lerbook Chapter 44: Building an Iron Torrent of Independent Armored Brigades and Directly Subordinate Heavy
Chapter 44: Building an Iron Torrent of Independent Armored Brigades and Directly Subordinate Heavy
When Mo Huixin arrived, Chen Zijun was standing in front of the sand table smoking.
She wore a plain-colored cheongsam and carried a thick stack of account books in her arms. Upon seeing the dense array of red flags on the sand table, she paused.
But it only lasts for a moment.
"Young Master."
Her voice was steady when she spoke, completely unlike how she had rushed over from outside. "You told me to bring the bills."
Chen Zijun stubbed out his cigarette and turned around.
"sit."
Mo Huixin didn't sit down. She opened the ledger to the first page and read the numbers aloud.
"As of yesterday, the global shipments of sulfonamides have generated a total of £8.37 million. Of this, £5.2 million came from the European market alone, £1.6 million from North America, and £1.57 million from Southeast Asia and South America combined. After deducting costs and distribution fees, the net profit is £6.91 million."
She turned to the second page.
"After the Battle of Wusongkou, major foreign firms in the Shanghai concessions collectively 'showed goodwill.' Thirty-two British trading companies, represented by HSBC, voluntarily deposited their working capital, totaling £2.14 million, with our China Merchants Bank. Banque de l'Indochine also transferred £700,000. Add to that £430,000 from Citibank in the United States..."
"Don't bother with the odd amounts," Chen Zijun interrupted her. "What's the total?"
Mo Huixin closed the ledger.
"As of four o'clock this morning." She looked up, staring directly into Chen Zijun's eyes. "Disposable cash flow: £12,176,891."
Shen Li nearly dropped the teacup in his hand.
Twelve million pounds.
What does this number mean? The entire cost of building a state-of-the-art Queen Elizabeth-class super-dreadnought battleship in the British Empire is only £2.4 million. Chen Zijun has enough cash to build five!
But Chen Zijun had no intention of building a ship.
He wanted to create something else entirely.
"Huixin." His voice suddenly changed, from calm to a deep, oppressive tone that Mo Huixin was extremely familiar with. "I need to spend money."
Mo Huixin's eyes sharpened instantly.
"How many?"
"Prepare a cash withdrawal limit of ten million for me first."
Ten million.
When this number hit her, even Mo Huixin's breath hitched. But she didn't ask about its purpose, the reason, or even frown.
"Yes."
She closed the ledger, turned and walked away. She stopped at the door, then turned back.
"Young Marshal, Huixin has only one request."
"explain."
"After you've finished spending the money... let me see what I've gained."
Chen Zijun smiled.
"You'll see it. The whole of Asia will see it."
That night. The abandoned warehouse No. 5 of the Longhua Road Garrison Command.
Three months ago, Mo Huixin acquired this warehouse from the French Concession under the pretext of purchasing scrap steel. The surrounding walls were raised by three meters, and camouflage netting was erected on top. A platoon of German-equipped infantrymen is stationed at the entrance year-round.
No one except Chen Zijun has the right to enter.
Two o'clock in the morning.
Chen Zijun walked into the warehouse alone and slammed the iron door shut behind him.
The warehouse was empty, with only a few piles of dusty wooden crates.
He raised his hand.
A semi-transparent system panel popped up.
[Land Warfare Heavy Firepower Zone]
Every line of text on the redemption list is glowing.
二号坦克C型。20mmKwK30机关炮主武装，正面装甲30mm，时速40公里。单价：12，000英镑/辆。
Chen Zijun's finger landed on this line, and he pressed it heavily.
Quantity: 30.
£360,000 vanished in an instant.
The numbers on the panel jumped wildly for a few seconds, then a dull metallic clanging sound echoed from the depths of the warehouse. The disguised wooden crates seemed to be forced open from the inside by some force, and one after another, brand-new gray steel behemoths materialized from nothingness.
Thirty vehicles. A full thirty vehicles.
The unfinished paint on the iron cross gleamed coldly in the dim light.
Chen Zijun did not stop.
105mmleFH18型榴弹炮。射程10，675米，弹重14.81公斤。单价：8，500英镑/门（含炮车与首批弹药基数）。
Quantity: 36. Two full-strength heavy artillery regiments.
£306,000. Deducted.
150mmsFH18型重榴弹炮。射程13，325米，弹重43.5公斤。单价：22，000英镑/门。
Quantity: 12. One independent heavy artillery battalion.
£264,000. Deducted.
37mm Pak36 anti-tank gun. Unit price: £3,200 per gun.
Quantity: 48.
81mm GrW34 mortar. Unit price: £1,800/mortar.
Quantity: 72.
His fingers moved faster and faster.
MG42 general purpose machine gun. Rate of fire: 1200 rounds per minute. Unit price: £680.
Nickname: "Cloth Tearer".
Chen Zijun paused for a second.
In his past life, he was a military enthusiast and knew what this thing meant in another time and space. When Allied soldiers heard the sound of the MG42, their first reaction was not to return fire, but to drop to the ground. Because the bullets it fired were so dense that the human ear could no longer distinguish individual gunshots, leaving only a continuous "hissing" tearing sound.
That's why it's called a "cloth tearing machine".
Quantity: 200.
Each infantry squad is equipped with two.
£136,000. A small amount.
Then there's the ammunition.
