocks, and some even bit the tracks with their teeth.

But it was all futile. The modern armored units were like a beast toying with ants, watching these reckless assaults and not even bothering to fire back.

Finally, the remaining fleeing troops were driven to the designated spot. It was an open field under moonlight, surrounded by the barrels of the armored units.

"Look at them," the tank commander sneered, "this is what they call the elite Japanese army, unable to form even a decent formation."

The once fearsome Ninth Division now resembled a flock of startled birds, huddled on the open field, lacking the courage even to glance at the armored units.

And the armored units simply watched them, savoring the thrill of prey trembling in fear...

Lin Yu stood on the command post, his telescope trembling slightly.

Although he came from the modern era, how many people from that peaceful age have truly seen war? Even the most spectacular war scenes in movies can't compare to this blood‑soaked reality before his eyes.

The roar of the rocket artillery continued, each salvo lighting up half the sky. In the orange‑red blaze, he could clearly see the Japanese soldiers being blown skyward, hearing their harrowing screams.

"Is this modern warfare..." Lin Yu muttered to himself.

In his memory, the German armored units of World II swept across Europe in this manner. Those were only images from books and documentaries, but now he witnessed the crushing power of technological disparity firsthand.

When the Tiger Tank rolled over the ruins, the sixty‑ton steel beast made the ground tremble. The white‑blade charges that look majestic on film seemed utterly laughable before modern firepower.

When a squad of Japanese officers led a charge, Lin Yu instinctively held his breath. Yet the MG42 machine gun took less than three seconds to turn those fearless warriors into a sieve. Blood glinted sharply under the moon, churning his stomach.

"This isn't war, it's slaughter..." Lin Yu clenched his fists.

But he quickly dismissed that notion. No, this is the essence of war. When the tech tree widens the gap, so‑called courage and sacrifice are futile before a torrent of steel.

The armored units, like a cat toying with mice, gradually herded the fleeing troops onto the open field. Through his telescope, Lin Yu could see the Japanese soldiers' expressions—fear, despair, bewilderment. These once‑arrogant soldiers now resembled beasts trapped in a cage, completely bereft of the will to resist.

"This is our power..." Lin Yu inhaled deeply.

He suddenly grasped what "technological disparity crushing" meant. In this era, a Ghost Master wielding future tech is like a celestial soldier descending onto an ancient battlefield, easily rewriting the course of war.

Lin Yu quickly adjusted his mindset.

He recalled the harrowing accounts in history textbooks, the countless crimes Japanese committed on this land. These wolf‑hearted aggressors dared to covet the great Great Dry.

"They deserve their punishment," Lin Yu clenched his fists.

In this timeline, the Japanese ambition swelled beyond history. They not only occupied Chaoxian Bandao, but also aimed to annex all of Dongya. The Ninth Division was the vanguard of their invasion of Great Dry.

"Sir," Shiteyin said as he approached Lin Yu, "the battle is decided; shall we go meet that overconfident Commander of the 9th Division?"

Lin Yu nodded: "Let's go see, let them witness what true power is."

An Armored command vehicle rolled in slowly. It was a modified Sd. Kfz. 251, fitted inside with radio gear and a simple conference table, serving as a mobile command post for frontline control.

Lin Yu and Shiteyin boarded the armored vehicle. Through a vision port in the armor plate, he could see the outside scene clearly.

Under the moon, the remnants of the Ninth Division huddled on the open field like a pack of stray dogs. The Japanese officers who usually strutted now lacked even the courage to lift their heads.

The Armored command vehicle rolled over craters and ruins, its tracks' rumble making the fleeing troops shiver. Around it, Tiger Tanks and Leopard Tanks stared hungrily, their barrels glinting coldly in the moonlight.

"Look at them now," Shiteyin sneered, "do you remember how arrogant they were when they arrived?"

Lin Yu nodded. Just days earlier, the Ninth Division had boasted of "sweeping Shen City" and making Great Dry "feel His Majesty the Emperor's majesty."

But now, that so‑called "elite Japanese army" could not mount any decent resistance before the Ghost Master.

"We should let them see what a true iron‑blooded army is," Lin Yu squinted, looking at the lone figure ahead—Xiaoye Zuozuo, the once overconfident Commander of the 9th Division.

The Armored command vehicle pressed on, crushing battlefield wreckage, heading toward the end of this one‑sided slaughter...

Lin Yu stepped down from the Armored command vehicle, his leather boots landing on the crater‑strewn ground.

In the moonlight, Commander Xiaoye Zuozuo knelt on the ground, his uniform torn, his face smeared with blood.

The face that usually wore arrogance now resembled that of a stray dog.

Lin Yu approached, looking down at the Japanese soldier. The surrounding armored units stared hungrily, their barrels flashing coldly in the moonlight.

"It's you," Lin Yu sneered, "who boasted of leading the Ninth Division into Shen City to avenge your expatriates?"

Xiaoye Zuozuo jerked his head up, a flash of madness flickering in his eyes.

"Baka! You Chinaman!" he roared hoarsely, "you attack us with such despicable weapons... this is not the Bushido spirit! This is not true war!"

Lin Yu squinted, watching the still‑shouting Japanese man. Even at this point, they remained so arrogant.

"Did you think this was a sparring match on a training ground?" Lin Yu said coldly, "this is war, and you have lost."

"Baka!" Xiaoye Zuozuo suddenly lunged, drawing a short sword from his boot and charging at Lin Yu, "in loyalty to His Majesty the Emperor!"

But before he could reach Lin Yu, a gunshot rang, halting his motion...