This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 329.1: The Siege

Upon hearing Chu Guang, Bagro froze for a moment, his tone hesitant as he replied, "What do you mean..."

Chu Guang continued to inquire, "Most of the prisoners we've captured are from the 21st Division of the Army's Expeditionary Force, which was under the command of someone named Dillon. They claimed that they only joined the Bonechewer Clan because of their superior's order. So, were you also under Dillon's command?"

Bagro shook his head and said, "I used to belong to the 14th Division."

"I see," Chu Guang looked into his eyes and got straight to the point, "What intrigues me is how you ended up becoming a tank commander for the Fang Clan."

Seemingly lost in thought, Bagro paused for a moment before speaking, "It was probably 2 years ago. My 14th Division suffered heavy losses during the battle with the Great Rift Valley; I almost thought I was done for. Fortunately, I was very lucky enough to survive..."

"You are indeed lucky. But please get to the point," Chu Guang glanced at the bandages on Bagro and urged him to continue.

"I didn't go back to rejoin the Expeditionary Force, and I couldn't even go back. So, I went to the Bugra Free State south of the Great Rift Valley and found a job as a mechanic, barely enough to make a living there. But one day, while I was at a tavern, I happened to run into my former boss. He said he had a new job to offer me."

"Driving tanks for marauders?" Chu Guang quipped.

Bagro remained silent for a moment but eventually chose to be honest, saying, "He told me he had a friend who got hold of a batch of tanks but couldn't find skilled drivers. If I was interested in getting back into the business and training a group of professional drivers for them, they were willing to pay me a one-time reward of 50,000 Dinars. Moreover, there would be additional rewards for field missions, and there might even be a chance to go home."

Chu Guang raised an eyebrow. "So, you went to Gold Fang?"

Bagro shook his head and said helplessly, "That came later. Initially, he introduced me to a well-known local arms dealer named Fire Stone. I thought I would get a job as a training instructor and bodyguard, but unexpectedly, they bundled me with the tanks and sold us to the Bonechewer Clan."

Chu Guang joked, "So, you're a victim in this?"

"I have no intention of defending myself. Reasons like these don't really matter, do they?" Bagro said calmly. "I lost, both to you and to my own pride. Now, I'm your prisoner, that's all."

This guy certainly had a personality.

Chu Guang didn't completely believe his story, nor did he care much whether Bagro had joined marauders willingly or under duress.

However, from his words, Chu Guang did pick up 2 pieces of information that piqued his interest.

The relationship between the Bugra Free State's arms dealers and the Bonechewer Clan may not be as simple as a business transaction; the latter seemed to be supported by the former.

And...

The Army was highly likely to be involved!

Chu Guang had heard of the Bugra Free State a long time ago. It was said that in a survivor settlement near the Great Rift Valley in the north, there was a group of traveling merchants who handled loot for marauders and sold valuable goods on their behalf. However, he hadn't paid much attention to it at the time. After all, Red River Town had also conducted business with the Bonechewer Clan in the past, and such dealings were common in the wastelands.

Now, it seemed that things might not be as innocent as he had imagined.

Chu Guang made a mental note of this lead and continued to question Bagro. "One last question, what is your superior's name? What is his rank?"

Though it was two questions, Bagro still answered truthfully, "Kondra, Commander of the 14th Division of the Expeditionary Force... Probably of the same rank as Dillon."

Kondra, huh?

Chu Guang said thoughtfully, "Got it."

Bagro glanced at the recording device nearby and then at Chu Guang, hesitating as he asked, "Can I begin now?"

Turning off the projection inside his helmet visor, Chu Guang nodded. "Go ahead."

...

The next day.

Gold Fang, tormented by the New Alliance's artillery fire throughout the night, finally welcomed the morning sun amid their suffering.

The heavy rain had subsided, and the sky was clearing up.

Gold Fang had filled the streets of the southern city with barricades to block the advance of vehicles and had deployed his brigade in the half-collapsed ruins and alleys, prepared to make a last stand against the New Alliance soldiers advancing into the city.

However...

The decisive battle that Gold Fang and his subordinates had imagined did not come.

The New Alliance's forces had pushed their front line to the southern outskirts of West Continent City and had remained stationary in place. They even began digging trenches right in front of their eyes.

Gold Fang couldn't tolerate such a situation happening right on his doorstep. He immediately deployed a reserve force of about a thousand soldiers to stop them and gather intelligence on the New Alliance's intentions.

What he feared most soon occurred.

The brigade had barely left the city and hadn't even reached the New Alliance's positions when it came under fierce enemy fire.

2 quadruple anti-aircraft trucks had hidden themselves on both sides of the ruined bridge of the Southern Elevated Highway during the latter half of the night, with camouflage covers over their turrets, aimed their barrels at the northern city area.

When the group of marauders came into view, Escaping Mole didn't immediately order the attack. Instead, he allowed them to advance for a while.

It wasn't until they were about 400 meters away that the group finally noticed the unusual situation up ahead.

However, it was already too late.

Escaping Mole put down his binoculars only then and enthusiastically ordered, "Open fire, give them hell!"

2 sets of quadruple anti-aircraft autocannons opened fire simultaneously, unleashing a fierce barrage of shells. Those rapid loud cannon shots were like an ominous incantation, creating a fiery downpour in the sky.

With the overlapping firepower coverage, the brigade that had sallied forth to meet the enemy was instantly devastated, pinned down behind cover.

