Courtyard House: I fish in the heavens, a professional bird abuser.

A biting wind howled across the foothills of the Greater Khingan Mountains, casting a somber gray hue over everything in the world.

On the border of Manzhouli, the atmosphere was as frozen as the icy land.

The armored formations of the Soviet Far Eastern Front, like a gray ocean of steel, stretched overwhelmingly along the border. They were Marshal Zhukov's pride, one of the largest land forces on the planet at present.

Hundreds of T-34 tanks, guns raised, chugged their tracks over the frozen ground with a sickening "click-clack" sound. Behind them stretched an endless line of infantry, their red flags fluttering in the cold wind.

The stench, a mixture of diesel engine exhaust, gun fumes, and the sweat of hundreds of thousands of people gathered together, was particularly pungent in the cold air.

"For the Soviets! Hurrah!"

On the other side of them, there was only a narrow boundary river.

A short, black steel defensive line stood there.

That was the vanguard force composed of the "Dragon Fang" First Mechanized Combined Arms Corps.

In terms of numbers, they were at a significant disadvantage. The enemy was an army-sized force pressing in, a steel torrent that was fearsome even on the European battlefield.

On the other hand, this force consisted of only a reinforced regiment.

But in terms of sheer presence, those one hundred quietly lurking "Apocalypse" tanks resembled a hundred ancient, primordial beasts.

They were so quiet.

It was so quiet that it didn't even seem like a product of this era.

The vehicle body is covered with special composite armor that can absorb radar waves and light, and does not reflect any light under the winter sun, like black holes that can devour everything.

The wide tracks sank deep into the snow, without making a chaotic roar like Soviet tanks. The engine maintained an extremely low idle speed. Just by standing there, the overwhelming sense of oppression made the Soviet tank crew opposite feel a strange sense of unease.

That is the instinctive fear that organisms feel when facing apex predators.

Double-barreled!

An absurdly large 125mm smoothbore main gun!

There's also the heavy armor that almost crushes the ground, and the low, futuristic turret that's so smooth it's like a mirror, with not a single rivet in sight!

"Comrade Marshal, the troops ahead report that... those tanks look very strange."

In the Soviet front-line command post, a major general put down his binoculars, his voice was a little dry, and a fine layer of cold sweat seeped from his forehead.

The sight of those unidentified black chariots in the telescope's field of vision gave him a terrible feeling, as if the whole world would collapse if they moved.

Zhukov snorted and slammed his pipe heavily on the table.

Sparks from the pipe flew out and scorched a small black dot on the map.

"Something's not right? What's wrong with it? That's just a toy the Chinese use to scare people!"

His voice, filled with disdain, echoed in the warm command tent.

"They've only been industrializing for a few days! Even those so-called factories nowadays have only sprung up like mushrooms after rain in the last few years. What kind of tanks can they produce? At most, they'll just weld a few thick iron plates onto those few wrecked tanks they captured from somewhere!"

Zhukov walked up to the map, waved his hand as if he had already grasped the land in his hands.

"I admit, they fought well at Shanhaiguan. They even achieved some victories in the south. But comrades, that was against the Japanese! Those Japanese tanks were like paper! Even our trucks could overturn them!"

"Who are they facing now? The great Red Army! The steel torrent that has just defeated the invincible German fascists and tore the Nazi monster to pieces!"

Zhukov suddenly stood up, his overcoat billowing as he did so, a glint of arrogance and greed flashing in his eyes.

This battle is not just about that damn negotiating table.

It was also a test.

If the other side really has some secret weapon, he can take the opportunity to destroy it. If the other side is just bluffing and is easily defeated, he wouldn't mind heading south.

Even if it doesn't really come to a head, as long as this steel torrent crosses the border river and rolls around on the fertile black soil of Northeast China, the future ownership of this land will have to be rewritten on the map of Soviet sphere of influence!

"Pass on my order! The 5th Guards Tank Brigade, as the vanguard, will conduct 'reconnaissance'!"

