Go back in time and be a chaebol

Chapter 2475 Counterattack (First Update, Please Subscribe and Vote)
In the dim morning light, the runway of Beirut International Airport gleamed a cold, hard gray-white, like a steel strip polished by war. C-1 "Ox-Horse" transport planes roared to a stop, their massive engine exhaust spewing out scorching waves of air, kicking up dust and gravel from the ground.

The hatch opened, and the tracks of the VT2 main battle tank rolled across the tarmac. The friction sound of the rubber-coated tracks was clearly audible. Following closely behind were Warrior vehicles, the dust kicked up by their wheels spreading in the sunlight.

The entire airport was like a precisely operating war machine, with every gear meshing silently and efficiently—loading, unloading, scheduling, and assembling. Soldiers carried heavy equipment, walking hurriedly yet in an orderly manner, as if this bustling activity was just a part of their daily routine.

Over the past fifteen days, thousands of soldiers have been arriving from China every day, and a steady stream of heavy equipment has been transported here. The soldiers who originally arrived by civilian airliner with only light weapons have finally been upgraded to fully equipped and manned.

As heavy equipment continued to arrive in Beirut by air and sea, Corporal Ma Dekun was standing in a phone booth on a temporary training ground on the edge of the airport, making a satellite phone call to his family.

On the phone, his wife's laughter was still melodious, but her voice carried undisguised joy:
"...The children are asleep now. You can call earlier tomorrow. Your little sister said she misses you and that she loves you."

Their youngest daughter, Xiaomei, is only two years old. Hearing his daughter express her love and longing for him, Ma Dekun's lips unconsciously curved into a smile. He spoke gently:

"Tell them that Dad will be back soon, and tell my little sister that I love her too, and I'll call her a little earlier tomorrow."

Because each person only has 100 minutes of talk time per month, every call has to be timed precisely. Just as he hung up, a sharp, piercing whistling sound suddenly tore through the silence of the sky.

"Fire!" someone shouted.

Ma Dekun looked up abruptly, his heart clenching with immense fear. Several thin trails of smoke, like lightning, rapidly approached from the sky. Time seemed to stretch out, each second becoming incredibly long. He could even clearly see the trajectories of the rockets as they flew through the air. The soldiers on the training ground reacted swiftly, dropping to the ground or quickly seeking cover. However, the rockets were too fast, too fast to think, too fast to dodge.

"boom--!"

A deafening explosion rang out, followed by a second and a third.

A massive fireball rose into the camp, its scorching heatwave carrying debris and dust, sweeping out like a tsunami. Ma Dekun felt an irresistible force slam into his back, sending him flying and crashing heavily to the ground. His bulletproof vest absorbed most of the impact, but the violent shock still made his vision blur and his chest tighten, making it hard to breathe.

He struggled to lift his head, his vision blurred. The ringing in his ears from the explosion made him unable to hear anything. He could only see flames shooting into the sky and his comrades struggling in pain. The surroundings were in complete chaos, and he could vaguely hear his comrades' urgent shouts.

In the chaos, some people were calling out the names of their companions, some were checking their equipment, and others had already raised their rifles and were looking warily towards the outskirts of the airport.

Ma Dekun turned his head with difficulty and saw his comrade, who had just been training with him, lying on the ground. His bulletproof vest had been torn open at the shoulder by shrapnel, and blood was gushing out. Closest to the explosion, a soldier's helmet lay to the side, his face still showing lingering shock.

Ma Dekun's eyes searched with difficulty, a rifle in his hand, as he ran and shouted:

"Medic! We need a medic here!"

He saw a familiar figure lying on the ground not far away. It was his best friend, Corporal Zhao Yuansheng. Just a minute ago, Zhao Yuansheng had hung up the phone next to him, laughing and saying that after he finished his call, they would go to the airport club for a beer together.

Now he lies on the ground, clutching his neck, blood gushing out like a fountain from his neck.

Ma Dekun's heart sank, and he rushed over.

"A distant sound, a distant sound..."

With his hand covering Zhao Yuansheng's neck, he knew that the severed carotid artery couldn't be stopped from bleeding so easily. Zhao Yuansheng's eyes were wide open, his lips were moving slightly, and the light of life was slowly fading from his eyes.

"Medical soldiers, medical soldiers..."

He kept shouting, but there was no pulse. Zhao Yuansheng's eyes were still open, his face frozen with a trace of lingering resentment.

Ma Dekun felt as if something was blocking his throat; immense grief and anger overwhelmed him instantly. He gripped Zhao Yuansheng's cold hand tightly.

Meanwhile, inside an inconspicuous radar vehicle on the edge of the airport, radar operator Shao Qingyuan was intently focused on the screen. Suddenly, several unusually bright spots of light hurtled towards them from the northwest at extremely high speed, their trajectories steep and deadly.

"Unidentified high-speed target detected! Bearing 315, distance 7 kilometers, altitude 500 meters! ... It's a rocket, landing point... Damn it, they're aiming at us..."

