Chapter 169: No One Can Take Him Away Alive

The telegraph operator clutched the thin telegram paper tightly in his hand, rushed into the command post, his voice loud: "Regiment Commander! Front Li Defa support squad urgent telegram!"

Jiang Anguo snatched the telegram in one hand, his eyes like torches, quickly scanning every character on it.

The signatory was not Jiang Fei, but Li Defa, who is in charge of logistical support.

This detail made Jiang Anguo's heart jump suddenly.

Logically, in an emergency, Jiang Fei as the Frontline Commander should report immediately, but now the report comes from Li Defa, and the wording of the telegram is urgent, showing the battle situation is critical.

Jiang Anguo's mind raced; after thinking for only a second, the situation became clear in his head.

Jiang Fei's Special Forces Unit of fifty‑two men, each a one‑man‑ten, possessed extremely strong individual combat ability and battlefield mobility.

If they only met a small enemy force, they would have slipped away like eels long ago, never getting tangled.

Even when confronting a large Japanese Army force, in the northern Burma jungle, simply hiding in the jungle allows a safe retreat, waiting for their own main force.

The fact that Jiang Fei could not send a telegram and even needed support indicates they encountered a large main force of the Japanese Army, the battle is extremely stalemated, and something must be restraining Jiang Fei's Special Forces Unit's actions to the point of being unable to split forces.

"Everyone, check weapons and gear! Run forward! Support the Special Forces Unit!"

Jiang Anguo suddenly lifted his head and shouted loudly at the thousand‑plus Independent Regiment soldiers lined up behind him.

His voice pierced the downpour.

After speaking, he did not hesitate and ripped off his military raincoat in one go.

At this moment, the raincoat was no longer a protective shield but a burden.

The soaked raincoat hung heavily on his body, not only adding weight but also rubbing against him while running, severely hindering limb extension and slowing the march.

Even if the outside is a torrential downpour, even if the rain stings the face, it is still better than being caught by the enemy.

Moreover, Jiang Anguo is now the pursuing side.

As the Regiment Commander moved, the troops saw Jiang Anguo's resolute silhouette and copied him. Over a thousand soldiers reached out, tore off their raincoats, and flung them violently onto the mud.

Wham—

Almost at the same moment, the heavy rain drenched each person without hindrance.

The icy rain poured in through the collar, instantly soaking the uniform; the clothes clung tightly, the bone‑chilling wet cold piercing straight to the marrow.

But at this moment, no one cared about that; the warriors' eyes became fiercer than ever, because they knew every second of delay could mean a brother's death.

Jiang Fei, you must hold the line for me!

Jiang Anguo muttered frantically in his mind, his strides growing larger and faster.

He turned, snatched the sniper rifle from Xiao Si's hand, slung it on his back, and then sprinted toward Jiang Fei's position.

Mud splashed in all directions, water droplets flew.

Jiang Anguo charged at the front, and behind him, over a thousand elite soldiers of the Independent Regiment followed closely, a massive iron stream sweeping forward under the pounding rain.

The general's bravery becomes the soldiers' courage; soldiers follow the general's daring.

With such a Regiment Commander, there is no war they cannot win!

Jiang Fei stared intently at Watanabe Masao, who was bound with thick ropes and thrown into the corner of the Trench, silently calculating.

He knew clearly that this unconscious old Little Devil was the lifeline of the entire 56th Division, also the sole reason for this Japanese Army's frenzied assault. Logically, he could drag Watanabe Masao to the front line and use him as a human shield.

But he dared not risk it.

The torrential rain and chaotic battlefield, stray bullets flying everywhere; no one could guarantee that under the Japanese Army's reckless onslaught, a stray bullet wouldn't happen to hit this old Little Devil.

If this old Little Devil dies, although it could cause the Japanese Army to collapse, it would also lose the last deterrent chip; the enemy might become enraged and flatten the area with a Grenade Launcher.

Jiang Fei subconsciously reached to his abdomen; the warm blood made his heart sink. The wound was deep, and the dizziness from blood loss came in waves; it seemed today he would indeed meet his end here.

But he clenched his teeth, endured the searing pain, forced his body to stay upright, and looked around at the surrounding brothers, also covered in mud and blood, their eyes still resolute.

"Brothers, it's me Jiang Fei who has let you down, bringing everyone into this predicament," Jiang Fei inhaled deeply, his voice hoarse yet resolute, "But today, even if we die, I'll still drag a few Little Devils as a cushion!"

"Company Commander, what's with the defeatist talk!" the sniper Liu Xuan beside him pulled the bolt, spat blood‑stained saliva, "Thinking it's that easy to die? Even if we die, we still have to drag two Little Devils as a cushion!"

"Ha ha, two isn't enough?" another soldier, while loading the Magazine into the machine gun, laughed loudly, "I need at least ten!"

"Not enough, not enough! In this kind of opportunity, each of us should keep at least twenty!"

Jiang Fei, hearing his brothers' bold words, couldn't help bursting into laughter. At that moment, life and death were cast aside. He shouted, "Ha ha, good! We have Watanabe Masao, that old Little Devil, as a cushion; this round isn't a loss! Since the Little Devils dare not bomb us, we'll have fun with these bastards!"

In the corner of the Trench, the guard over Watanabe Masao, Yan Zicheng, and two other soldiers, like feral wolves protecting their prey, stared rigidly at the direction of the Japanese Army's advance, while their Mauser 98k sniper rifles continuously fired at the Little Devils, precisely taking down every enemy trying to approach.

Unnoticed, the sky had already begun to lighten.

Fortunately, the heavens were favorable; the downpour continued unabated, the heavy curtain of rain severely obstructed visibility and also blurred the Expeditionary Force soldiers' observation, preventing the Japanese Army from organizing effective long‑range sniping.

At that moment, in the mud just ten meters from the position, an odd sound suddenly echoed.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The crisp, rapid pistol fire rang out. It turned out a few Japanese soldiers, using corpses and grass as cover, had slipped to within ten meters of Jiang Fei's position, preparing a surprise assault to retake their division commander.

Fortunately, discovering them early, Jiang Fei reacted instantly, tossed aside the rifle with an empty Magazine, drew the P38 Pistol at his waist, and unleashed a furious barrage at the moving silhouettes in the grass.

At such close range, the pistol's response speed far outmatched the cumbersome rifle.

Several Little Devils hadn't even managed to pull the pin on a Hand Grenade before being riddled into a sieve.

In the distant woods, Japanese Army 146th Regiment commander Jin Gang Zong Si Lang watched his assault team falter again, stamping his foot in anger. He had originally planned to dispatch a small elite force, using the rainy night as cover to silently approach the Expeditionary Force's position and rescue the division commander.

Obviously, that ingenious plan fell through.

Jin Gang Zong Si Lang sent the Japanese Army's most elite soldiers, while standing before him was Jiang Anguo's most elite Special Forces Unit.

It was like a sharp dagger striking a hard steel plate.

If Jiang Fei's unit merely trailed the Little Devils' rear, using the jungle terrain for guerrilla raids and ambushes, gradually wearing them down, given the individual quality of these fifty‑two men, even eliminating hundreds or thousands of Little Devils would be no problem.

But now, the situation has completely changed.

Both sides have already torn the truce, leaving no chance for ambushes; it is a head‑on trench battle.

Facing Jin Gang Zong Si Lang was a deadlock: if the Japanese Army won, they might recapture Watanabe Masao, but under such dense fire that would be a corpse, never a living man, and Jiang Fei would not agree.

If Jiang Fei loses, that sole prize, Watanabe Masao, must die! No one takes him away alive!