Chapter 16: Victory or Defeat (Part 2)

“Fire!”
Dozens of Spencer rifles roared in unison. Muzzle flashes erupted, and flames shot out. The Vietnamese troops lined up in formation across from them were cut down like wheat by a scythe—eight or nine soldiers fell instantly, blood spraying everywhere.
Amidst the smoke, Zheng Song immediately spotted those dozen riflemen, their guns aimed straight at him. “All of you, fire—”
By then, Liu Yu, like the other riflemen, ignored the burning sensation of spent shells hitting their faces. He quickly loaded his gun, pulled the trigger: “Fire!”
Another round of gunfire!
The Vietnamese troops were packed tightly together, making them perfect targets. Like cut wheat, over a dozen soldiers let out agonized cries.
Zheng Song heard clearly the sound of bullets hitting bodies. In disbelief, he saw that the enemy had already fired a second round without pause.
What kind of gun is this? So fast?
He wondered.
His team, considered the elite of the Haiyang garrison, was equipped only with a dozen Spencer rifles that could fire six or seven shots per minute.
This gun was too fast.
While he was still thinking, Liu Yu shouted, “Fire!”
Another burst of gunfire created a veritable wall of fire. Under the Spencer rifles’ assault, Vietnamese soldiers collapsed atop their comrades’ bodies.
Zheng Song was shocked. His side had hundreds of firearms, yet in just that instant, the number of bullets fired was less than those from the enemy’s dozen fast guns.
As for the ordinary Vietnamese troops, it was a nightmare. The riflemen across from them seemed to have enough ammunition to last a week; they could form a deadly fire wall right in front of the fortifications without even reloading.
“Fire!”
This time, all the Spencer riflemen roared together. There was no need to aim—the formation of over a hundred people right in front of them was the perfect target; even with eyes closed, they could hit.
Bullets flew into soldiers’ feet, knocking them to the ground and exposing those behind them. Remington rifles also fired relentlessly.
The Vietnamese troops fired desperately, but their combined firepower was still far weaker than the enemy’s, who had the advantage of fortifications. Ignoring the intense recoil and the smell of smoke, Liu Yu loaded his gun again: “Fire!”
The destructive power this time was no less than before. The once-thick formation was now almost completely shattered, with another layer of corpses piling up in front of the fortifications.
Amidst the corpses, there were many wounded soldiers screaming and moaning, “Save me!”
The Vietnamese troops saw a glimmer of hope—only to hear, “Fire!”
Dozens of muzzle flashes continued to tear through the formation. Deputy commander Zheng Song saw soldiers holding flags fall to the ground with a thud.
“Charge!” was the only order he could give, but the gunfire from his side became sporadic.
“Everyone! Fire!”
This time, the entire fortification echoed with the sound of gunfire.

This final volley wasn’t fired by fourteen Spencer rifles and four Remingtons, but by a full 160 muskets. Over a hundred bullets produced hundreds of projectiles. In front of the barricades, there were nothing but flying bullets—every corner brimmed with deadly threats, leaving no one a chance to survive. It wasn’t about tearing apart the enemy lines; it was about crushing them outright, without mercy. After a single salvo, not even half of the enemy forces remained. The command flag had long been buried under layers of corpses, and Deputy Commander Zheng also lay among them. Everyone was frantically loading their guns, but the enemy troops opposite them could wait no longer. This was their best chance to attack, yet they hesitated, abandoning everything they could—valuable breech-loading rifles, wounded comrades—even their underwear—before turning and fleeing as fast as they could. It was terrifying! Absolutely horrifying! Even the best elite soldiers were terrified by the enemy’s combat strength. Only the French troops in Haiyang and the Black Flag Army in Shanxi could match them. Before they could retreat far, another group of enemy troops emerged from the corner, dragging two small cannons and curiously observing the scene. “Don’t run!” Such threats were useless. Even if it meant charging into a bayonet charge, they would still go forward—they would never dare turn back to fight such terrifying enemies. “Don’t run! Fight back!” Ignoring the cries of their reinforcements, they turned and fled at top speed. After loading seven bullets, Liu Yu watched the enemy dragging two bronze cannons. They remained calm and didn’t do anything, suggesting they were tough to deal with. He then shouted, “Get ready!” Now, the reinforcements finally saw the horrifying scene before them. The entire street was covered in corpses, with countless limbs and bones scattered everywhere. Every inch of the street was stained red with blood. On the other side of the barricades were the enemies responsible for this nightmare. Yet they still dared not wake from this nightmare—the sight of so many dead bodies was too terrifying. They had never seen such a mass death in their lives. How many corpses were there? And from the piles of bodies came groans: “Save me! I can’t take it anymore!” What to do? They saw a seemingly young enemy leader already climbing onto the barricade with a rifle. They finally realized: “Run!” They turned and fled, abandoning even the two bronze cannons they had dragged along. Such enemies were too terrifying—they were beyond their ability to confront. Liu Yu could only watch as the enemy vanished around the corner, leaving only a dozen prisoners and two bronze cannons. But at that moment, Liu Yu was full of confidence: “Everyone, advance toward the sound of gunfire! Clear the entire city!” Inside the governor’s mansion, Fan Fushu hadn’t had peace for even a few minutes when he heard bad news: “Something terrible has happened! Something terrible!” “Deputy Commander Zheng Song has lost his entire army—none of the 500 soldiers returned. Deputy Commander Zheng died in battle! It’s terrible!” It was absolutely devastating news. How little time had passed? He had sent out 200 soldiers to counterattack less than fifteen minutes ago! How could 500 soldiers be wiped out in just fifteen minutes?

What a formidable bandit!
His face turned pale.
Fan Fushu, disregarding propriety, turned to the group of military leaders at his side and asked bluntly, “Who among you can turn this tide?”