lerbook Chapter 104 Ghostly Submarine!
Chapter 104 Ghostly Submarine!
[Unlimited Pay-to-Win System]
[Host: Chen Zijun]
Current military rank: Commander-in-Chief of the Allied Forces of the Five Southeast Provinces (Marshal-level)
[Currently available total funds: £325 million (+£1 per second, daily earning multiplier +50%)]
[Current Status: Level 1 Red Alert]
[Overview of troops under command]:
- Army: 1st German-equipped Division (Wusongkou Line), 2nd National Defense Army Division (Pudong), 3rd National Defense Army Division (Chongming Island), 4th National Defense Army Division (Jinshan Defense Line), Independent Armored Brigade (Mobile Reserve), German-equipped Heavy Artillery Brigade, Wusongkou Fortress, Tax Police Corps (Urban Security), Air Defense Brigade (88mm Artillery Positions throughout the City)
- Navy: First Special Submarine Squadron (7 U-boats, already out of port)
- 要塞：吴淞口永固要塞群（4门381mm岸防炮、2门380mm加农炮、4门356mm双联装舰炮改要塞岸防炮、4门280mm岸防炮、12门88mm高射炮，全部实弹装填）
……
Shanghai did not collapse.
At least it didn't collapse as everyone expected.
It was 5:30 in the morning, and the sky was still not fully light.
On the north bank of the Suzhou Creek, workers in Yangpu District had already crawled out of bed.
They didn't run south, nor did they rush to the dock to grab boat tickets.
Instead, they pushed wheelbarrows, carrying planks and sandbags, and headed towards Wusongkou.
A middle-aged man in greasy overalls was pushing a cart while cursing.
"Fuck those Japanese dwarfs! I almost got bombed to death by their bombs on Nanjing Road back then, and it was only thanks to Marshal Chen that we got our revenge. And now they're doing this again?"
He spat on his palm and gripped the handlebars tightly.
"This time, I'm not running away no matter what. If the young marshal wants to fight, I'll bring him artillery shells!"
A young man carrying sandbags next to him grinned.
"Uncle Liu, what's on your wheelbarrow?"
"Steel plates requisitioned by headquarters. For repairing fortifications."
The middle-aged man puffed out his chest.
"The Young Marshal issued a notice that anyone who participates in the construction of front-line fortifications will receive one silver dollar per day! Moreover, those who work for ten days will receive a special pass for their entire family, so that if a real war breaks out, they can retreat to the concession through a special air-raid shelter."
"Tsk tsk, a whole silver dollar!" The young man's eyes lit up. "The young marshal is damn generous!"
"When has the young marshal ever mistreated us?"
On the north bank of the Suzhou Creek, there were hundreds, even thousands, of people like this. Some were pushing wheelbarrows, some were carrying timber, and some were driving mule carts pulling barbed wire.
They are not soldiers, but their steps are more resolute than those of soldiers.
Because they knew that as long as Chen Zijun was still in Shanghai, the city would not fall.
……
Nanjing Road.
In front of Sincere Department Store.
A group of young people dressed in school uniforms were standing on a makeshift wooden platform, shouting at the top of their lungs.
"Fellow countrymen! The warships of the Japanese pirates are right at our doorstep!"
"But we are not afraid! Because we have Marshal Chen! We have the cannons of Wusongkou! We have hundreds of thousands of well-equipped German-trained divisions!"
"Let the Japanese come! Let them taste the iron fist of the Chinese!"
More and more citizens gathered to watch. Some applauded, some cursed the Japanese, and some even threw their coins into the donation box.
An old woman shakily squeezed out of the crowd, took out a pair of handmade cloth shoes with a thousand layers of soles from her bosom, and handed them to the students on the stage.
"Son, give this to the soldiers at the front. Tell them that when they come back victorious, I'll make them a hundred pairs!"
The student's eyes reddened as he took the cloth shoes and held them above his head.
"Fellow countrymen, do you see this? This is the backbone of the Chinese people! This is what Marshal Chen said—'With four million people united, even a million warships cannot set foot in Shanghai!'"
The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers.
at the same time.
Wusongkou Fort Complex.
The barrels of more than a dozen fortress coastal defense cannons with a diameter of over 300 millimeters slowly rose in the morning light, like four steel pillars of judgment, pointing eastward at the horizon where enemy ships might emerge at any moment.
The 88mm anti-aircraft gun positions of the air defense brigade were all covered with camouflage netting, making them look like ordinary farmland from the air.
The cables for the searchlights have all been connected, and the forty-six high-powered searchlights can illuminate the sea surface thirty kilometers outside Wusongkou as if it were daytime.
Yang Yanzhao stood on the observation platform of Fortress No. 1, holding up his binoculars and looking eastward.
There was nothing on the sea.
But he knew that beneath the seemingly calm surface of the sea, an even more terrifying storm was brewing.
……
At the same time.