20,000 rounds of 105mm artillery shells. 8,000 rounds of 150mm artillery shells. 5 million rounds of 7.92mm rifle and machine gun ammunition. 100,000 rounds of 20mm machine gun ammunition. 30,000 hand grenades.
The total price of the ammunition was more expensive than the weapon itself.
£4.7 million.
Chen Zijun watched the numbers on the panel plummet rapidly.
From twelve million... fell below ten million... fell below eight million...
It eventually stopped at 5.17 million.
Total cost: nearly seven million pounds.
He looked around.
The warehouse was no longer a warehouse. It had become a steel jungle. Thirty Panzer II tanks were lined up neatly in three rows, their gun barrels all pointing towards the gate. Ammunition boxes were stacked along the walls on both sides, and disassembled howitzers and anti-tank guns were piled up in the open space in the middle.
The entire assets of an entire heavy armored regiment and two heavy artillery regiments.
Chen Zijun took a deep breath.
That's enough.
The next morning.
When Zang Keping received the order and rushed to Warehouse No. 5, it was just dawn.
He thought the young marshal was going to show him some new battle map.
Then the iron gate opened.
Zang Keping froze on the spot.
He had served in the army for twenty years. He had fought his way up from the late Qing Dynasty to the Beiyang era, and had seen all kinds of battles. But he had never seen anything like this in his life.
Thirty tanks.
This isn't one of those small, metal boxes with only a machine gun like the Panzer I tanks used in Taicang. This is a real, heavy battle tank equipped with a 20mm autocannon!
There were also howitzers. Row after row. 105mm, 150mm, the barrels were so thick you could fit a fist inside!
There were also machine guns. Crates and crates of them. The barrels were shorter than the MG34's, but the feeding systems were completely different.
"This...this..."
Zang Keping's mouth remained open for a long time, unable to close it.
Chen Zijun leaned against the side of a Panzer II tank, his arms crossed over his chest.
Do you recognize these things?
"Tank number two...?" Zang Keping's voice trembled. He walked to the nearest one and reached out to touch the turret. The cold touch of the steel plate shot straight to his brain from his fingertips.
it is true.
"And this too." Chen Zijun picked up a strangely shaped machine gun from the ammunition box. "MG42. Rate of fire is 1200 rounds per minute. Twice as fast as the MG34 you're using now."
Zang Keping gasped sharply.
1200 rounds? One minute?
His men are currently using the MG34, which already boasts a top-tier rate of fire for its time. But the MG42 doubles that? Is that still a machine gun? It's a lawnmower!
"Young Marshal!"
Zang Keping suddenly knelt down on one knee. It wasn't a military salute; he was genuinely kneeling.
"I won't ask where these things came from. I'll only ask one question."
He raised his head, his eyes bloodshot.
"Are these lumps of iron for my use?"
Chen Zijun smiled.
"Within three days, I want you to incorporate all of these into the independent armored brigade and the directly subordinate heavy artillery regiment. The personnel will be drawn from the 10th Division. If there aren't enough men, send a telegram to my father and have him draw from the 4th Division. The tank crews only need the veterans from Taicang who have fought in actual combat. After three days, you will be on the front lines in Changzhou."
Zang Keping suddenly stood up and snapped to attention with a military salute.
"Young Marshal, rest assured! With these iron lumps here, Zhang Jialiang's 100,000 men won't even be able to touch our metal!"
He turned and walked away, his steps so fast he almost tripped over the ammunition box.
Chen Zijun watched his figure disappear through the warehouse door, then turned to look at the remaining numbers on the system panel.
£5.17 million.
Given the huge profits that sulfonamides are generating every day, prices could rise even further by the time war breaks out.
He was talking to himself.
"Zhang Jialiang, do you think you're leading an army of 100,000?"
"No. What you're carrying is a hundred thousand mobile human-shaped target."
At the same time. Thirty miles north of Changzhou.
Zhang Jialiang's advance party has already set up camp.
Tents stretched for miles, one after another. Supplies brought by forty-seven military trains were piled up like mountains. Type 38 rifles were polished to a gleaming shine, 75mm field guns were lined up in a row, and twelve French-made Renault FT tanks were kept in pristine condition by White Russian mercenaries.
Zhang Jialiang stood on the makeshift observation platform, looking south through binoculars.
"Reporting to the young marshal! The advance reconnaissance company reports that no signs of the main force of the Chen family army gathering have been found within fifty miles to the south. There are only a small number of sentries active in the direction of Liyang."
Zhang Jialiang put down his binoculars, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"See that, Old Yang? Chen Zijun doesn't dare to leave the city at all."
Yang Yuting still frowned. "Young Marshal, the lesson learned from Zhao Duzi's six thousand cavalry at Luoyan Valley..."
"Old Yang."
Zhang Jialiang turned his head, his tone already showing signs of impatience. "Zhao Duzi's cavalry brigade has wandered into a minefield they've laid. Now, with my 100,000 troops advancing head-on, even if he fills the entire Jiangsu province with mines, he can't stop my artillery!"
He patted the railing of the observation deck.
"Pass down the order. Tomorrow, the entire army will continue its southward advance. I want to see what Chen Zijun can use to stop my 100,000 iron hooves!"
What he didn't know was.
At that moment, in the darkness at the edge of his vision, thirty steel behemoths painted in gray camouflage were being loaded onto a flatbed train overnight.