The expeditionary force began to dominate Southeast Asia by recruiting defeated soldiers

Chapter 506 Chapter 277 Special Operations Group in Action (Requesting a Gift)

Tanabe Moritake turned abruptly, a final glimmer of sharpness flashing from his cloudy eyes as he glanced at his trembling subordinates.

"Why didn't the Combined Fleet head south? Why didn't it sail into this huge port to replenish the precious fuel they desperately needed?

Why not open up sea routes to bring in reinforcements, ammunition, food, medicine... everything we desperately need?!"

"Why?!" His voice suddenly rose, roaring with the despair of a trapped animal, "Why is our 25th Army still hiding like rats in this dark cave?"

"Why?! Are we supposed to listen to bombs dropping overhead, eat moldy rice, and watch soldiers fall one by one from hunger and disease?!"

There was dead silence in the command center.

There was only the constant sound of explosions overhead and the slight crackling of burning oil lamp wicks.

The answer is now clear to everyone.

That battle report was nothing but another huge lie woven by the navy to cover up its disastrous defeat and to maintain the myth of "long-lasting military fortune" which had already been riddled with holes and was on the verge of crumbling.

The Combined Fleet was probably finished. Not to mention sending support southward, it was unclear whether they could even escape back to their home ports and survive.

There was only fatigue and despair left in Tanabe Moritake's eyes.

He no longer looked at anyone, but silently walked to a simple wooden box in the corner. He opened the box and found an object carefully wrapped in oilcloth lying quietly inside.

He carefully untied the oilcloth, revealing a slender, ancient samurai sword inside.

The scabbard was dark mackerel hide, and the handle was wrapped with faded silk ribbon.

This is his family heirloom sword, a symbol of the honor of a samurai.

He drew out the blade, and the cold light was awe-inspiring even under the dim oil lamp.

The blade was like autumn water, reflecting his wrinkled and haggard face.

Tanabe Moritake no longer paid attention to the explosion above his head and the gazes of his subordinates.

He found a piece of clean linen, took out a small porcelain bottle from the bottom of the box, and poured a few drops of clear knife oil on the cloth.

Then he sat down cross-legged, placed the knife across his knees, and began to wipe the snow-white blade over and over again with an oiled linen cloth, with great concentration and piety.

His movements were slow and steady, not missing any tiny corner.

The oilcloth rubbed against the blade, making an extremely subtle "rustling" sound that seemed particularly clear and strange.

The staff officers looked at their commander in horror.

They understand what this action means...

"Your Excellency, Lieutenant General..." an older staff officer spoke in a trembling voice.

Tanabe Moritake didn't even raise his head, still concentrating on wiping the blade, his voice low and hoarse:

"Headquarters' lies cannot deceive the enemy, nor can they save us. We will not deceive you. The 25th Army is already abandoned."

He paused, his fingers lightly brushing against the cold, sharp blade, feeling the sharpness that could easily cut off a life:

"As a soldier of a brother nation, and commander of the 25th Army, in the face of defeat, I have no choice but to die to thank the heavens and uphold the name of the samurai."

He picked up the knife and, under the dim light of the oil lamp, carefully examined every inch of the blade, as if he were admiring a perfect work of art.

As long as the knife is sharpened quickly enough, the pain of seppuku won't last too long...right?

"This knife," he muttered to himself, "has been with me for half my life. I'll end it with it, cleanly, neatly, and respectably."

Then a smile uglier than crying appeared at the corner of his mouth.

I was secretly complaining: What about the Nanbu pistol that was issued?

He glanced at the bulky 1900-era pistol on the table, his eyes full of contempt and disdain.

Using it to commit suicide? Haha... that would only increase the pain. Even suicide would be too much trouble with this piece of junk.

Tanabe Moritake slowly sheathed his sword, his movements as gentle as if he were treating a lover. Then, he embraced the sword, closed his eyes, and leaned against the cold earthen wall.

The explosions overhead seemed distant.

This old devil, whose hands are stained with the blood of countless innocent people and who has committed countless crimes, is now sharpening his knife, not to kill the enemy, but to commit suicide.

Karma, it seems, is how it should be.

-----

At the same time, outside the city of Palembang, about fifteen kilometers southwest, on the edge of a tropical rainforest.

It is hot and humid here, and the tall tree canopy blocks out the sun, leaving only a few broken spots of light.

Lin Laisheng leaned against the aerial roots of a huge ancient tree, holding a grass stem in his mouth, his eyes penetrating the gaps between the layers of branches and leaves, and looking towards the northeast sky.

There, the low, thunder-like roar of an engine was faintly heard, drowning out the buzzing of insects in the jungle.

"Here it comes." He whispered, his voice calm.

The bushes around him shook slightly, and several figures wearing camouflage combat uniforms and with oil paint on their faces came over and looked in the direction he was looking.

A dense group of black spots appeared in the sky, lined up in neat formations.

They flew very high, and the sunlight occasionally reflected a dazzling metallic luster on the wings or fuselage.

Soon, the dull roar of explosions, like the continuous rumbling of drums, drifted faintly from the direction of Palembang. Even from such a distance, the ground beneath my feet seemed to tremble slightly, and the air carried the sound of the blast wave sweeping through the jungle.

"It's our four-engine heavy bomber. Those guys in the Air Force are shitting on the Japanese again!" A strong Chinese man with a scar on his face licked his cracked lips, with a bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes.

"Yeah." Lin Laisheng didn't say anything else, but just silently calculated the intensity and duration of the bombing.

He knew that the giant steel birds soaring above his head should be the Nanyang Defense Force Air Force's own B-17G bomber fleet.

Unfortunately, he could only see some small black dots in the sky from the ground. What he didn't know was that the ones coming today also included a squadron of 10 B-29A-BN 'Super Fortresses' that Zhang Chi had recently purchased from the system and had just entered service.

The bombing was still going on. Lin Laisheng noticed that some of the planes in the sky that had finished dropping bombs had begun to turn around and return, while the remaining planes were heading to other targets to drop bombs.

This also happens to provide excellent cover for their operations behind enemy lines.

In the distance, black smoke was billowing, and the smell of gunpowder from the direction of Palembang seemed to be drifting over faintly with the wind.

"Okay, the Japs are busy putting out fires and licking their wounds right now. They have no time to care about us little shrimps." Lin Laisheng spat out the grass stems in his mouth, stood up, and patted the dirt and fallen leaves off his body.

"Attention everyone, it's time to act."

He made a gesture, and more than forty powerful and imposing figures in similar attire stood up silently from the dense vegetation around him.

They were well-equipped. In addition to the standard M1 Garand rifle of the Nanyang Defense Force, many people also carried M1 carbines, Thompson submachine guns, and some even carried shotguns specially used for close combat in the jungle and breaking down doors.

The other two snipers were even more like ghosts, wearing camouflage uniforms covered with branches and leaves, and holding Springfield sniper rifles equipped with scopes.

They moved quickly and quietly into the depths of the jungle, their target heading towards a stream bay not far away that was half-hidden by dense vegetation.

There, five camouflaged assault boats equipped with small outboard engines were quietly anchored.