Chapter 1318 The Battle to Recapture Yucheng 4
Following the order issued by Liu Zhenguo, commander of the 1st Special Operations Army, the 31st Combined Arms Brigade was positioned approximately 800 meters behind its front line in the northern part of Chongqing's main urban area.
This area has been ravaged by artillery fire and tank tracks. Buildings are leaning precariously, streets are unrecognizable, and the air is thick with the smell of burning and lingering smoke.
Ahead, the roar of the Type 99A main battle tanks and the gunfire of infantry fighting could be clearly heard; behind, however, lay a relatively "quiet" death zone.
But the quietness is only on the surface.
In the shadows of a half-collapsed shopping mall, a team is silently gathering.
Special Operations Brigade No. 1.
As a heroic unit that was awarded the collective special merit in the night market battle, almost wiped out its entire organization, and then replenished and rebuilt in the name of iron and blood, their current state is a strange mixture of fanaticism and coldness.
At the very front of the column, Brigade Commander Barto stood as still as a mountain.
He switched to the newly issued "Night Hunter-IV" heavy armor, which has sharper lines and a more precise hydraulic assist system at the joints compared to the previous vanguard version. The shoulders are equipped with foldable additional armor plates and miniature multi-barrel launchers (for launching stun grenades, smoke grenades, or special fragmentation). The energy backpack on his back is slightly larger, and its endurance and output are more stable.
The dark red paint, resembling congealed blood, gleamed with an ominous glow in the dim light filtering through the cracks of the dilapidated building.
The amber-colored chips on his helmet flickered slightly as he scanned the street ahead, which resembled the remains of a colossal beast.
Behind him were the newly replenished, fully-staffed soldiers of the First Special Operations Brigade, numbering two thousand.
Among them, about three hundred were veteran soldiers who had survived the bloody battles of the night market and crawled out of mountains of corpses. Their eyes, projected through their faceplates, revealed a calm and indifference that came after experiencing extreme carnage.
The remaining 1,700 men were "elite" personnel drawn from various units of the 1st Special Operations Corps!
At this moment, they gripped their ornate yet deadly obsidian claws or modified alloy blades tightly, their breathing slightly rapid, a mixture of desire for battle and tension in the face of the unknown cruelty.
With new and old blood mingling, a new bloody battle is urgently needed to reintegrate and forge a shared military spirit.
Barto could sense the subtle restlessness of the troops behind him.
He didn't turn around, but instead used the brigade-level tactical communication system to transmit his voice to every soldier.
His voice, filtered through the mask, carried the deep resonance and metallic scraping characteristic of ghouls, yet remained exceptionally clear:
woo woo woo woo--
translation:
"Soldiers, beneath our feet lies a road paved for us by our brother units with steel."
"Before us lies the dregs of darkness."
"The glory of the First Special Operations Brigade was forged in blood, and it must also be wiped clean with blood!"
"No matter which unit you came from before, now you have only one name—Special Forces Brigade No. 1."
"Our mission: to find, tear apart, and purify."
"Special Operations First Brigade—"
Barto's armored arm shot up sharply, pointing at the dilapidated office building; the movement was clean and swift, without the slightest hesitation.
"Forward! Purge everything!"
"Whoosh—!!!"
A deep, inhuman battle cry erupted from beneath the visor, instantly drowning out the distant gunfire!
The next second, this black torrent of two thousand people moved, like an unreachable black torrent suddenly pouring out of a dam!
Fierce and powerful!
Accompanied by the intense friction of alloy claws treading on the gravel, they moved in platoons toward the buildings, blocks, and underground entrances they were responsible for, demonstrating extremely high tactical skills in terms of distance, cover angles, and speed of advance!
Barto personally led the brigade's direct assault company and a reinforced platoon as the vanguard, heading straight for the tallest and most structurally complex dilapidated office building.
Half of the building was destroyed by artillery fire, revealing twisted steel bars and dark floors. Countless windows looked like empty eye sockets, as if something was spying inside.
"Team A, front entrance! Team B, flank breach! Team C, ready to provide support! Drones, scan ahead!" Barto's orders were concise and swift.
Under the control of human technicians, several small quadcopter drones flew into the building like ghosts, transmitting thermal and low-light images back in real time.
"Reporting to the brigade commander, there are about twenty scattered heat sources in the lobby on the first floor, suspected to be ordinary zombies. There is a dense heat reaction moving upwards in the safety passage on the left!"
"receive."
boom! !
As soon as he finished speaking, Barto pushed off the ground with his paws, his figure turning into a dark red afterimage, and he was the first to crash into the hall through the blasted gap in the building!
"Ho-!"
Several wandering zombies immediately roared and pounced.
Barto didn't even use his claws; he simply charged forward, his armored shoulder slamming into a zombie's chest!
"Oh!"
With a dull thud, the zombie's chest visibly caved in, the sound of bones shattering was clearly audible, and its entire body flew backward like a rag doll, crashing into a section of the remaining counter.
At the same time, he spread his arms, and the obsidian claw blades shot out with a "whoosh," drawing two chilling streaks in the dim light. They swept across left and right, and the heads of the other two zombies flew into the air, black blood splattering onto the mottled wall.
The ghoul warriors behind him swarmed in, quickly clearing out the remaining zombies in the hall thanks to their armor and the muscle memory developed through training.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh—" Emergency exit! Something's coming down!" shouted a veteran on guard duty.
From the emergency exit door on the left, came a dense, teeth-grinding sound of scratching and running. The next moment, the door was violently kicked open, and several "Swift Claw" mutants with unusually developed limbs and bone blades evolved at their fingertips rushed out with a hiss!
They were incredibly fast, almost turning into streaks of gray!