"Ahhhh, my leg!" a marauder missing a lower leg cried out in pain as he huddled behind a pile of rubble, clutching his knee.

At this moment, several mortar shells began falling onto their positions, worsening their plight.

The company leader by the side had bloodshot eyes, with anger and fear flickering within. Although he wished he could cut off the heads of those blue-furred rodents and use them as wine flasks, ultimately, the fear of death prevailed.

He shouted to the marauder behind him in panic, "Boss! Their firepower is too intense! Without tank protection, we won't be able to charge through!"

In other words, they had to retreat.

However, their brigade commander clearly had no intention of retreating. Gold Fang's orders had left him with no way out.

"Spread out, crawl forward! Their shells are limited; victory will be ours once we reach 200 meters!" The marauder brigade commander who was on the front lines, shouted madly, "Their mortars are targeting us; if you don't want to die, start moving!"

"Anyone who dares to retreat..."

"I'll kill him right now!"

Hearing this, almost all of the marauders' eyes were filled with despair.

In front of them were the barrels of the New Alliance, behind them were the barrels of their own people. They were caught in the middle, and both directions spelled doom.

Under the constant urging and intimidation of their brigade commander, the marauders lying on the ground began to move forward in desperation.

Looking at the enemy positions ahead, Elf Wang, who was standing behind a half-destroyed bridge pier, shouted to Brother Mole, who was directing the fire, "They're only 250 meters away from us."

Irene, who was standing below the bridge pier, exclaimed in surprise, "Damn, they're crawling pretty fast."

The maximum firing range of the Armour Fist Bazooka was about that far. If those marauders crawled forward another 50 or 60 meters, they would be able to return fire.

Bullets were already whizzing towards them, clanging and clinking against the welded steel plates of the trucks.

Escaping Mole put down his binoculars and waved his hand backward. "Fall back!"

2 anti-aircraft vehicles immediately began their retreat.

Positioned in the rear, the trucks slowly raised their cannons, aimed at the advancing marauders, and with thunderous roars, 2 88mm shells were launched.

Explosions followed, accompanied by the billowing dust, taking over from the anti-aircraft guns for a brief moment, suppressing the advancing marauders.

And just then, 150 fierce Jungle Corps soldiers stormed onto the battlefield.

While the marauders were still reeling from the departure of the anti-aircraft vehicles, a barrage of machine gun fire rained down upon them, forcing those who had just prepared to charge to get down on the ground.

In front of them, the KV 1 exoskeletons, clad in steel plates, moved forward, each soldier equipped with an LD 47J light machine gun. Their firepower surpassed what had come before.

Observing the chaos ahead, the brigade commander, present at the frontline, couldn't hide a hint of despair on his face.

These soldiers...

They were like demons!

Perhaps, witnessing the dire situation on the frontline, a signal flare was launched from the rear. As the 2 streaks of green lights ascended into the sky, the Brigade Commander finally breathed a sigh of relief and shouted to his comrades on the frontline. "Retreat!"

The marauders, who had almost reached the enemy's muzzles, cursed under their breaths. But retreating was, after all, a good thing.

The marauders in the rear positions opened fire to cover their comrades' withdrawal.

However, at that very moment, a silver cross-shaped aircraft appeared overhead, suddenly unleashing a fierce bombardment.

Faced with the rain of fire from the skies, it wasn't just the brigade that had ventured outside the city to confront the enemy that was left bewildered. Even the city's defenders, hiding inside, were thrown into confusion.

What in the world was this?

In the past, the New Alliance's aircraft had frequently appeared overhead, dropping bombs. However, those had been wooden gliders, vulnerable to rifle fire. Especially when they dived for an attack, the marauders had managed to take a few of them down.

But this time, the aircraft were different. Not only did they show no intention of descending, they fired from beyond the marauders' attack range.

How were they going to fight when they enemy had something like that?

Confused by the barrage from all directions, the brigade that had initially ventured outside the city lost their morale entirely, and within moments, they were fleeing in disarray.

When they had left the city, they had numbered 1,121. Upon their return, they couldn't even form 2 complete companies, and every single survivor bore the scars of battle.

As they gazed upon their comrades, battered and defeated, the marauders who remained behind cover and behind windows couldn't help but swallow hard, sharing a sense of deepening dread.

Faced with such a formidable adversary...

Did they truly stand a chance?

Just then, a transport aircraft soared overhead. Those marauders in the streets hurriedly retreated into nearby alleys, and those by the windows quickly took cover.

The New Alliance's propeller noise had become ingrained in their DNA as a source of fear.

However, to their surprise, what was dropped this time were not bombs but leaflets that fluttered down like snowflakes.

"... What is this?" Gingerly picking up a piece of paper from the ground, Greyhound unfolded it and glanced at it.

The paper was roughly made, with text on the front and an image on the back.

He didn't understand what the text meant. However, he could clearly see the images on the back. One depicted contorted bodies, with numbers beside them, likely indicating the number of casualties. As for the background, it seemed to be Pinewood Forest Valley.

Another image showed groups of captives, holding bowls as they received food from a large pot.

In addition, there were several colorless photos below.

Amongst those photos, the photo of Dillon was recognizable, but it was marked with an ‘X’. Next were Lion Fang and Bear Fang, and a few others who were probably Brigade Commanders, but Greyhound didn't recognize them.

These must be captives...

Greyhound's eyes filled with a mixture of realization and complexity.