It Seems Even the Heavens Are on Our Side!

In a cluttered storage room tucked into a corner of the underground commercial complex. With the help of two assistants and several guerrilla soldiers, Ma Ban quickly cleared out the room, which measured less than twenty square meters. After borrowing three sets of desks and chairs along with three beds from the warehouse, Ma Ban found a wooden board, wrote on it, and hung it outside the door. With that, the Alliance Hope Town Liaison Office was officially established. Work was just getting under way, and everything was kept simple. Ma Ban had been well prepared for how crude the conditions here would be; after all, several months ago, he and his fellow countrymen had lived here for a time. Standing in the doorway of the liaison office, Yang Duo, the logistics head of Hope Town, wore a somewhat awkward expression. On one hand, they truly had nothing decent to offer in hospitality to this administrator air-dropped in from the New Alliance; on the other, he genuinely did not know how to face this man. "Ban... Ahem, Mr. Ma, long time no see." "Long time no see," Ma Ban answered tersely, showing no inclination for pleasantries. After turning those few words over in his head without being able to gauge the man's thoughts, Yang Duo ventured cautiously: "... I'm very sorry about the relocation, but you know how things were back then. We didn't have any more grain. If we hadn't sent some of our people away, all of us would have starved to death." "Sent away" was a polite euphemism. More accurately, it had been an exile. Crossing through marauder-occupied territory to head south had been a perilous trek with slim odds of survival in itself. And whether the New Alliance would actually honor the promises made in their broadcasts was entirely unknown. However, on one point, Yang Duo had not lied. Their grain truly could not support so many people. Those exiled had included not only Ma Ban and his kinsmen, but also nearly twelve hundred other survivors, primarily hailing from settlements north of Xizhou City. To this day, the whereabouts of those people remained unknown; whether they were dead or alive was anyone's guess. In the end, fewer than thirty percent had made it all the way to Dawn City. Ma Ban glanced at him, realizing the man had likely misunderstood something, and said candidly, "I understand. I have no intention of blaming you. Besides, we've had a good life in Dawn City. They didn't just give us food and shelter—they even arranged jobs for us. There, where you come from doesn't matter; as long as you prove your ability and loyalty to the Alliance, you'll be put in a position of trust... Where is the item I asked you for?" "Right here." Yang Duo smiled awkwardly and hurriedly handed over the booklet in his hands. It was the ledger for Hope Town's warehouse. Recorded inside were the incoming and outgoing figures for every type of supply, including food, salvaged materials, weapons stockpiles, and so forth. Without wasting any time on reminiscing, Ma Ban took the ledger from him and skimmed through it. Later, he would log these figures into the database via his VM and hand them off to the inventory managers sent by the New Alliance. Once integrated into the New Alliance's storage system, every inflow and outflow of warehouse supplies would be audited by an AI. Details like "what was missing from which stage" and "which supply would run short within how many days" would all be visible at a glance. During his time as an assistant supervisor at the Refugee Home, Ma Ban had already witnessed the power of this system. Thus, before taking up this post, he had made up his mind that the first thing he would do upon arriving here was to bring Hope Town's warehouse online. While scanning the ledger with the camera on his headset, Ma Ban casually asked about the warehouse's status. "How many people are currently left in Hope Town, and how much grain is consumed each day?" Facing Ma Ban's inquiry, Yang Duo hurried to answer, "The total population is 5,731. Young and able-bodied adults account for thirty percent, while the rest are elderly, children, and women. Calculating by an adult ration of 300 grams per day, the daily consumption is—" "1,719.3 kilograms... nearly two tons of grain." Flipping through the ledger from start to finish, Ma Ban could not help frowning at the sight of less than five tons of grain in reserve and a pitiful daily intake of under a hundred kilograms. "How have you managed to hold out until now?" At those words, a bitter expression surfaced on Yang Duo's face. "You only left here two-odd months ago yourself... Do you really need to ask?" Ma Ban fell silent for a moment before handing the ledger back to him. "The Alliance's aid will continue for a period. We will do our best to guarantee a supply of two tons of grain per day until the new settlement is on track. "Additionally, the sanitation problem must be resolved as soon as possible, and it must be treated as top priority! This