Chapter 173: The Final Counterattack

Jiang Fei forced his breath, urging the few remaining able brothers nearby to desperately collect all the weapons and ammunition scattered around the position.

Rifles, hand grenades, even the drum of shells that hadn't been fired yet, were all piled at the edge of the trench.

They were preparing to meet the Japanese Army's final attack.

Jiang Fei subconsciously glanced toward the corner where the radio had been; now only a heap of smoking parts and charred wreckage remained.

He had intended to send a final telegram to the commander in the rear, even if just a few words, but unfortunately the radio had been completely destroyed in the recent devastating bombing.

Jiang Fei lifted his head with difficulty, peering through the rain at the direction of the Japanese Army's assembly, then laughed self‑mockingly, his voice hoarse: "This time, it was truly worth it. We captured their division commander, and this life is enough… only a shame for so many good brothers."

At that moment, noisy shouts came from ahead.

It was the Japanese Army's war‑cry before the charge, spoken in Japanese, which Jiang Fei could understand; it was filled with fanaticism and a thirst for revenge.

"Brothers, prepare to counterattack! The Little Devils are about to come up!" Jiang Fei shouted, gripping his bolt‑action rifle tightly.

He knew that retreat was now impossible. Even if they wanted to leave, their badly wounded legs and bodies would not allow it.

In fact, from the moment he captured the old Little Devil Watanabe Masao, Jiang Fei never expected to walk away unscathed. That was dictated not only by the nature of special operations, but also embodied a soldier's spirit of sacrifice.

He did not expect that the Little Devil commander Jin Gang Zong Si Lang on the other side would be so ruthless, even discarding his own division commander, intending to have them perish together with Watanabe Masao.

But on second thought, Jiang Fei felt relieved.

When the two armies clashed and captured the enemy's highest commander, for a soldier you may die on the battlefield—that is honor—but you must never be taken captive by the enemy—that is disgrace.

Moreover, it was a Japanese division commander; once captured, the entire Imperial Japanese Army's face would be utterly ruined.

"Come on! Let the Little Devils come!"

Ten minutes later, the dense gunfire and explosions abruptly ceased.

The entire position fell into a death‑like silence, broken only by the rain's roar washing the ground and the faint sound of blood seeping into the mud.

Jiang Fei collapsed in a pool of blood, his body riddled like a sieve, hit by dozens of bullets. Yet he never fell; his body still leaned against the trench, his hands gripping the heavy MG42 General Machine Gun, its barrel still pointing forward.

After the Japanese surged onto the position and found no living men, the enraged Little Devils, venting their fury, wildly sprayed the unyielding corpse, leaving countless bullet holes.

Thus, this Special Forces Unit that inflicted heavy losses on the Japanese, together with Li Defa's brave and fearless support squad, totaling eighty warriors, were all slain in a desperate battle against a Japanese force many times their size.

Not a single one survived.

The Japanese lost at least a thousand lives.

Only Yan Zicheng and another soldier, dragging the sole remaining warhorse, carried their mission target Watanabe Masao and miraculously withdrew from the battlefield, disappearing into the vast rainforest.

Jin Gang Zong Si Lang pushed aside layers of soldiers, stepping through blood‑stained water, slowly moving through the crowd toward the core of the Expeditionary Force's final held position.

When he finally steadied himself in the center of the scorched earth, plowed over repeatedly by artillery, his gaze fell on the corpse surrounded by bayonets—a Chinese officer, whose shoulder insignia slipped from his pocket, soaked in blood yet still readable as "Captain".

"This… is only a Captain?" Jin Gang Zong Si Lang muttered, his voice so low it was almost swallowed by the rain.

He looked around in disbelief.

The entire position spanned barely a hundred meters square; ruined bunkers, shattered weapons, scattered shell casings, and bodies strewn haphazardly all testified to the ferocious last‑ditch defense.

Yet even so, according to the front‑line units' compiled reports of enemy casualties, the number was under a hundred!

One hundred? Perhaps even fewer!

This force, less than a single regiment, not only slipped silently into the depths of the 56th Division's rear, but also succeeded in abducting the severely wounded, bedridden division commander Watanabe Masao!

Moreover, here they, with flesh‑and‑bone bodies, stubbornly blocked thousands of Japanese for several hours of successive assaults. Their precise fire, tenacious will, and near‑suicidal tactics crippled the Imperial elite, leaving them immobilized and suffering heavy casualties.

Jin Gang Zong Si Lang dared not tally his side's losses; he knew they would be staggering.

Just those few recent charges had already cost at least four companies, perhaps more. And all this was caused by the sparse yet exceptionally well‑equipped mysterious unit before him.

He crouched, picked up a broken barrel bearing a German inscription. Then he glanced at the still‑smoking MG42 General Machine Gun nearby; its rate of fire and ferocity were such that even the Imperial Army's most advanced Type 92 heavy machine gun could not compare.

This is not a weapon an ordinary Chinese army could possess!

The so‑called "German‑equipped division" from Chongqing had been annihilated back during the Battle of Wuhan, with clear records in the Imperial intelligence department. Yet this unit before him not only equipped every man with German‑made rifles and submachine guns, but even the MG42, which the Germans themselves had not yet mass‑fielded, was prominently present!

"Where on earth did they come from?" Jin Gang Zong Si Lang felt a chill rise. The appearance of this unit was like a dagger thrust into the retreating 56th Division's heart.

Their actions were precise, decisive, without hesitation, as if they knew the Japanese deployments intimately. Had he not seen it himself, he would never have believed a hundred‑person squad could accomplish such a earth‑shaking decapitation operation.

At that moment, the adjutant Sata Ichiro stepped forward, lowering his voice: "Regiment Commander, we have swept the entire position… and found no division commander."

"What?" Jin Gang Zong Si Lang sprang to his feet, eyes wide as if struck by lightning. He seized the adjutant's collar, voice trembling: "Say it again!"

"The division commander… is not here." Sata Ichiro lowered his head, his tone heavy: "The Chinese… must have moved him beforehand."

In an instant, Jin Gang Zong Si Lang felt as if he had fallen into an ice cavern.

It turned out the enemy had long planned it! They never intended to hold the ground to the end; they used this squad as bait, drawing all fire to cover the real target's withdrawal. And he himself was led by this mere hundred‑person unit, watching helplessly as the division commander fell into enemy hands!

Anger, shame… a torrent of emotions surged within his chest.