Chapter 445

Chapter 445: Broken Tiles

Even the twenty-centimeter-thick safety isolation door stood no chance against the overpowering laser, which tore open a hole large enough for two people to enter side by side.

“The entrance is open! Begin entering!”

Three soldiers, already familiar with the underground structure, pulled out their micro submachine guns and confidently entered in a single file, rushing down.

The last soldier leaned against the door, gave an "OK" sign, and then followed them.

“We’re going in!” With a wave of their hands, the two squad leaders led the team to charge inside, firing at anyone they saw and tossing grenades into any room they came across.

While the reconnaissance system outside was rendered useless by the technicians of Squadron Three, the monitoring system underground remained completely unaffected.

At the moment the four soldiers stepped inside, alarms blared throughout the underground base, igniting a chaos akin to setting off firecrackers among a flock of sheep.

Everyone was startled, with shouts, running footsteps, gunfire, and the sound of items being knocked over and shattered filling the base. The stationed North Korean special forces soldiers rushed out with their weapons, but before they could shout a few commands to restore order, they were gunned down by a barrage of bullets from unknown sources.

Screams and wails intertwined with cries; a considerable number of those present were technical officers. When it came to real combat with genuine firearms, their tactical skills and mental resilience were vastly inferior. Moreover, since the end of the Korean War assistance, they had not encountered war, leaving them with minimal combat capability. Facing the ever-combat-ready Chinese Special Forces was like being crushed like a fragile chicken.

The weapons carried by the two squads were extraordinarily powerful, and as they charged forward, they unleashed a storm of tear gas and flashbangs, even tossing offensive grenades with no remorse.

Their “Dragon Guard” armor not only had a gas filtration system but also an oxygen supply system, allowing them to operate for half an hour in an oxygen-deprived environment—enough for this operation.

With a path cleared by tear gas, flashbangs, and disposable incendiary grenades, the fire from their automatic rifles never ceased. The rain of bullets danced a deadly choreography on the high-grade cement walls, which had been extensively reinforced with high-grade cement, making them almost as resilient as steel plates. This not only expanded the bullet coverage but also increased lethality.

China specialized in tunnel warfare—who better than the Chinese to tackle the challenge? The soldiers accustomed to the underground base of Night thrived in this environment, defeating the base’s defenders effortlessly.

The two squads charged into the underground base with fierce tactics, as light weapon bullets felt like mere pinpricks against them. They had no reservations and turned the battle into a one-sided massacre.

The surprised North Koreans quickly attempted to close the explosive isolation door to seal off the area, but multiple C4 explosives could not be contained. The pre-prepared directional charge bombs targeted that very safety door, needing only two or three to blast open a hole large enough for three or four people to enter.

The soldiers of Night had astonishing marksmanship, with each bullet finding its mark, especially with skilled equipment, making them practically invulnerable as they sliced through the base’s defenses like a hot knife through butter.

In the face of absolute power, all tactics and strategies proved futile.

Boom! Boom! Boom! The thunderous explosions shook the area, and a door was blown open, sending shards of metal flying into the panicking crowd.

Bang! Bang! Several bright flashes erupted in the passage, causing some North Koreans to scream in terror, dropping their weapons and clutching their eyes, huddling to the ground, utterly incapacitated.

Then came the sound of hissing as a pungent, choking mist spread through the air.

How ruthless! How deadly!

Before the North Korean officers could utter a few curses, bullets sprayed through the breach, ignoring the tear gas.

Even with the gas, they couldn’t halt the deadly precision of the gunfire.

In each corridor, people darted about like headless flies, even shooting their own comrades in a frantic search for weapons.

The North Koreans cried out in panic. Their earlier pride and confidence, once echoed in their loud slogans, vanished in the chaos of gunfire and explosions. Any resolute will was swiftly obliterated under the storm of bullets.

“Enemies, enemies! Quick, counterattack! Where’s the squad leader?”

“The squad leader is dead! We can barely hold on; gather the technicians for an immediate retreat!”

“How could this happen? Major Park Namjeong, how did the squad leader die?”

“Using micro cloud explosive bombs—have the enemies gone mad using such weapons underground? Are they trying to commit suicide?”