issue cannot wait. Otherwise, diseases and rat infestations will only grow worse, potentially sparking a full-blown epidemic. When that happens, no amount of medicine will save us. "I need you to immediately mobilize everyone in town capable of working. I will assign them tasks to carry out a systematic cleanup across all sections of the temporary shelter. At the same time, we'll clear out more habitable space from the ruins of the commercial complex and replan each zone of the shelter. "Cramming hundreds of people into a single room must stop immediately. It's practically a breeding ground for disease! "As for scavenging... that can be put on hold for now. Right now, the urgent priority is the survival of the people. Everything else takes a back seat." Yang Duo stared blankly at the man standing before him. Though they had parted only two months ago, he felt as if this man had become an entirely different person—so much so that he could barely recognize him. Ma Ban paused a moment before continuing. "Finally, those who have tragically passed away..." "Find a place and bury them." *** With the mobilization order issued, the survivors of Hope Town quickly swung into action. Naturally, what truly ignited their enthusiasm for the cleaning effort was not Mayor Wu's mobilization, but the extra food rations they would receive for taking part in the cleanup. Although it was merely a green wheat cake weighing under 150 grams, to survivors who had subsisted on nutrient paste up to this point, it was already a lavish reward. Ma Ban divided the mobilized survivors into ten-person squads and designated specific areas and duties for each. The phase one objective was to clear away excrement and other waste from the hallways and rooms; phase two was to disinfect every section of the shelter. This was not merely to address hygiene concerns. It was also to help the survivors living here regain the courage to go on living, break down the barriers between them, and rebuild their cohesion. Having served as an assistant supervisor at the Refugee Home, Ma Ban understood clearly that the worse and more oppressive an environment was, the more vital it was not to leave people idle. Thanks to the experience he had accumulated at the Refugee Home, he handled these issues with practiced ease, and the work was swiftly set on the right track. Meanwhile, just as Ma Ban's work was proceeding smoothly, Lü Bei had successfully taken over command of the guerrilla fighters from the resistance organization. However... The situation here was even worse than Lü Bei had imagined. Out of a total of 671 guerrilla members, fewer than half could actually mount any combat capability. And even among those who could fight, most were in worrying health. On top of that, their equipment was equally problematic. Most weapons in their armory were crude pipe rifles, and their ammunition largely consisted of reloaded cartridges using black powder as propellant. Not only did these rounds have an astoundingly high jam rate, but they were also prone to causing barrel bursts due to fouling. Many men had blown off fingers while manufacturing cartridges, which had become the leading cause of non-combat casualties among the guerrillas aside from illness. The following evening, Lü Bei reported the facts he had gathered to Chu Guang back in Dawn City. "... The situation here is even worse than we anticipated, not just their health, but their logistics, which are practically non-existent. The pipe rifles they use can't form any effective combat power at all. Non-combat casualties caused by weapon malfunctions and supply shortages have actually surpassed the casualties inflicted on them by the marauders. "If we want them to become combat-effective, we need at least six hundred rifles and one million rounds of ammunition." Having listened to Lü Bei's report, Chu Guang pondered for a moment before speaking. "Starting right now, suspend all raids. Weapons will be delivered shortly. I need you to do everything possible to teach them how to fight in the shortest time possible—and to fight in an organized manner. "The day of our decisive battle with the marauders is drawing closer. I need them to coordinate with the Burning Corps when the time comes and cut off the Fang Clan's retreat route to the north." Lü Bei answered crisply, "Yes, sir!" After concluding the communication, Chu Guang looked at the document tossed onto his desk. This was a report sent from the front lines. The Fang Clan had transported all their armored units from Xizhou City to Pine Valley. According to aerial footage captured by drones and Vannus's personal knowledge of Dillon, the marauders stationed in the northern positions of Pine Valley had completed all preparations for the decisive battle. The reason they had not made a move was likely that they were waiting for an opportunity. For instance... A heavy rain. While standing water and mud would certainly hinder the advance of tanks to an extent, their impact on propeller aircraft