Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

"Fire support! Fire support!"

The hysterical roar of the frontline commander came through the US military's walkie-talkie.

The vanguard of the 1st Cavalry Division, which had been battered and bruised, finally retreated in disarray to a high point called "Eagle's Beak" after leaving behind more than a dozen corpses and several burning jeeps.

The terrain here is treacherous, easy to defend and difficult to attack, and there are also several sturdy machine gun bunkers left over from the Japanese occupation period.

"As long as we hold this position, by daybreak our air force will bomb these damned Chinese to pieces!"

The U.S. Army major wiped the blood from his face, hid in the bunker, and cursed viciously.

He held binoculars in his hand, watching the movements below the mountain warily.

In his view, although the Chinese army was good at close combat, it lacked heavy firepower. To take down such a bunker, one would either have to sacrifice lives or push those cumbersome mountain guns up for direct fire.

"If they dare to show their faces, give them a good beating with heavy machine guns!"

The major gritted his teeth and gave the order.

however.

He did not witness the massive human wave charge he had imagined.

The area below the mountain was quiet, with only the sound of the wind blowing through the pine forest.

"What happened? They left?"

Just as the major was puzzled...

It is located in a secluded mountain valley two kilometers away from Eagle's Beak.

Lei Gong sat cross-legged on a rock, a pipe dangling from his mouth, just sucking on it without lighting it.

In front of him was a mortar that looked rather "delicate".

The barrel is longer and thinner than a regular mortar, and there is a strange little box on the base with several knobs and a dial.

This is a 60mm light mortar (modified version) specially developed by Shen Jinghong for the Volunteer Army's mountain warfare.

"Dad Lei, distance 2100 meters, wind speed level 3, what's the correction factor?"

The young soldier next to him was holding a rangefinder and nervously reporting the data.

"What's the rush?"

Lei Gong slowly spat out his pipe, and his large, calloused hand twisted the small box a few times.

"Click, click."

A crisp mechanical meshing sound rang out.

That little box is actually a simple mechanical ballistic computer. As long as you input the distance, wind speed, and elevation difference, it can automatically calculate the elevation angle and direction of the gun muzzle with astonishing accuracy.

"Elevation angle 63°, direction corrected to the left by two mils."

Lei Gong squinted with one eye, looking through the optical sight on the cannon at the faintly visible firing port of the bunker in the distance.

"Director Shen calls this thing a 'cannonball with eyes'."

He grinned, revealing a mouthful of large, yellow teeth:

"Let's test it out and see if these eyes really are bright."

"Load!"

"Bang!"

A mortar shell with tail fins slid into the gun barrel.

"Pass--!"

A soft sound.

A faint burst of fire shot from the muzzle, and the shell traced a high parabola before disappearing into the dark night sky.

There were no test shots.

There was no calibration.

The very first shot was a live round!

A U.S. Army major was lying in front of the firing port when he suddenly heard a sharp whistling sound coming from above.

"Incoming! (Fire!)"

He instinctively wanted to shrink back.

But it was too late.

The shell seemed to have eyes; it entered the firing port of the bunker, which was only the size of a washbasin, with perfect accuracy, without even the slightest deviation!

"boom--!!!"

A muffled thud.

Because the explosion occurred in a confined space, the sound was not loud, but the destructive power was devastating.

The entire bunker seemed to inflate like a balloon that had been blown up from the inside, and then all the observation and firing ports spewed out tongues of fire and black smoke.

The people inside didn't even have time to scream before they were instantly shattered into pieces by the intense heat and pressure.

"F**k! This can't be!"

The U.S. lieutenant in the neighboring bunker nearly popped his eyes out.

One shot, one kill?

Is that a mortar? That's a missile!

"It must have been a fluke! It must have been luck!"

The lieutenant desperately tried to reassure himself, "The Chinese don't have guns that accurate! Absolutely not!"

However, the next second.

"Pass--!"

Another soft sound.

The second shell arrived as expected.

This time, it struck the top of the second machine gun emplacement. It was reinforced with reinforced concrete, and ordinary mortar shells couldn't penetrate it.

However, the shell used by Lei Gong was equipped with high-energy explosives and a shaped charge armor-piercing warhead.

"boom!"

A flash of fire.

The sturdy top cover was instantly pierced as if it were made of paper, followed by a violent internal explosion.

"Oh my god!"

The remaining US troops completely collapsed.

This isn't a war; it's practically a roll call!

That unseen gunner was like someone wielding a giant sniper rifle, smashing their turtle shells one by one with each shot!

"Retreat! Retreat now!"

The U.S. Army major (if he hadn't died completely in the first bunker, or if his deputy had taken over) no longer cared about holding out. He grabbed the walkie-talkie and let out a desperate wail:

"This isn't a mortar! This is magic! They can use magic!"

"This is not scientific! This is absolutely not scientific!"

As he shouted, he smashed the priceless telescope to the ground, shattering it into pieces.

Down the mountain.

Lei Gong looked at the distant mountain belching black smoke and patted the cannon barrel with satisfaction.

"Hey, Director Shen's stuff is amazing!"

He put the pipe back in his mouth, his face beaming with smugness.

"When we used to fire cannons, it was like 'roughly aligning' the targets; now, it's like 'threading a needle'!"

"This war was damn well-fought!"

Just then, a head wearing a steel helmet poked out from a nearby snowdrift.

It was Wu Wanli.

He looked at the hilltop that had been blasted into silence, then at the Type 56 assault rifle in his arms that he had just thought was pretty awesome, and suddenly it didn't seem so appealing anymore.

"elder brother……"

He tugged at Wu Qianli's sleeve, his eyes filled with disbelief:

"Dad Lei is too amazing!"

Wu Qianli lay prone behind cover, preparing to give the order to charge.

Hearing this, he put away his binoculars, glanced back at his brother, and then looked down at the gun in his hand.

He just tested that gun.

Steady, accurate, and ruthless.

But compared to Lei Gong's mortar that can hit any target, it does seem... lacking?

"Brother, what do you mean...?"

Wu Wanli swallowed hard and asked in a low voice:

"Is our gun broken?"

"It's broken?" Wu Qianli was taken aback. "What's broken?"

"Why is it so quiet compared to Lei's cannon? And... and I feel like it exploded before I even got my aim right."

Wu Wanli scratched his head, looking conflicted.

"This battle was too easy. I hadn't even charged yet, and the enemy was gone."

"Wasn't it... a bit too much?"

Looking at his younger brother's smug expression, Wu Qianli couldn't help but slap him on the forehead.

"You brat! Trying to charge in, huh?"

"Don't rush! The best is yet to come!"

He jerked the bolt back, pointed at the chaotic American position, and roared:

"Everyone has it!"

"Charge! Capture them alive!"

"Let these foreign devils see for themselves that we not only have powerful cannons, but also powerful rifles!"