“Jin Lichen, don’t worry about anything else, just pull out! Every second counts!”

“Park Namjeong! Park Namjeong! Where are you?”

“He Haoyi, stop shouting; he took people to exit number two. You all need to leave quickly; the guard unit can’t hold on much longer.”

“What about the data? We need to erase the data on the computers here.”

“There’s no time! Let’s go quickly, or we’ll be dead. We cannot be captured.”

“Is there anyone left? I’m Major He Haoyi. Anyone who wants to live, follow me to exit number two! Is anyone there? Avalokiteshvara, help us!”

Inside the Underground Base, the computer hall turned into a temporary assembly area for the North Korean technical officers, buzzing with frantic voices. Led by several major officers, they debated how to break out.

No one knew what was happening outside. To save everyone, they had to scatter and escape. Most followed Major He Haoyi to exit number two, but a few, loyal to their duties, stayed behind in the computer hall, frantically working to destroy all data.

At that moment, a bloodied North Korean special forces soldier staggered in. Seeing others still there, he raised his gun, shouting, “Why are you still here? Do you want to be captured? I can shoot anyone who wishes to be a prisoner right now! Those who want to live, leave immediately and go to exit number two!”

“You! I need to stay here to delete the data.”

“Have you lost your mind? If you don’t leave now, I will shoot!”

“Please, give me five more minutes—just five minutes! I can delete it right away. If we don’t clear the data, our country will face serious trouble; even getting shot ten times won’t be enough.”

“Idiot!” The North Korean special forces soldier cocked his gun again, ready to fire. Just then, a loud explosion echoed from afar, shaking the entire computer hall like an earthquake. The lights flickered, and dust and debris swirled up from every corner.

The technical officers still in the hall turned pale as the realization set in; they instinctively froze, staring alongside the North Korean soldier at the direction of exit number two. They saw an overwhelming cloud of smoke and dust with a choking stench rushing in.

Aside from the gunfire and explosions coming from the wooden cabin, the passage leading to exit number two remained eerily silent—not a single sound, not even a scream; only the sound of debris falling as the structure trembled.

“They—they!” The North Korean soldier trembled, as if his support had vanished.

It was obvious that everyone who had retreated to exit number two faced a severe explosion and all perished—none escaped.

“No…” The North Korean soldier let out a desperate wail, as if all hope had been extinguished, like a wounded Azure Wolf howling in despair.

All his missions, his purpose for existing—it was all gone, even the meaning of life itself.

The few technical officers who had risked staying in the computer hall to erase data were now ghostly pale and trembling as if struck by epilepsy.

“You!” The North Korean soldier, having lost all belief in survival, pulled out a Type 92 pistol from his holster, loaded it, and placed it gently on a nearby computer desk. With lifeless eyes, he briefly glanced at the last few remaining technical officers, then turned and ran toward the sounds of gunfire and explosions.

The technical officers exchanged glances, understanding the unspoken message: this was the only means to refuse capture.

Better to be shattered like jade than to survive like broken tiles.

…

The pride of taking down a fighter jet with a Type 38 rifle vanished, leaving only a ground strewn with bodies and suffocating smoke.

Even if it honed its edge, it was still a sheep that had never seen blood, trembling in front of sharp-toothed lions, just waiting for slaughter.

The continuous gunfire in the cramped space became the main melody, a funeral march for death.

Everything was destined.

The people in this base had no idea they were pawns.

The panicked North Koreans waited in vain for new orders from their superiors but instead faced a surprise attack.

Colonel Cui Enxiu and others had likely already realized this; rather than risking capture or being shot, leaving behind a tragic death, it was better to end their own lives decisively.

“Quick, rush inside! Use the micro submachine guns! Fire!”

Squadron Leader Chen Renkai brandished an Type 05 micro submachine gun, pushing the team from behind, overseeing the operation. Like all the soldiers, he carried at least three weapons: the 9mm Type 92 pistol for close combat, the 5.8mm Type 05 micro submachine gun for urban warfare, and when encountering troublesome enemies, the C7 Type 97 automatic rifle, not the common 5.56mm caliber but a custom 7.6mm caliber, aimed at maximizing range and lethality.