HCB Chapter 1411: Defend?
Chapter 1411: Defend?
More than 400 artillery pieces, and even powerful weapons like 380mm rockets!
What's the difference between their division headquarters, their supposedly fortified positions, and their proud mountain defenses and window paper?
Inside the cave, there was a deathly silence, a silence that was more thorough and more despairing than before.
No one spoke, no one moved, and no one even dared to breathe heavily.
It was as if making even the slightest sound would alert the more than 400 cannons that had already locked onto them, causing the shells to fall prematurely.
Huang Guoqing lowered his head, his shoulders trembling slightly, whether from fear or from the helplessness that followed when his anger was finally extinguished by the cold water of reality...
Chen Mingde remained standing, but no longer looked at the cave entrance. His gaze was fixed blankly on a certain spot, his lips moving in a murmur, but no sound came out.
Wu Wenshan stared intently at the map on the table, at the circles and squares representing his troops, as if trying to etch them into his very bones, because perhaps, soon, they would turn to ashes.
The other regimental commanders either closed their eyes, lowered their heads, or simply sat there blankly, like soulless puppets.
Only Li Guangzhong remained standing.
He said everything he needed to say.
He looked at each of the leaders present, at the utterly devastated expressions on their faces, and felt no pleasure, no sorrow, not even the hindsight superiority of "I told you so."
There was only one kind of... numb, resigned calm, because he, like them, was just an ant.
However, he saw the foot that was about to fall first.
a long time.
Ruan Wenxiong finally made a move.
He slowly raised his hand and placed the broken cigarette butt between his fingers on the table.
His movements were slow and gentle, as if every tiny movement required the full strength of his body.
Then he spoke.
His voice was hoarse and deep, as if it came from the depths of a dried-up ancient well: "Guangzhong..."
He paused.
"You...you think..."
He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone knew what he wanted to ask.
Li Guangzhong looked at him, at this commander who had led them to struggle for survival in the apocalypse for two years, made countless difficult decisions, and now seemed to have aged ten years in an instant.
He was silent for a few seconds, then he said something very simple, but it was like the last snowflake that broke the last fragile branch in everyone's heart:
"Commander, we have no choice."
......
"Has the inland river... replied?"
After a long silence, Division Commander Nguyen Van Hung spoke again, this time looking at Political Director Hoang Quoc Khanh, who was sitting on the other side of the conference table.
In his eyes was a faint hope that even he himself was unaware of, like a drowning person reaching out in vain in the dark, trying to grasp a straw that may not even exist.
As soon as he finished speaking, the already tense atmosphere in the conference room seemed to grow even heavier.
All eyes turned to Huang Guoqing.
The political director, who had just been furious and slamming his fist on the table, now seemed to have lost all his strength, sitting hunched over in his chair, his face as pale as paper.
He raised his head, met Ruan Wenxiong's gaze, then quickly looked away. His lips moved, but no sound came out.
Seeing this, Nguyen Van Hung's brows furrowed even more.
"Director Huang, I'm asking you a question. Is there any news from the inland river?"
Huang Guoqing's Adam's apple bobbed violently a few times.
He opened his mouth, but what came out was a dry, hoarse, almost inaudible sound:
"Commander..."
"The Central Committee of the Vietnamese Political Party has instructed us to hold our ground and not retreat a single step!"
As soon as the words were spoken, Hanoi's order was like a bucket of ice water poured over everyone's hearts.
Hold the line?
What can we use to hold on?
Should we use those trenches that are clearly visible to drones? Or those old artillery pieces that might not even fire a shell? Or those soldiers lying in the trenches sleeping and scratching their butts?
Ruan Wenxiong's lips twitched, as if he wanted to say something, but he was choked by the dry, blocked feeling in his throat.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm.
"Where are the reinforcements?" His voice was hoarse and low. "Has the Inner River authorities said which troops they will send to support us?"
Huang Guoqing shook his head. The movement was slow and light, yet it carried a sense of certainty that was almost despairing.
"No."
His voice was as dry as the friction of withered leaves.
"That's all the instructions. No reinforcements, no supplies, nothing at all."
"They said they believed in the loyalty and ability of the 2nd Division, and that they believed we could...we could defend the country's borders."
“Loyalty…competence…” Deputy Division Commander Chen Mingde murmured these two words, his lips curving into a smile that looked more like a grimace.
His gaze fell blankly on a certain spot, his voice growing softer and softer: "What will we use to defend it? Our lives?"
...
No one answered him, and the conference room fell into a deathly silence once again.
In that silence, there was no anger, no resistance, not even the fear from before, only a thorough, deep-seated...despair.
Pointed at by four hundred cannons, watched by drones 24/7, and overlooked by a steel giant that could crush them at any moment—
Then, their "central command" gave them an instruction:
hold fast.
They didn't give us a single soldier, not a single cannon, and not even a comforting "we'll figure something out."
There are only two words: perseverance.
It's as if, in the eyes of those bigwigs in Hanoi, these three thousand-plus people are just a string of numbers that can be wiped out at any time, just a "defense line" that can be abandoned at any time.
A defensive line built of flesh and blood, which can only hold out for as long as possible.
Nguyen Van Hung closed his eyes.
He recalled the beginning of the apocalypse, when order collapsed, communications were cut off, and he led his remaining troops in a difficult struggle to survive in this mountainous region.
At that time, he longed for news from Hanoi countless times, hoping that the "central government" could give them a direction, an order, and a glimmer of hope.
When communications were finally partially restored, and when instructions from Hanoi finally came in intermittently, he was so excited, so... loyal.
He thought the central government still remembered them.
He thought the central government would stand with them through thick and thin.
But now...