The Ultimate War Of The Apocalypse
Chapter 271 - 265: Justice From Heaven

Chapter 271: Chapter 265: Justice From Heaven

The situation spiraled out of control again.

The power of the 30mm autocannon was incomparable to Gao Yuan’s hand grenades as tracer high-explosive rounds traced lines across the sky, exploding swiftly and accurately among the crowd.

Mainly because the valley was flanked by two mountains, the defeated enemy could only flee along the road, with one side being a river with chilly waters and sheer banks, and the other side a mountain that, except for Gao Yuan, no one could scale quickly, let alone run with ease.

So all Panxin needed to do was to fire the shells in a straight line.

It’s just that the armor of the BMP2 armored vehicle was a bit thin, no anti-tank missiles needed, even a rocket could destroy it.

Within the fleeing crowd, a flash of light, then moments later, a rocket exploded on the mountain wall to the left of the armored vehicle, startling Gao Yuan.

The enemy had fired a rocket, but they missed.

Panxin only needed to slightly adjust the cannon, firing three rounds toward the spot the rocket had been launched from.

The enemy’s remaining resistance soon came to an end, and as Gao Yuan looked out, he could only see a few sporadic muzzle flashes in the distance. In this chaotic and elongated battlefield, the enemy’s firepower could be disregarded.

The coaxial machine gun on the turret never stopped.

The enemy had given up resisting, but Gao Yuan didn’t dare to advance in pursuit because he was within the firing range of the autocannon. If he recklessly moved forward, it would spell trouble if he got hit by friendly fire.

"Chase! Chase after the enemy!"

You had to herd the enemy like sheep, making them run without daring to look back, without any chance to glance rearward, until their own defensive line was utterly scrambled.

Panxin crawled out from the armored vehicle, then he and Li Jingang, arms with rifles, began to rush forward.

Li Jingang’s bugle continued to sound, Panxin occasionally firing a shot, and Gao Yuan, he charged up the mountain wall once again.

Running on the steep mountain wall was exhilarating. There were no stray bullets to worry about, nor was there any fear of being discovered by the enemy. If he saw any resistant enemy soldiers, a thrown hand grenade would settle it.

Having visibility at night for one side while the other lacked it meant an overwhelming advantage.

Gao Yuan even doubted the so-called illustrious and mysterious Sanitation Worker Organization. Even if it wasn’t possible to equip every member with night vision goggles, they should have at least been provided in small quantities.

But now, aside from members of the Black Cat Squad who had night vision goggles, there was no sign of them in any other person’s hands.

That just made it like herding sheep for Gao Yuan and his comrades as they chased and shot.

Fear is contagious, and once disorganization starts, it’s hard to end it in a short time. When it’s unclear what’s happening, human nature is to scare oneself.

Gao Yuan trembled with excitement as he ran up the steep mountain wall, looking down at groups of soldiers below like lambs to the slaughter, helplessly screaming, running—Gao Yuan suddenly felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction.

No one was allowed to turn back and shoot; that was Gao Yuan’s principle. But now, he practically had nothing to do as the Indian soldiers were squeezed together, with their gunfire potentially harming their own first.

Gao Yuan was a little too excited, but as he suddenly ran out from a mountain hollow, he saw a city below him.

The city, enshrouded in darkness without lights, still managed to outline its shape clearly before Gao Yuan’s eyes.

He had unexpectedly reached the forefront, less than two kilometers away from Gilgit as the crow flies.

The enemy became more and more crowded. They weren’t running fast, but whenever Li Jingang blew his bugle, the enemy below would madly dash forward for a bit.

Blow a whistle, make a run, one whistle for each run, without exception.

Gao Yuan stopped, thought for a moment, and then said into the walkie-talkie, "I see Gilgit, and I want to go over first, letting the Pakistani Army take the opportunity to dispatch troops."

The scene on the Indian side had turned into a chaotic mess, but it was relatively quiet because there were not too many gunshots to begin with.

Pakistan would definitely be alarmed, but without clarity on what was happening, they would probably not launch an attack rashly unless someone informed them of the situation.

"Good! You go notify Pakistan to take the opportunity to dispatch troops, but make sure you stay safe, and don’t forget you’re wearing Indian military uniform."

We never expected to be able to breach the Indian lines, so we wore their uniforms, which made it easier to move around undetected—but who could have imagined that the pond would be drained?

Running toward the Pakistani lines while wearing an Indian uniform was very dangerous, but Gao Yuan had no other clothes to change into.

"Never mind, worst comes to worst, I’ll take off the clothes before crossing over. You all be careful, I’m going to find reinforcements."

After speaking, Gao Yuan took a deep breath. He moved the backpack from his back to his chest and slung his rifle over his shoulder.

He took a deep breath, activated, and started running.

Each leap was like flying, and in the intervals of running, Gao Yuan would drop grenades down below.

Indians caught in the chaos would be bombarded and disoriented, but now there was a problem.

The Indians had nowhere to run; ahead of them was the Pakistani Army’s position, behind were the advancing Shenzhou Army forces. They had to either advance and attack the Pakistani position or turn back to face the Shenzhou onslaught.

Of course, there was a third option, and that was to kneel and surrender.

Consequently, the Indians quickly polarized. Those at the back, exhausted from running, chose to sit down on the road en masse, laying down their guns—a long-lost tactic of passive resistance reemerged.

Meanwhile, Indians at the western end started boiling with frenzy and launched a crazed attack on the Pakistani line.

One side cold, the other ablaze; the choice between fighting or surrendering was made swiftly.

The Pakistani position seemed to awaken as gunshots rang out densely and instantly, while Indian tanks and armored vehicles charged forward recklessly, indifferent to the casualties.

What were the troops controlled by the Sanitation Worker Organization thinking?

Gao Yuan fell into deep confusion, unable to understand. Was the Sanitation Worker Organization planning to break through Pakistan’s lines by fighting on both fronts, with Shenzhou Army attacking from behind?

Where did this utmost confidence of the Indians controlled by the Sanitation Worker Organization towards Pakistan come from?

Gao Yuan began tossing grenades into the crowd of Indians charging forward with shouts, but he couldn’t charge against the Pakistani fire network. He had to detour.

Detouring might be an insurmountable task for others, but for Gao Yuan, a detour was just that, turning a straight line into a curve, nothing more.

Making a big arc to the north, Gao Yuan chose the northern end of the city to enter Gilgit, a place the Indians couldn’t possibly attack. He didn’t forget he was wearing Indian military uniform, so he paused, cut open the uniform with his knife, and carelessly tore off the shredded garment and tossed it aside.

Bare-chested, Gao Yuan ran swiftly, leaping high into the air, gliding for over thirty meters before softly landing on top of a sentry bunker.

Having landed gently, he walked up to a soldier with a full beard whose eyes were filled with terror, grabbed the barrel of the soldier’s gun and raised it—while bullets caused chunks of concrete to fall from the ceiling of the bunker, he shouted, "I’m from Shenzhou! Look carefully, Shenzhou People!"