was significantly greater. The New Alliance's propeller aircraft relied mainly on visual observation to drop bombs and open fire; the weather's impact on their operational effectiveness could not be overlooked. Evidently, the enemy had also recognized this and chosen to bide their time. A string of defeats had made the marauders considerably more cautious tactically. It seemed Vannus had hit the nail on the head: the enemy had indeed replaced their frontline commander. They were no longer facing thick-headed bandits, but the former Legion commander himself—Dillon. Although Chu Guang was wary of the enemy's personnel change, he was not overly worried. While the enemy had been consolidating their defensive lines, his players had not been idle either. On the southern positions of Pine Valley, in addition to a dense network of trenches, a large number of steel anti-tank obstacles had been emplaced. These Czech hedgehogs consisted of three L-shaped metal beams fastened together with rivets and bolts. Once assembled, they resembled three-dimensional triple crosses, remaining difficult to destroy completely even under direct hits from artillery shells. This anti-tank obstacle, known as the "Czech hedgehog," had once lined the beaches of Normandy and the streets of Moscow. In less than a week, No. 81 Steel Mill had produced 500 Czech hedgehogs and shipped them to the front via railway. Although these five hundred Czech hedgehogs were not enough to blanket an entire one-kilometer front, paired with dug-out pits and other anti-tank traps, causing trouble for the enemy's armor would not be an issue. Beyond that, his little players had prepared a whole slew of surprises for the Bone Chewer Tribe marauders. Some of their bizarre ideas had left even Vannus dumbfounded— Was that something human beings could actually come up with? "... The past few days have been overcast. I just wonder when this rain will finally fall. "The day of the decisive battle is getting closer and closer." Looking at the mountain of documents piled on the desk, Chu Guang leaned back against the sofa, gently massaging the bridge of his brow to soothe his fatigue. All preparations were complete. The Burning Corps had bought ample time for the front, and the other corps had made good use of it to turn the southern defense lines of Pine Valley into an impregnable bastion. Still... The enemy insisting on waiting for a torrential downpour before launching this decisive battle was something Chu Guang had not anticipated. Under his original assumptions, the enemy would launch a concentrated assault against the New Alliance's positions the moment their preparations were done. And that would likely have occurred near the end of the month. Yet to Chu Guang's surprise, this newly appointed commander was even more cautious than expected and had not rushed blindly into an all-out attack. Especially since the sky had been overcast these past few days. Most pilots in the Goblin Corps were novices with zero experience in foul-weather combat. If the Fang Clan truly managed to wait out a storm, it would introduce countless variables to the battlefield. Furthermore, those marauders had prepared a heap of bizarre anti-air weapons. If only there were a way to flush them out of their bomb shelters... Resting his eyes while turning the thought over, Chu Guang was suddenly struck by an inspiration and sat bolt upright on the sofa. Just then, a great idea had come to mind. While taking this step carried some risk, it was far better than ceding the initiative to the enemy. With a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, Chu Guang took hold of his mouse and muttered softly, "Since you want to turtle so badly..." "I'll just lend you a helping hand!" *** On the northern positions of Pine Valley. Stretching from the heights down to the forest at the mountain's base, across nearly two kilometers of depth, the positions were riddled with crisscrossing trenches and densely clustered bomb craters. The standoff had lasted over half a month. Over these two weeks, the New Alliance had rained at least a thousand shells onto the Fang Clan's positions. Even ten minutes ago, the New Alliance's rocket artillery had unleashed a salvo across the Fang Clan lines. However, this barrage had inflicted few casualties on the marauders entrenched here. As early as a week ago, they had finished digging sufficient trenches and bomb shelters. Aside from the occasional unfortunate soul blown to pieces, in the vast majority of cases, they had already ducked into their bunkers before the second volley arrived. Compared to intensive artillery coverage, what these marauders hunkered down in the trenches truly feared were the New Alliance's mortars. Those blue mole rats were unnervingly cunning. Every time patrols made their rounds on the lines, a mortar round would come dropping out of nowhere, nearly impossible to guard against. Standing on ground that had been ploughed repeatedly by artillery shells, Dillon gripped his