East China Sea. 40 meters underwater.
Three Type VII U-boats and four U-93 submarines lined up in a single file, gliding silently in the dark depths of the sea.
There were no lights. There was no sound. Even the diesel engines were turned off, and everything was switched to battery power to minimize noise.
The pilot ship was Heinrich's flagship, numbered U-01.
Heinrich stood in the command cabin, his hands behind his back, his blue eyes fixed on the nautical chart in front of him.
Beside him, the sonic soldier, wearing headphones, remained motionless.
"Reporting, Captain." The sonar operator's voice was extremely low. "Bearing 035, distance approximately 6,000 meters, significant propeller noise detected."
"quantity?"
"At least... more than twenty. These include low-frequency propeller acoustic signatures from heavy ships."
Heinrich's pupils contracted slightly.
More than twenty.
That must be the First Overseas Expeditionary Fleet of the Japanese Combined Fleet.
"Diving depth?"
"Forty meters, stable."
"Continue to sail in complete silence. Reduce speed to three knots."
Heinrich turned around and picked up the communication tube.
"Attention, all. I am Heinrich."
His voice rang out simultaneously on the communication systems of the seven submarines.
"Target confirmed. 6,000 meters away. We will approach the 1,500-meter attack position at a depth of 30 meters underwater and a speed of 3 knots."
"No one may make any sound before I give the order. Not even a cough."
"From this moment on, we are ghosts."
The seven steel behemoths silently adjusted their course in the deep sea, like seven silent black shadows, slowly approaching their prey.
……
East China Sea. Sea surface.
The battleship Hyuga, flagship of Japan's First Overseas Fleet. (Bridge)
Yamaguchi Tamon stood in front of the chart table, holding a cup of sake in his hand.
He had just received a commendation telegram from the Tokyo headquarters, praising him for completing the fleet assembly in a very short time and successfully exerting "unbearable military pressure" on China.
"General," the chief of staff stepped forward. "The troop transport ships have all assembled. Sixty-two transport ships, carrying a total of 46,000 soldiers from the 2nd and 4th Guards Divisions. They are expected to complete assembly tomorrow and are ready to swiftly occupy Shanghai once the enemy makes contact with the city's forces!"
"Hmm." Yamaguchi Tamon nodded and took a sip of sake.
"What about anti-submarine warfare?"
The chief of staff smiled.
"General, even if the Chinese have submarines, how many can they possibly have? Last time, they only succeeded because of a surprise attack. With a fleet of our size, no submarine can stand aside. They can't even build decent destroyers. Our anti-submarine destroyers are all deployed on the periphery, but to be honest, this is more out of regulatory requirements than due to actual threat."
Yamaguchi Tamon remained silent for a few seconds.
He was not one to let arrogance cloud his judgment. But the intelligence at hand did not support any pessimistic conclusions.
China has submarines.
This was the unanimous conclusion of the entire Japanese naval intelligence department.
However, they also determined that the number would not be large, at most one, and that the stockpile of torpedoes should already be insufficient for combat.
"How is the blackout enforcement on the troop transport ships going?"
The chief of staff hesitated for a moment.
"Well... with so many soldiers on board, a complete blackout would be difficult to enforce."
Yamaguchi Tamon frowned, but ultimately said nothing.
It's just China.
Even if they see it, so what?
Their shore artillery can't reach this area. Their torpedo boats can't get this far.
And submarines?
Hehe...Isn't this what I've been doing on over a dozen destroyers?
Yamaguchi Tamon put down his wine glass and walked to the porthole.
In the darkness, the lights of more than twenty warships resembled a winding fire dragon, covering the entire sea surface.
Spectacular.
It can also be fatal.
Because directly beneath those lights lies an abyss less than 1,500 meters from the dragon bones.
Seven black shadows are silently baring their fangs.
……
Thirty meters underwater.
U-07. Hans Brandt's command center.
Hans lay face down in front of the periscope, his right eye pressed against the eyepiece.
The periscope slowly rose, piercing the surface of the sea.
He saw it.
A massive shape filled the entire field of vision.
It was an old-fashioned Fusō-class battleship.
Yamashiro number.
The steel behemoth, weighing over 30,000 tons, was brightly lit and moored behind the troop transport fleet, without even a torpedo net deployed.
A slow smile crept across Hans's lips.
During the Battle of Jutland, he survived a full seventeen hours of intense gunfire from British battleships.
This unsuspecting behemoth was a million times dumber than the British battleships of that time.
"distance?"
"1,400 meters."
"course?"
"Target heading 090, speed 8 knots. Perfect cross-fire angle."
Hans took a deep breath and firmly gripped the two levers of the torpedo launch controller with both hands.
His blue eyes gleamed with a primal, bloodthirsty light in the dimly lit command cabin.
That was the hunter's last second before pulling the trigger.
"Pipe number one, pipe number two."
His voice was as cold as if it came from a grave.
"emission!"