His tone was icy, without the slightest hesitation.

"If anyone gets in your way, just... run them over!"

"Let that arrogant He Yuanchao know that, in the face of real steel production volume, all his fancy tricks and elaborate schemes are nothing but a laughable joke!"

"yes!"

The messenger saluted, turned, and ran out of the tent.

……

"Boom—!!!"

As three striking red signal flares pierced the gray sky, the deafening roar of engines echoed across the Soviet positions.

The sound was like muffled thunder rumbling from the ground.

The earthquake trembled.

The snow was shaken and fell in a flurry.

More than a hundred T-34/76 tanks, spewing thick black diesel exhaust fumes and kicking up large chunks of mud and snow with their tracks, rushed madly toward the other side of the border river like a black flood bursting its banks.

The visual impact of that mass charge was truly astonishing.

Anyone living in this era, upon seeing this torrent of steel, will feel a sense of despair and powerlessness.

However, inside He Yuanchao's command vehicle.

This mobile command center, converted from a heavy infantry fighting vehicle, is filled with the hum of modern electronic instruments.

On the high-definition tactical screen, countless red dots are being marked in real time using an infrared and thermal imaging system.

He Yuanchao's face remained completely expressionless.

Even his crisp military uniform was perfectly wrinkle-free.

He simply picked up the enamel teacup in front of him with elegant and composed movements, blew on the floating tea leaves, and took a small sip.

The aroma of tea filled the carriage, which was filled with the smell of electronic devices.

"Brother Yunlong."

He put down his teacup, his voice as calm as if he were chatting casually.

"exist!"

Li Yunlong's excited, slightly distorted voice immediately came through the walkie-talkie, and the distinctive hydraulic sound of an automatic loader could be heard in the background.

"The polar bear has extended its claws."

He Yuanchao looked at the strings of data on the screen, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

"They seem to think that our twin-barreled cannon is just for show, a scary paper doll."

"Since it's a 'power reconnaissance,' let's show them what...real power is, what epoch-making despair is."

"Pass on my orders."

He pressed the full-band communication button.

"Tianqi Battalion, release fire control lock, free fire."

"Don't conserve ammunition. I don't want to see any of the enemy's tracks still able to move after this offensive."

"I want them to know... who really calls the shots in this era!"

"Alright! Just you wait and see! I've been holding it in for ages!"

Li Yunlong laughed loudly on the other end of the line, then threw down the walkie-talkie.

He suddenly emerged from the command tower of the "Apocalypse" tank, numbered 001. The cold wind lashed his rough face like a knife, but he felt a surge of heat throughout his body.

He grabbed the car's loudspeaker, and the sound, carried by the radio waves and through the air, exploded wildly across the entire channel and the battlefield:

"Those damn polar bears! They think we're pushovers!"

"Brothers of the First Battalion! Listen up!"

"Who are we? We're Dragon Fang! Show us the ruthlessness we've been training with!"

"That Advisor He said! Free fire! Shoot however you want! If anyone misses, don't blame me for training them, I can't afford to lose face!"

"Get those black-smoking, gray-skinned rats back to their scrap parts!"

"Fire—!!!"

With this command given.

The world seemed to stand still.

Followed by.

"Boom! Boom!"

There was none of the noise and chaos of thousands of cannons firing simultaneously that I had imagined.

The twin-mounted 125mm modified smoothbore guns of the "Apocalypse" tank produce a sound completely different from the sharp cannon sound of the T-34.

It was a deep, short, yet terrifying growl that resonated in the chest!

It was as if the ancient thunder god had struck a war drum heavily from the clouds!

The muzzle brakes ejected two transparent shockwaves that were almost invisible to the naked eye, followed by bursts of orange-red flames!

next second.

A miracle, or rather... a supernatural miracle for the Soviet army, occurred.

The T-34 tanks at the very front were still a full two kilometers away from here.

Two kilometers!