binoculars, his brow tightly furrowed as he gazed southward. "Czech hedgehogs..." Hearing this, Bear Fang paused. "What are those?" Dillon did not speak. Standing beside him, Tumen chimed in, "A type of fortification designed to obstruct tank advances... I didn't realize their steel production was in such surplus." Hearing that they were merely fortifications, Bear Fang immediately looked dismissive. "Heh, fortifications? No matter how solid the fortification is, in front of our treads, it's nothing more than a pile of scrap!" His confidence was not without reason. On the path carved from central River Valley Province all the way to the south, the Fang Clan had fought in over a hundred battles, large and small. No matter the engagement, the moment they brought out those iron beasts, despair was carved deep into their opponents' faces. Whatever cover there was, before their 100mm main cannons, it tore like wet paper. All that remained for them to do was advance while firing, gunning down the routed survivors and watching those cowardly pieces of trash scurry like stunted cockroaches. And now, not only had they deployed tanks, but they had amassed all the tanks in the entire tribe! They had even assigned two modified anti-air trucks to every single tank! Hoping a few steel beams could stop them was pure fantasy! Dillon did not contradict Bear Fang's words. Although in his eyes the marauders driving the tanks were like baboons that had stumbled onto rifles, failing to bring out even half the potential of the Conqueror 10, the sheer performance of the machines was enough to compensate for their incompetence. For this pitched battle, they had assembled twenty-seven tanks, nearly fifty anti-air trucks, and five thousand light infantry. This battle would thoroughly crush all combat forces deployed by the New Alliance on the northern front, and Dawn City's industrial zone would soon fall into their hands. At that time, they would completely sweep away any barrier to their southward march, and the entire southern plains of River Valley Province would be incorporated into the territory of the Bone Chewer Tribe. Now, all they lacked was a torrential downpour... "A few Czech hedgehogs are nothing to fear. Even if they laid a belt of anti-tank mines around the base of the mountains, it couldn't stop our armored spearhead from punching through their defense lines. What worries me is whether they're hiding other trump cards..." As he spoke, Dillon shoved the binoculars to Tumen. Looking at his subordinate, he went on, "In a bit, send two scout teams forward to take a look. Map out the positions of those Czech hedgehogs; we'll need that when drafting the operational plan. "The day of the decisive battle draws nearer—it could be today, or it could be tomorrow. From here on out, every step we take must be weighed with the utmost caution!" Taking the binoculars, Tumen snapped to attention and said gravely, "Yes, sir!" Dillon nodded and turned to head back toward the trenches. Just then, a cool sensation touched the tip of his nose. Dillon instinctively looked up, only to see raindrops the size of beans falling one after another from the sky, spattering against the brim of his cap and his shoulders. May weather changed at the drop of a hat. The heavy drops fell faster and thicker, and in less than a minute, a torrential downpour unleashed over the positions. Astonishment flashed across Dillon's face, quickly giving way to wild joy. Rain! The rain had finally come! Standing beside him, Bear Fang reacted even more vigorously. The burly brute threw his arms wide in excitement, threw back his head, and roared with laughter. As if reveling in the pouring rain. "Hahahaha!" "It seems even the heavens are on our side!" Done laughing, he turned to Dillon beside him, heedless of the rain streaming down his face, and shouted excitedly: "What are we still waiting for?! While those blue mole rats' planes turn into waterlogged flies, let's drive our tanks right into their faces and smash their front teeth to dust!" Dillon did not speak, his eyes fixed on the sky as thoughts raced through his mind. Judging by the thickness of the storm clouds overhead, once this rain started, it wouldn't let up anytime soon. Before the ground was turned into a swamp of mud by the rain, now was indeed the optimal window to launch the offensive... Plans were important, but sometimes opportunity mattered even more than the plan. Without further hesitation, Dillon unhooked the walkie-talkie from his shoulder and keyed the talk button. Simultaneously, five kilometers away in a mountain hollow, his voice, amplified through loudspeakers, boomed over the heads of the busily preparing marauders: "All units, attention! Execute Operational Plan One! Everyone grab your gear immediately and assemble at your combat stations! "Roll out our tanks, armored vehicles... every vehicle that can move! "The hour of decisive battle is here! "It's time to teach those wretched rodents an unforgettable lesson!!"