Chapter 158: The Regiment

Regiment Commander Watanabe Masao of the 56th Regiment, after being blown unconscious, briefly regained consciousness once, but unfortunately he also contracted malignant malaria. His body fluctuated between hot and cold, and he fell into a deep coma again, in a half‑asleep, half‑awake, threadlike state.

His first words upon waking were only a halting admonition to Jin Gang Zong Si Lang: "Take… take the 56th Regiment… out of this… damned place…"

Now the fate of the entire regiment rests on Jin Gang Zong Si Lang's shoulders.

"Regiment Commander, Front scouts report they have found a village in Myanmar," the adjutant ran over to report.

A cruel glint flashed in Jin Gang Zong Si Lang's murky eyes; he nodded and whispered, "Enter the village quietly, no shooting. First send a squad to control everyone."

He needed to restore the morale of Imperial Japan's soldiers, even by the most primitive means.

Any village they could see was a fallen prey in the eyes of the Japanese Army. When they came, they had passed through here before and looted it, focusing only on food and livestock. This time, with no food left, Jin Gang Zong Si Lang thought of an even more cruel, more bestial method.

That was people.

Indeed, he instructed his trusted officer to deal with everyone in that village.

The village instantly became a human furnace.

The men were roughly herded together and stabbed to death with bayonets one by one. The women became tools for the Japanese Army to vent their bestial lust. In the end they were also stabbed alive with bayonets, their flesh cut off and thrown into scalding hot water.

The most outrageous acts were still to come.

Those innocent children were grabbed by the leg by Japanese soldiers and thrown into a boiling iron cauldron!

"Ah!"

Shrieks of gut‑wrenching agony were instantly drowned by the sound of a downpour. The children struggled in the boiling water, painfully scalded to death.

The Japanese troops that followed smelled the meat drifting from the pot; their eyes reddened, and regardless of what meat it was, they surged forward with broken bowls like starving wolves, devouring greedily.

They even chewed up the bones and swallowed them.

Thus one can see how far the Japanese Army's cruelty has descended. It is utterly inhuman, something no human could commit, but a pack of beasts wearing human skin.

To prevent the Expeditionary Force's pursuit, after the troops "feasted" once and regained a bit of strength, Jin Gang Zong Si Lang issued a cold command: leave some severely wounded in the village.

He also left them a certain amount of ammunition and hand grenades, so they could use the houses for cover and ambush any pursuing Expeditionary Force.

The houses in northern Myanmar were more like bamboo huts, entirely made of bamboo.

The main force conducts a strategic retreat, and sometimes "letting go" is crucial. Sacrificing small detachments, even those already deemed valueless wounded, to preserve the living strength of the main force.

Even so, Jin Gang Zong Si Lang's heart ached as if cut by a knife. The number of people unable to retreat with the force had already exceeded three hundred, and the figure kept rising as disease spread.

"May the Emperor protect us," Jin Gang Zong Si Lang looked up at the night sky and whispered silently.

Today is April 29.

This date holds great significance for the Japanese, as it is the Ten‑Long Festival, the birthday of Emperor Showa.

Originally, Watanabe Masao was ambitiously preparing to capture Lashu before April 29 as a longevity gift to the Emperor. If Lashu fell, it would mean all of Myanmar was in Japanese hands.

But now? The 56th Regiment has fallen to this state, fleeing like a bereaved dog. Moreover, according to decoded telegrams from intelligence, the name of an Independent Regiment repeatedly appears, yet Jin Gang Zong Si Lang does not understand why a Lashu defended by an Independent Regiment would have 105mm howitzers and aircraft.

Victory was within sight, yet ultimately it was lost by a single basketful.

Jin Gang Zong Si Lang dared not imagine how many would remain of the 56th Regiment after retreating all the way back to Tonggu.

The terrain of northern Myanmar is extremely treacherous. If the Expeditionary Force resists stubbornly, the Japanese Army, lacking two hundred thousand troops, cannot hope to breach Yunnan's interior. Here one can only use a human wave tactic, or a human‑life tactic, filling it in to carve a path.

In winding maneuvers, the first consideration is whether the jungle will swallow your entire force!

…

Jiang Anguo was also feeling unwell here.

Only on the first day of pursuit did Non‑combat Casualties occur.

A warrior scouting ahead suddenly let out a horrendous scream, clutching his ankle and collapsing. A wrist‑thick poisonous snake slithered into the grass and vanished in an instant.

"It's a cobra! Quick!"

Although this time Jiang Anguo brought a full Medical Team and luckily had a system on hand, the moment he discovered it he directly exchanged for the dedicated anti‑snake venom serum and injected the poisoned soldier, which should save his life.

Even so, this meant the soldier temporarily lost combat ability and might suffer aftereffects.

And this soldier's injury meant that on the battlefield, Four Regiments needed to assign at least one or two soldiers to stay with him, thereby directly losing three combatants. This is not only a loss of manpower but also a blow to morale.

"Meng Fanle, spread this Realgar! Rain or not, first lay a line of it around the camp and along the marching route, then deal with the snake problem later."

Jiang Anguo watched the rain curtain, brow furrowed. In such heavy rain, spreading Realgar isn't very effective; the rain quickly washes the powder away. But it's better than nothing, at least offering a slight psychological comfort.

We hadn't even truly entered the deep jungle, merely pursuing along the small road the Japanese had taken, and such severe circumstances already arose. Jiang Anguo could not imagine what hellish trials the Expeditionary Force endured on Wild Man Mountain to survive.

That isn't a march; it's a death march.

The night's heavy rain finally, oddly, ceased around four o'clock in the early morning of the second day.

It was as if the heavens' gate suddenly shut; the rain stopped abruptly. Only the sound of leaves dripping remained in the jungle.

Jiang Anguo actually hadn't slept much; he had been waiting for this moment.

He stepped out of the Tent, looked up at the sky. The dark clouds dispersed, revealing a brilliant star‑river, and a few meteors streaked across.

"Tomorrow will be fine weather," Jiang Anguo's mouth curled into a cold arc.

Without pausing a moment, he rushed into the command post and loudly ordered the communications soldier guarding the radio:

"Immediately contact the air squadron Song Yunfei! Tell him to seize this fleeting weather window! Take off at once! Conduct indiscriminate bombing of the Japanese 56th Regiment's position, and also scout the Japanese's movement routes!"

When the fighter aircraft can lift off, the time to hunt arrives.