In the tank warfare textbooks of this era, this is an absolutely safe distance. Tank engagements usually take place at a brutal dogfight distance of 800 meters, or even 400 meters. At a distance of 2,000 meters, the target appears as just a small black dot with existing optical sights, and hitting it is entirely a matter of luck.

The Soviet tank crews looked relaxed; they hadn't even had time to look for their target through their scopes or see the muzzle flash of the enemy guns.

Death had already arrived.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

A series of dull, cracking sounds, like heavy hammers striking rotten wood, rang out in the Soviet charging formation!

That was a specially made long-rod fin-stabilized discarding sabot armor-piercing projectile (APFSDS), with a core made of depleted uranium alloy. With a terrifying initial velocity of 1800 meters per second, more than five times the speed of sound, it tore through the air and instantly crashed into the T-34's proud sloped armor!

The T-34's sloped armor once rendered German 37mm and 50mm shells unable to slide off.

But in the face of modern kinetic energy penetrators, that thick layer of steel armor is as fragile as a piece of freshly baked butter!

It was like a rifle bullet piercing through a soaked cardboard sheet!

There is no suspense!

There are no obstacles!

There weren't even any ricochets!

The enormous kinetic energy carried by the projectile core is transformed into unimaginable heat and impact force at the moment of contact.

Those T-34s that were hit did not even experience an external explosion in the traditional sense.

Instead, in an instant, it felt like being ripped out from the inside by an invisible giant hand!

The turret, like a cork being pulled from a wine bottle, was instantly hurled more than ten meters high by the immense internal pressure, tumbling through the air and crashing heavily onto the hard frozen ground, carrying the still-spinning machine gun turret with it!

It turned into half a burning piece of scrap metal!

And inside the vehicle.

The Soviet tank crews inside didn't even have a chance to scream.

Under the sweeping force of a metal jet at thousands of degrees Celsius and high pressure, flesh and steel are fused together and instantly vaporized!

Only clusters of flames, appearing exceptionally vibrant in the extreme cold, remained, burning fiercely amidst the wreckage of the tanks.

"Wh...what?!"

The commander of the T-34 following closely behind stared in horror, his microphone slipping from his hand without him noticing.

Through the narrow observation hole, he saw his comrade's tank in front of him instantly turn into a pile of burning torches, and he was completely dumbfounded.

Cold sweat instantly soaked his back, freezing into a cold, sticky substance in the chilly carriage.

Two thousand meters?! How is that possible?!

"Even the German Tiger tank couldn't hit that accurately! And this is while moving and firing?!"

"What kind of cannon is this? My God, this is the devil's weapon!"

Panic began to spread across the radio channels.

But there was no time to instill fear in them, nor time for them to adjust their tactics.

Before he could react...

The second wave of attacks has begun!

The fully automatic loader of the "Apocalypse" tank is an incomprehensible piece of black technology in an era that relies entirely on manual loading.

The robotic arm operates tirelessly.

Less than five seconds had passed.

"Boom! Boom!"

It was that same dull, rumbling sound that made your heart stop!

This time, it's a two-pronged attack!

This means that each "Apocalypse" bomb unleashed two deadly rounds at the Soviet troops within five seconds!

The train conductor's vision was instantly engulfed by a blinding flash of fire.

He felt as if he had been stuffed into an iron barrel and then kicked hard by a giant.

Consciousness plunged into darkness in an instant.

Just one minute!

Only sixty seconds!

That once imposing Soviet Guards Tank Brigade, seemingly poised to devour the heavens and earth, with its more than one hundred tanks symbolizing Soviet glory.

Like a wheat field ravaged by a combine harvester, they all fell down in unison on the road to victory!

Or it could be an internal ammunition detonation, causing it to explode into fragments!

Or it could structurally disintegrate, turning into a pile of unrecognizable ruins!

Or they might transform into enormous torches spewing flames, burning brilliantly in this icy wasteland!

The entire battlefield was littered with burning debris, and thick black smoke blotted out the sun, completely blocking out the winter sunlight.

The previously noisy engine noise disappeared.

