Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Terrified Allied Forces

Before dawn, Lin Lei slipped away quietly, just as he had arrived, waving his hand and stealing all the supplies.

At the same time, Yamaguchi Motonobu, brimming with excitement, had risen early.

“Today is the day the Empire of Japan will make its name known across the seas!” Yamaguchi Motonobu declared solemnly.

He dressed in his military uniform, carefully slicked back his hair, and looked even more imposing—though the effect would have been perfect were it not for his round, protruding belly and height barely reaching one meter sixty.

“Huh? Where are my sidearm and command saber? Who would dare tamper with my belongings?” Yamaguchi Motonobu’s expression darkened.

He stormed out of his room in anger, only to discover that not a single guard was posted outside.

“Damn it! Where has everyone gone?” Yamaguchi Motonobu cursed.

Just last night, he had beat his chest in front of the foreign generals, assuring them that his soldiers were elite. Yet now, at dawn, there were signs of desertion—and worse, thieves among his personal guards. If word got out, the humiliation would be profound.

The senior officers and their guards from various nations resided in a small village, avoiding the tents where common soldiers slept. The original villagers, if old, sick, or infirm, had been driven out by the coalition, left to fend for themselves; the able-bodied youth were forcibly recruited as laborers for the rear supply teams.

With heavy troops stationed around the village, Yamaguchi Motonobu had never imagined someone could infiltrate so silently.

But the streets were eerily quiet, not a single patrol in sight; now, panic crept in. He hurried to Waldsee's quarters, finding no guards at the door.

He pushed inside and saw Waldsee still fast asleep. Perhaps from the heat, the German officer slept naked, uncovered—decadence at its peak.

Yamaguchi Motonobu glanced down to compare himself, and immediately felt a wave of inferiority.

But this was no time to measure “assets.” Regaining his senses, he rushed forward to wake Waldsee. “Marshal Waldsee, something’s happened to the camp!”

Waldsee, roused from sleep, opened his eyes only to see a “pig-headed” man leering at him and babbling in a language he could not understand. Instantly alert, Waldsee recalled that he had been sleeping naked these past nights—had this fellow snuck in with evil intentions?

With that thought, Waldsee kicked Yamaguchi Motonobu across the room, grabbed a blanket to cover himself, and loudly called for the guards outside.

Caught off guard, Yamaguchi Motonobu took a heavy blow and lay dazed in the corner, deeply frustrated—he had come to deliver a warning, only to be kicked for his trouble.

Waldsee called several times, but no one came. Panic began to set in. Perhaps this Japanese pig meant him harm and had ordered the guards outside captured?

The more he considered it, the more plausible it seemed. Waldsee, forgetting even to dress, searched for his sidearm, but after rummaging through the room, found neither gun nor saber.

---

Now convinced of his suspicions, he unleashed a torrent of curses at Yamaguchi Motonobu sprawled on the floor.

With no interpreter present, one spoke Japanese, the other German—their exchange was as incomprehensible as chickens and ducks squawking at each other.

Soon, their “argument” grew loud enough to rouse other coalition commanders.

Their first reaction upon entering the room was shock—the scene was so vivid, so eye-searing.

Fortunately, among them were officers fluent in both Japanese and German, and after gathering together, the group finally pieced together the sequence of events.

Once the truth was clear, no one was in the mood for further spectacle. Their immediate reaction was to reach for their own waists, only to discover their sidearms missing as well.

In panic, they dashed out to summon and count their troops.

As time passed, bad news came in waves, causing several coalition commanders to break down completely.

The soldiers were gone, the food was gone, the weapons and ammunition were gone—some camps had even lost their tents...

“My army... My Fifth Division... It’s over, all over! Your Majesty, I am a criminal to the Empire!” Yamaguchi Motonobu knelt on the ground, wailing bitterly.

He wanted to commit ritual suicide, but could not even find a kitchen knife.

The Fifth Division was the main force of the coalition, the vanguard, so it had been stationed on the outermost perimeter—and suffered the heaviest losses.

Of the missing coalition troops, more than thirteen thousand five hundred belonged to Japan’s Fifth Division.

The other seven nations combined lost fewer than thirteen hundred.

Italy was the second worst off, now reduced to a single commander, Edward.

Those forced laborers, upon realizing that the supplies they had carried so arduously had vanished overnight, fled in panic.

Though the coalition still had over nine thousand men, all were unarmed and demoralized—they dared not pursue the laborers.

They lacked even the courage to remain, instead gravitating toward the navy's location, hoping there were still survivors.

The dawn raid, limited by time and Lin Lei’s unwillingness to let the system profit, spared the navy camp—a small mercy that left the coalition with a glimmer of hope.

---

After Waldsee’s group joined the navy, they managed to assemble over two thousand rifles from the warships, granting a semblance of self-defense, but last night’s strange events left no one believing these broken guns could truly protect them.

Their only option was to continue fleeing, aiming for Port Lüshun.

To carry as many soldiers as possible, they threw excess supplies from the ships into the sea, dismantling and discarding even some of the heavy-caliber cannons.

Yamaguchi Motonobu watched in agony; most of these warships belonged to the Empire of Japan.

Yesterday he had rejoiced at his minimal losses—today, retribution struck. Not only had the army lost more than half, but over twenty navy warships had been forcibly converted into cargo ships.

Meanwhile, the mastermind behind this string of disasters had already returned to Dagu.

“System, I want to repay the war loan.” When it came to repayment, Lin Lei was always proactive.

He had no choice—the forty percent cut was too exorbitant. To prevent the system from fleecing him further, Lin Lei chose to repay decisively.

During the earlier anti-landing operation, he earned 384 contribution points. Then, in the night raid on Kaiping, another 759 points. The two battles totaled 1,143 contribution points.

Though the profits seemed substantial, forty percent went to the system—457.2 points—plus the 500-point principal, leaving Lin Lei with a net profit of only 185.8 points for all his efforts.

Indeed, the system was the most ruthless entrepreneur.

After settling accounts, Lin Lei’s material storage held only a few coalition corpses (worth 7.26 points), seven newly launched bare hulls (with just two units of ammunition each, all other materials recovered), five thousand modern rifles of various models, and a total of fifty thousand rounds of matching ammunition.

These supplies could serve as a bargaining chip to exchange with the Qing for mining rights.

Alternatively, they could be reserved for the Qian Division to strengthen their own power.

Though the Hive drones worked wonders, they consumed enormous energy. For future small-scale battles with low profits, Lin Lei would have to rely on the Qian Division’s strength.