You were tasked with guarding the Sihang Warehouse, and you brought out a Tiger tank?

Inside the turret of Tiger tank No. 231, commander Xu Rui looked through the periscope at the routing enemy troops ahead and gave orders directly.

"Forward! Crush them!"

Driver A-Liang immediately pressed the clutch and slammed the lever into forward gear.

"Boom—!"

The Maybach HL230 P45 V12 water-cooled gasoline engine roared to life.

The Tiger tank, weighing fifty-six tons, stopped reversing and its massive body suddenly lurched forward.

The 725mm wide combat tracks whipped up mud, water, and blood from the ground.

Tiger tanks No. 231 and No. 232 led the way, followed by a steel torrent of Panzer III tanks and half-track armored vehicles, relentlessly crushing the corpses and abandoned weapons scattered on the ground.

"Click, click."

The sound of tracks crushing bones and Type 38 rifle stocks was insignificant amidst the roar of the engine.

The remaining scattered Japanese soldiers and the civilian volunteer army were quickly and completely defeated.

The armored assault group continued its advance along the main road toward the city center.

Soon, Zhao Dashan's armored spearhead crossed the dividing line and entered the core area of ​​Qingcheng Port—the European District.

The terrain here is completely different from the surrounding area.

The streets became relatively narrow, with houses and small buildings with red tiles and green trees on both sides.

These buildings are mostly constructed of sturdy stone and concrete, with extremely thick walls, providing incredible defensive capabilities.

What awaited them there was the Japanese army's most elite force in Qingcheng Port, especially the Marine Corps.

Inside a three-story building.

Major Watanabe, the Marine Corps battalion commander, was hiding behind a thick sandbag bunker behind a second-floor window.

He held a telescope in his hand, coldly staring through the firing port at the end of the street.

"Commander, the army's deer and civilians have suffered a complete rout."

An operations staff officer strode over and reported to his superior in a low voice.

"Hmph, what can those peasant soldiers in the army do besides shouting 'Banzai' and charging?"

Major Watanabe, his face full of disdain, slowly adjusted the white gloves on his hands:

"Street fighting is the graveyard of tanks."

Lin Feng thought that with just a few motorcycles, he could run rampant on the streets of Qingcheng Port.

It's like a dream.

Major Watanabe has plenty of confidence.

He has broken up his more than 1,000 elite marines and scattered them all in the villas along the main roads.

Every villa's basement ventilation openings, first-floor windows, second-floor balconies, and even behind the chimneys on the roof.

All of them were equipped with Type 92 heavy machine guns and Type 11 light machine guns.

There were also a large number of grenade launchers and specially selected sharpshooters.

This formed an extremely dense, varied, and comprehensive three-dimensional crossfire network.

The Japanese soldiers were not slow learners.

The three-dimensional defensive tactics that Lin Feng employed in the Zhabei district of Shanghai were something the Japanese learned from and summarized after the war.

They even figured out how to make a simple Molotov cocktail.

"Pass down the order: let the Chinese tanks get close before you attack."

Major Watanabe licked his lips with a sinister grin:

"Open fire immediately when they enter the middle of the street."

Use cluster grenades to sever their tracks.

Throw improvised Molotov cocktails and explosive charges to destroy their vehicle engine compartments.

I will use the complex terrain of urban warfare here to completely annihilate Lin Feng's tank force.

Let them know how powerful the Imperial Marines are.

"Yes, sir!" The staff officer immediately turned around to relay the order.

The entire street was deathly silent, with only the rustling of leaves in the wind.

All the Japanese soldiers held their breath, gripping their weapons tightly, waiting for their prey to fall into the trap.

"Boom!"

The dull roar of an engine, accompanied by the metallic scraping of tracks against the ground, came from around the street corner.

The ground began to tremble slightly.

Major Watanabe's spirits lifted, and he stared intently in that direction, his right hand already gripping the hilt of his command sword at his waist.

however.

As the first tank turned the corner, revealing its massive body...

Major Watanabe's sinister smile froze instantly.

His eyes widened suddenly, and he even stopped breathing.

That was not the light armored vehicle mentioned in the previous intelligence reports.

It was a real monster.

The wide tracks rolled over the bluestone pavement, crushing the hard stone slabs directly into powder, producing a teeth-grinding cracking sound.

The square and heavy-duty body of the vehicle is like a mobile steel fortress.

On the turret, the thick and long 88mm main gun's dark muzzle pointed straight ahead.

Two Tiger tanks, numbered 231 and 232, drove into the street side by side.

Their enormous bodies almost completely filled this otherwise fairly wide street.

The infantry on both sides could only stick close to the base of the wall, taking turns providing cover as they advanced.

"What...what kind of monster is this?!"

Major Watanabe gasped, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

The empire's chariots looked like infants compared to these two behemoths.

Just then.

Suddenly, the sound of a rapid engine roared from a nearby alley.

A Vickers armored vehicle, equipped by the Japanese Navy, suddenly rushed out.

This tiny vehicle, weighing only a few tons and with armor as thin as sheet metal, was covered with countless explosive charges.

The interior of the carriage was crammed with large-caliber naval gun shells.

The Japanese driver inside had a "Victory is assured" banner tied around his head; it's unclear whether he was on too many drugs or driven mad by the pressure.

Before the Tiger could even get close, it recklessly floored the accelerator and sped off.

Black smoke billowed from the exhaust pipe at the rear of the Vickers armored vehicle as it rammed straight into the leading Tiger tank, number 231.

They were actually attempting to take down the massive Tiger tank with this suicidal attack.

"Pay attention to the one o'clock direction!"

Inside the turret of tank number 231, Xu Rui spotted the metal can that had burst out through the periscope at a glance.

He sneered, his tone devoid of any panic:

"Armor-piercing rounds are unnecessary."

"Load the high-explosive shell, call on him."

"High-explosive shell, good!" The loader quickly pushed a shell into the breech and shouted back.

"Target locked." Gunner Tiger locked onto the target instantly.

"Fire."

"boom--!"

The 88mm main gun roared once again, shaking the heavens and the earth.

The muzzle brakes spewed out huge orange-red fireballs and powerful blasts of air to both sides.

A high-explosive shell was fired from the barrel, instantly covering a distance of only a hundred meters or so, and struck the frontal armor of the Vickers armored vehicle with perfect accuracy.

"BOOM—!!!"

A deafening roar shattered the windows of the villas on both sides of the street.

The terrifying power of the 88mm high-explosive shell, combined with the explosives strapped to the armored vehicle and the shells inside the vehicle, caused a simultaneous secondary explosion.

A small mushroom cloud rose directly from the center of the street.

The poor Vickers armored vehicle didn't even pause for a moment before being instantly blown into a pile of burning scrap metal.

Wheels, armor plates, and the remains of the Japanese driver scatter in all directions.

The smoke of battle has not yet dissipated.

The Tiger tank, weighing 56 tons, didn't even slow down.

Driver A-Liang pressed the accelerator hard, and drove straight over the burning wreckage of the armored vehicle with a loud rumble.

"Snap! Crack!"

The wide tracks mercilessly crushed the twisted steel skeleton into a pancake.

It's like a father stomping on his son's tin toy that he dropped on the ground and doesn't even feel the slightest resistance.