Shao Qingyuan's voice carried a hint of barely perceptible tension, but his fingers tapped the keyboard with unusual steadiness. He quickly reported the data and simultaneously pressed the alarm button. A piercing alarm blared throughout the airport, but it was already too late.

"boom!"

The explosion came from afar, shaking the radar vehicle slightly. Shao Qingyuan's face turned deathly pale instantly. He listened to the shouts coming from the camp. A strong sense of self-reproach welled up in his heart; he wished he could turn back time.

"Target coordinates confirmed!..."

The radar's electronic computer completed complex ballistic calculations within milliseconds, transmitting the precise location of the enemy's rocket launch site to the artillery positions.

"Roger that!"

Inside the artillery position, the artillery company commander's voice was calm and decisive. "Target confirmed, open fire immediately!"

A dozen seconds later, the truck-mounted howitzers deployed around the airport roared into action. Torrents of fire spewed from their massive muzzles, and shells whistled into the distance. One, two, three… the trajectories of the shells wove a deadly web in the air, quickly covering the enemy's firing positions—or rather, the Syrian camp.

The military map clearly shows that it was a Syrian army camp, and it is highly likely that they launched the attack.
Ma Dekun knelt beside Zhao Yuansheng's body, listening to the distant sounds of artillery fire. The sound was no longer a threat, but a clarion call for revenge. He slowly stood up, wiping the dust and tears from his face, his eyes becoming unusually resolute.

He picked up the rifle from the ground, checked the magazine, then turned and walked toward the assembly point.

Zhao Yuansheng's death taught him—this is war.

He knew that on this day, the war began in a very special way.

When news of the attack on the airport reached the command ship "Shenshan" at sea, Gu Changchuan's brows immediately furrowed. This 62-year-old army general had once fired the first shot in Bastogne.

As a seasoned veteran, he almost instinctively realized that things weren't so simple. The Syrians weren't that bold.

"The drone has already transmitted footage from the scene."

The scene wasn't just about Beirut International Airport; it also showed the location of enemy artillery—which had been reduced to ruins.

The Syrian camp was reduced to ruins by the heavy shelling, but they did not surrender and immediately launched a counterattack after being shelled.

The footage transmitted from the drone shows flashes of gunfire and plumes of smoke from explosions.

"Sir, the Syrians have retaliated. Should we launch a further attack?"

Hearing his subordinate's question, Gu Changchuan turned his gaze to Major General Woodwater, the chief of staff beside him. This was a manifestation of the Allied forces; the SEA troops were not the only ones fighting here.

"General, I believe we must retaliate with the most resolute force and make those guys understand that any provocation will come at a price."

Major General Woodwater's tone carried the arrogance of the British, as well as their characteristic anger. After all, the terrorist attack had occurred in Britain, so this military operation in Lebanon was a matter of British pride.

He now sees Syria's provocations as nothing more than a demonstration, and he certainly knows how to respond to such provocations.

Nodding slightly, Gu Changchuan gave the order:
"Deploy drones and wipe them out completely!"

What followed was like a war in another world to Major General Woodwater and other British, Australian and Canadian officers. They saw footage taken by drones on their screens, and along with the crosshairs that appeared on the screens, the artillery that was still roaring was blown into the sky by missiles in the explosions.

In just a few dozen seconds, several cannons were destroyed by "Hellhound" missiles launched by drones, along with six T-55 tanks in the camp, which were reduced to burning scrap metal. After the artillery was destroyed, Syrian soldiers tried to escape.

On the screen, you could see Syrian soldiers crowding onto the vehicles one after another. As they jostled to get on, Major General Woodwater even pursed his lips and glanced at Colonel Tom beside him, who was also looking at the scene with the same astonished expression.

"They didn't attack immediately!"

“My God, he was waiting for them to get on the bus.”

Clearly, the drone pilots were waiting for these targets to board the vehicle before attacking them, so that they could wipe them out in one fell swoop—eliminating the most targets at the lowest cost.

The Syrian soldiers, however, were clearly unaware of this. As always, they just wanted to get out of this hellish place as quickly as possible to avoid more shells falling on their heads. They had no idea that there were other weapons besides artillery fire.

Perhaps they could escape the shelling zone by car, but they would inadvertently become targets.

"My God, this is the most deadly thing..."

As he finished speaking, the target drew closer, and a truck was blasted into the air by a violent explosion. It wasn't just one truck, but a dozen in succession. The Syrian soldiers who had been trying to leave by truck were blown to bits before they even understood what was happening.

When the smoke cleared, only wreckage remained on the battlefield. The remains of cars and tanks were emitting black smoke, and hundreds of corpses were scattered on the ground. Many more corpses were burning inside the cars and in the wreckage.

Seeing the scene unfold before them, the British, Australian, and Canadian officers present fell silent. Although they too were equipped with drones and used them to launch missiles and guided bombs, none of them had expected the war to turn out this way.

And so, silently and without warning, the enemies on the ground died before they could even see who they were or where they were.

Is this the war of the new era?

Feeling the gazes around him, Gu Changchuan turned his head and asked:
"What about our casualties?"

(End of this chapter)