Chapter 1364: The highest-ranking person in the 1281 army

“Crash…” A Qin Army soldier cautiously pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the first-floor lobby of the restored power at the Supreme Command.

Debris was scattered everywhere as the Tang Army’s helicopter had just strafed this building with its machine guns, leaving the inside in complete disarray, with broken items everywhere.

Several bullet holes adorned the portrait of Emperor Qin Ying Duo hanging on the wall, which had dropped onto the floor below, next to the corpse of a guard with a twisted neck.

Bodies lay strewn across the floor chaotically; the face of an officer hanging on the stairs bore nearly dried bloodstains, while shoeprints on a candle below caught the attention of the Qin Army officer following behind the soldier into the place.

The soleprints did not match those of the Qin Army. He picked up a bullet casing from the ground, inspecting it closely; it was finely crafted and clearly not the usual 7.62mm caliber rifle bullets used by the Tang Army.

The bullets are custom-made too? With a frown, he ascended the stairs; the situation on the floor above was different from downstairs, with more bullet casings present, indicating a fierce battle had occurred on the second floor.

Or rather, a massacre had taken place… Everywhere lay the bodies of Qin Country officers; this was, after all, the group headquarters where even a random officer held the rank of captain or major, and now all these men lay dead, decisively killed.

The women officers responsible for clerical work were not spared either. They lay by the tables, collapsed in chairs, some died in corners of the room, while others bumped into furniture like file cabinets in their final moments.

The scene was riddled with bullet holes, and nearly every doorway seemed to have one or more Qin Country officers with pistols in hand, attempting to hold their ground using the door frames as cover.

Unfortunately, the assault was executed too swiftly… The officer proceeded along the corridor, past room after room, seeing Qin Country officers collapsed inside the doorways.

The guards in the corridor, without even having time to seize their submachine guns, had been shot dead at their posts. The opposing side had impeccable marksmanship, with nearly every shot hitting a vital point.

He paused next to the body of a guard holding a submachine gun, his gaze falling upon the bullet holes in the guard’s head and chest.

From his perspective, one or two people had accurately shot this guard without wasting any firepower.

He continued like this until he reached Ying’an’s office, where the officer saw the body of Ying’an’s adjutant crumpled inside. The unfortunate soul had been shot twice, his pistol still holstered, never drawn.

Near the center of the room lay a fragment of a hand grenade. Such a grenade was hardly seen on battlefields; it was cylindrical, whereas battlefield grenades were oval-shaped.

“No fragments, this isn’t a lethal hand grenade,” the officer remarked to the aide responsible for note-taking behind him, then pulled a pistol out from the adjutant’s body.

He removed the magazine, finding it full of bullets: “As an adjutant, it’s unthinkable that he wouldn’t even draw his gun till the last moment… Such lax readiness is inconceivable.”

Ying’an was a high-ranking general in the Qin Country, and the adjutants attached to officers of such caliber were battle-hardened veterans who’d instinctively reach for their weapons at the first sound of gunfire, making such an unprepared demise unlikely.

“The corridor erupted in fierce combat; how could there be no preparation in the room at all? Had he died with a pistol in hand at the doorway, that’d be normal,” the Qin Country officer offered his assessment, “Unless, they didn’t hear the gunfire.”

“Silencers? Indeed, Tang Country possesses such items, but those commercially available haven’t been particularly effective,” a subordinate commented.

Still, he couldn’t explain why in the entire building, regardless of the guards or officers, there was almost no resistance before being decimated.

Normally, the deeper inside, the more time personnel should have to prepare calmly against an active threat. Yet the confrontation seemed to arise swiftly, clearing out the entire second level nearly instantly.

“They have something better!” The officer moved beside Ying’an’s chair, looking at the scattered footprints on the ground: “In any case… General Ying’an isn’t dead; he was taken away.”

Upon finishing, he reached out to pull open the drawer, finding the PPK pistol inside: “He didn’t even have time to end things on his own terms…”

By this point, he’d surmised part of the reason: The noise from generators outside had drowned out the sounds of weapons with silencers, and the darkness from the power outage kept the sentinels and personnel outside from noticing the ghost-like infiltration of the Tang Army.

“We discovered the route used by the intruders… The whole post full of bodies, they killed their way inside, yet went unnoticed,” a subordinate reported promptly upon entering.

After interrogating the guards outside, he checked the nearest checkpoint. The good news was no one had betrayed the Great Qin Empire, but the bad news was that these brave soldiers hadn’t managed to fire a shot before dying.

“A battalion capable of operating effortlessly at night… and a helicopter unit that could suppress ground forces while hovering and landing vertically… Ingenious.” The leading Qin Country officer removed his cap, running a hand through his hair.

He’d already begun to appreciate the Tang People’s imaginative maneuvers, realizing that courage arises from exceptional skill. No wonder they dared assault the group headquarters directly; if he possessed such lethal methods, he’d try it too. The potential gains were too significant, weren’t they?

“What about General Ying’an…” a subordinate inquired timidly.

“Just report truthfully… Chances are, he’s already in the Tang Army’s camp now.” Watching the slightly brightening sky, the Qin Country officer speculated.

Aboard the bumping helicopter, Ying’an finally began recovering from the shock bomb’s incapacitation. His eyes started to focus on some surroundings, and the buzzing in his ears lessened significantly.

His hands were tied behind his back, causing excruciating pain around the base of his thumb whenever he exerted force. He saw Tang Army soldiers sitting on both sides of him, resembling ghost-like figures.

Their helmets were small, with headphones covering the entire ears, akin to those used by pilots for communication devices.

The front of each small helmet was fitted with a gadget, resembling a cannon installed on the forehead. What worried Ying’an was the blurred faces he perceived on both sides, painted black with oil paint.

Are they doing this to scare me? Ying’an pondered in his mind before realizing, seconds later, that it might be a method for masking faces during nighttime operations.

The Tang Army did not release Ying’an nearby; instead, they transferred him directly to another helicopter headed for the rear.

“Where are you taking me?” Ying’an weakly asked.

“What’s he saying?” The specialized unit commander across the noisy cabin couldn’t hear Ying’an’s words.

“He asks where we’re taking him!” An operative next to him loudly repeated Ying’an’s question, nearly shouting.

“Hezhe.” The leading special forces commander shouted a response back at Ying’an: “Xiajian’s a bit chaotic, but Hezhe’s a fine place.”

Nearly collapsing in his seat, Ying’an realized he’d become famous, much like when he defeated Li Mingshun at Shanchong; he’d gained notoriety.

He was, in the history of the Great Qin Empire, or perhaps the entire Qin Country… the highest-ranked general to be captured…