All that remained were the crackling sounds of burning and the faint, distant sounds of heated ammunition exploding.

Meanwhile, on the Chinese side of the battlefield...

Those pitch-black "Apocalypse" tanks didn't even budge their tracks from beginning to end.

They remained there quietly, their cannons still pointing forward, wisps of smoke rising from them.

Like a group of indifferent death gods, after casually reaping the lives of countless ants, they idly wipe the blood off their scythes.

Dead silence.

Absolute silence.

Whether on the battlefield strewn with corpses or in the Soviet command post a few kilometers behind.

Everyone was completely stunned by this horrific scene.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment.

The expensive Zeiss telescope in Zhukov's hand fell to the ground with a "thud," the lens shattering into pieces with a crisp sound.

The sound was particularly jarring in the deathly silent command post.

But he didn't care at all.

His once powerful hands, which had commanded thousands of troops, were now trembling violently.

His face went from flushed to deathly pale in an instant.

Those were... over a hundred tanks!

It's the 5th Guards Brigade, forged in the bloody Battle of Kursk! A battle-hardened elite force!

I didn't even get a shred of his hair!

Not even a single shell could reach the other side of the border river!

...Just like that, it's all gone?!

He could accept it if he was ambushed or if it meant mutual destruction.

But this was a direct confrontation, right under his nose, and he was being slaughtered like a chicken or a dog, a one-sided massacre!

"This...this is a massacre..."

"This is not a battle...this is a massacre...an outright massacre..."

The chief of staff next to him was as pale as a sheet, his lips trembled, his eyes stared blankly ahead, his legs went weak, and he collapsed to the ground, not even noticing that his military cap had fallen off.

"What kind of monster are we facing?"

"Are we fighting a bunch of aliens?"

However, this is only the prelude.

The real nightmare has not even begun.

"Buzz—!!!"

Suddenly, a strange noise came from above the clouds.

That was the hum of a propeller plane, completely different from what the Soviet army was used to.

Instead, it was a sharp, piercing, terrifying shriek, like metal tearing through the air!

It's like a swarm of hell bees leaving their hive!

Zhukov suddenly looked up and rushed out of the command tent.

The cold wind was biting his face, but he felt nothing.

He was horrified to see countless silver-black lightning bolts hurtling down from within the thick, leaden-gray clouds!

They move at a dazzling speed and are so sharp they look like flying daggers!

It's a formation of "Dragon Sparrow" jet attack aircraft!

They weren't there to fight for air superiority; there were no enemy planes in the sky that could rival them.

They're here to... finish off the enemy!

It was an act that dealt the final blow to the Soviet people's morale!

One after another, "Dragon Sparrow" fighter jets, carrying specially made cluster bombs and heavy rocket launchers never seen before in this era, swooped down like the Grim Reaper, crashing into the ground with a piercing sonic boom!

"Whoosh whoosh whoosh—!!!"

A barrage of rockets, trailing long plumes of flame, rained down on the Soviet infantry assembly points like a storm!

In an instant, the earth shook!

Huge red and black mushroom clouds rose into the sky!

Special white phosphorus incendiary bombs and high-explosive cluster bombs exploded in the crowd!

Fire! A series of explosions! Heart-wrenching screams!

The once orderly infantry formation, those young soldiers who were ready to charge for the Soviets, were now transformed into wronged souls in a living hell!

Steel twisted, flesh and blood flew everywhere.

All courage becomes worthless in the face of an absolute technological gap!

"Retreat! Retreat now!!!"

Zhukov screamed hysterically, his voice cracking with extreme fear, filled with unprecedented terror and despair.

At this moment, on this northern battlefield, the heroic spirit of "I will crush everything" was no longer present in this Soviet war god.

All that remained was a dying struggle, like a wild beast caught in a trap.

He finally understood why the Americans chose to remain silent after the Korean War.

Why was the once-powerful Japanese Empire, which dominated Asia, utterly annihilated, leaving not even a trace of its bones?

This is not even a contest on the same level!

