Chapter 381: Close It

Six P‑38 Lightning fighters tore through the deep blue sky, their silver wings glittering under the blazing sun.

William pulled the control stick, lowered the nose, his eyes like a hawk fixed on Zhijiang North Gate. There, the Japanese Army Third Battalion was hastily erecting makeshift fortifications, stacking sandbags, and just setting up a Type 92 heavy machine gun.

Zhijiang North Gate was also the direction of the 448th Regiment's attack.

Meanwhile, the First Battalion of the whole regiment advanced on Zhijiang West Gate.

"Ghost Squad One to Three," he said calmly, broadcasting over the radio to the formation, "attack the Japanese ground positions, prioritize destroying fire‑points, command posts, and assembled infantry. Free hunting, maintain altitude, watch friendly positions."

"Understood, Captain!"

"Copy that, Captain!"

Three P‑38s dove first, their noses roaring with four. 50‑caliber Browning machine guns.

Clack‑clack‑clack—!

Bullets lashed the ground like steel whips, shredding the flesh of Japanese soldiers just emerging from the trench. A Type 92 heavy machine gun and its gunner were blown to pieces, the barrel twisting and soaring into the air.

"Team Two, drop bombs!" William ordered.

In the second wave, two P‑38s skimmed past the city walls, their belly doors opening as four 200‑pound high‑explosive fragmentation bombs screamed downward.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The explosions merged into a sheet, blasting a huge breach in the North Gate earthen wall, sending smoke and dust skyward. The Japanese squad hidden behind it vanished instantly, limbs and arms hanging from the broken eaves.

On the ground, at the 448th Regiment's position, the soldiers shouted in unison, "Well done! Long live the Ghost Battalion!"

Regiment Commander Xie Boluan of the 448th Regiment grabbed the field telephone, "All Battalion Commanders! The North Gate fire‑point has been cleared, request charge!"

The whole regiment stood on the high slope behind the West Gate, raising a binocular to survey the results, a slight smile on his lips, "Tell the 448th Regiment not to rush; wait until William's Ghost Battalion finishes its barrage, then launch the attack. No hurry—none of those devils will escape."

At that moment, the last P‑38 skimmed low over the center of Zhijiang city.

Pilot Chen Jie caught sight of a Japanese officer waving a sword on a civilian house roof, apparently a command node.

"Target acquired, finish him," he nudged the stick lightly.

Clack‑clack‑clack—!

A burst of precise fire sent the rooftop officer crashing down, his sword falling into the courtyard.

Within the city, the already wavering Japanese forces collapsed completely.

Someone dropped their weapon and slipped into a cellar.

Someone changed into civilian clothes and blended into the crowd.

The Little Devils are also human; humans get scared.

Bushido Spirit is built on a mysterious confidence; once faced with a stronger opponent, that spirit becomes a death sentence.

More people curled up, murmuring, "Mother..."

Perhaps people only call out their relatives' names in utter desperation.

Xiao Lin Wufu crouched behind a broken wall, his face covered in ash and dust, watching the silver eagle circling the sky, and finally understood:

The Imperial Japanese Army, having lost air superiority, was like a lamb awaiting slaughter!

With no ground to defend and no reinforcements, holding out would turn Zhijiang into his grave.

At that moment, William pulled up the nose and gave the battlefield one last sweep before returning to base.

Xie Boluan saw the Lightning aircraft rocking its wings left and right, a clear signal that ground troops could charge.

"Charge," Regiment Commander Xie Boluan ordered the final attack.

The Sichuan soldiers of the 448th Regiment surged forward like a tide, charging toward Zhijiang.

Formerly fearful of the enemy, they now seemed to wish for extra legs just to run ahead and claim glory.

Chaos aside, under the guidance of First Battalion officers these past days, the 448th soldiers have learned how to use their firepower advantage to give the charging troops sufficient cover.

The 448th Regiment's machine gunners let their MG42 General Machine Guns roar.

The MG42 General Machine Gun shredded the air like a chainsaw, its dense hail of bullets capable of tearing people to pieces; immediately after came a massive volley of Czech light machine guns, forming an impenetrable crossfire network.