This is a completely unequal war!

This is a group of mortals who are recklessly challenging... a god who wields thunder!

……

Half an hour later.

The smoke from the battlefield had not yet dissipated, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of burning.

The command vehicle carrying He Yuanchao, covered in bulletproof armor, slowly drove to the front of the position with the gentle turning of its tracks, and stopped next to the wreckage of a T-34 turret that was still emitting blue smoke.

The car door opened.

He pushed open the car door, his military boots landing firmly on the ground.

The frozen ground beneath my feet was now radiating a faint warmth from the fierce bombardment that had just taken place—the lingering heat of melting steel and burning flesh.

Not far away is the boundary river.

It still flows quietly, but the river water has been stained gray by gunpowder smoke.

On the opposite bank of the river, tens of thousands of elite Soviet troops, who had once been invincible, were now fleeing in panic like startled birds.

The highway was crammed with abandoned trucks and cannons, and the soldiers were in disarray, their armor and weapons in disarray, and no one dared to look back.

Fear is ingrained in their very bones.

Li Yunlong emerged from Tank No. 001, covered in the smell of gunpowder and his face was covered in soot, like a miner who had just returned from digging coal. But his eyes were frighteningly bright, and his mouth was wide open, revealing a set of his signature white teeth.

He jumped off the tank, walked a few steps to He Yuanchao's side, and patted the armor plate of the high-tech vehicle hard.

"That was fucking awesome! So exhilarating! Absolutely amazing!"

"Old He! That cannon was so satisfying! You didn't see it, that one shot and that iron turtle on the other side was gone in a flash, like a rotten watermelon!"

At this point, he pursed his lips, his tone carrying a hint of lingering regret:

"These Russians are too weak, aren't they? They're the famous Imperial Guards, I thought they'd hold their own for a few rounds."

"It's not even as intense as the training we do for those greenhorns in our Independent Regiment! I barely finished warming up and they were already wetting their pants!"

He Yuanchao smiled, took out a high-powered telescope, and glanced at the red flag on the opposite bank that looked particularly desolate as the crowd hurriedly retreated.

His voice remained steady, carrying a sense of wisdom and experience that reflected a deep understanding of history.

"Brother Yunlong, they are not easily defeated."

"Without us, this army could have swept across the entire Eurasian continent."

He put down his binoculars, and his gaze became profound.

"They are just too arrogant, too immersed in the glory of the past for too long, thinking that the world will always follow the rules they are familiar with."

"They're still asleep, dreaming of a steel torrent engulfing everything."

"Now, this hard slap should really wake them up."

He turned around and spoke to the communications officer who had just gotten off the command vehicle, his tone instantly becoming incredibly authoritative—the aura of a true leader:

"Send a message to Zhukov. In plaintext."

"Tell him this is the first and last warning."

"If they still want to talk, send someone with a white flag to the bridge in the middle of the border river within three hours."

Let's talk about what respect is, and what boundaries are.

At this point, He Yuanchao's eyes suddenly narrowed, and an invisible killing intent emanated from his body:

"If you don't want to talk, then I don't mind continuing the firefight."

"Tell him that since he likes the steel torrent, then let's show him what 'Judgment Day' really means."

"Tell him to be prepared... if another Soviet tank dares to turn around..."

"I will turn Moscow into a sea of ​​fire like this!"

The communications officer paused, staring at the man's retreating figure, his admiration instantly turning into fervor: "Yes, Commander-in-Chief!"

As the sun sets, the afterglow is like blood.

In this cold northern border region.

He Yuanchao's shadow stretched long in the setting sun, like an insurmountable monument.

This is not just a victory in a border conflict.

This is the first time that the Chinese nation, after a century of humiliation and war, has, in the manner of an absolute superpower, trampled the powers that once divided the world under its feet!

From this moment on, the balance of power shifted.

That sleeping giant dragon of the East is no longer a sick man to be ridiculed.

It has already taken to the sky, and with its dragon breath, it has drawn a death line on the world map that no one can cross!