A ground controller's voice crackled over the radio, "Ghost Battalion, mission accomplished. Zhijiang is now in our grasp."

He replied softly, "Copy. The sky is clear."

The engine's roar faded, leaving only scorched earth, smoke, and a lone force awaiting annihilation.

Smoke hung thick, and gunfire between the ruined walls grew faint.

Xiao Lin Wufu curled up in a half‑collapsed rice‑store cellar, his sword lying across his knees, his hands trembling so he could not grip it. He heard the Sichuan troops shouting outside, "Surrender your weapons, no killing! Fellow countrymen, come out!"

"Fellow countrymen?" he forced a bitter smile.

These Sichuan "China soldiers" used such a friendly term for the invaders.

Even more ironic, some of his own soldiers actually stepped forward, hands raised, crying, "Don't fire!"

"The Empire... is over," he muttered.

Suddenly, a violent thud rang overhead!

"Boom!"

A wooden beam snapped, and rubble cascaded down.

Several gray‑blue figures leapt into the cellar like ferocious tigers!

"Don't move! Raise your hands!" a Sichuan squad leader brandished an MP40 submachine gun, the barrel aimed at Xiao Lin's forehead. His face was smeared with blood, his eyes sharp as knives.

Xiao Lin snatched up his sword, roaring as he lunged, "Long live the Emperor—!"

"Bang!"

The squad leader pulled the trigger without hesitation.

The bullet pierced Xiao Lin's right shoulder, pinning him hard to the wall.

The sword slipped from his hand, striking the floor with a crisp, mournful clang.

"Still trying to act tough?" another soldier stepped forward, kicked the sword away, swiftly binding his hands behind him, "I recognize you! The knife‑wielding devil officer at Zhijiang North Gate!"

Xiao Lin struggled to lift his head, his face contorted viciously, and saw that the arm patches of these soldiers bore the bold inscription "448th Regiment". It was the Sichuan Army, which in a single day had rushed from Baiyang Town to here, clamping their throats like iron tongs.

The Tertiary Battalion originally had a chance to withdraw back to Jingzhou.

"Take him!" the Squad Leader ordered.

Two soldiers hoisted Xiao Lin and dragged him out of the cellar.

The sunlight was blinding; he squinted and saw the streets already studded with blue‑sky white‑sun flags.

The surviving Japanese Army soldiers hung their heads and knelt, their weapons being collected one by one by the Sichuan Army.

Some whispered sobs, others stared dumb as wooden chickens.

As he passed a corpse, Xiao Lin recognized it as his Messenger, the chest torn open by shrapnel, still clutching an unsent letter home.

"Will you… kill me?" he asked in halting Chinese.

The Squad Leader glanced at him and sneered, "Kill you? How much are you worth? Keep you for intelligence, for supplies, for our brothers' lives!"

Xiao Lin trembled all over, mortified and furious to the brink.

The Bushido fantasy of "jade shattering" crumbled before the cold logic of reality, leaving not even a fragment.

He was escorted to the temporary command post.

Quanzong and Xie Boluan were planning the next move in front of a map; when they saw him being brought in, Quanzong gave a casual glance, "Xiao Lin Wufu? Tertiary Battalion commander of the 232nd Regiment?"

Xiao Lin lowered his head and said nothing.

"Fine." Quanzong nodded, "Lock him up together with Shanben and Ji Man Guan. Let them have a good talk about what true 'fellow‑country affection' really means."

It's almost comical: the Japanese Army's 232nd Regiment had all its battalion‑level officers captured alive by Huaxia forces, and its regiment commander Tian Dao Xinfu was blown up by a 105mm howitzer.

As Xiao Lin was dragged away, he heard Quanzong say to the communications soldier behind him:

"Commander: Zhi Jiang liberated, one captured enemy battalion commander, annihilate the remnants of the 232nd Regiment."

In this battle, 529 prisoners including the Japanese Army's Tertiary Battalion commander Xiao Lin Wufu were taken; the rest of the Japanese Army were all killed by Huaxia forces.