Fatty ground his teeth; having spent time with the Sixteenth Division, he had long been familiar with how quickly these types could turn on you. To these warriors who tread on the edge of life and death, any authority was nonsense. They only bowed to absolute strength. In essence, Fatty himself was one of them, and this inherent sense of identity did not diminish much because of the rank on his shoulder.

"It’s just a misunderstanding." Fatty turned his head to look at Jonathan.

"I’m sorry!" Jonathan, finally coming to his senses, looked at Fatty with a complex expression. Finally, he puffed out his chest and straightforwardly said, "I owe you a life!"

Fatty chuckled and felt quite pleased.

"General." Seeing Fatty was easy to talk to, Nash relaxed as well. The nearly thirty-year-old man grinned, revealing a set of white teeth in his dirty face, "It’s better if you take off that uniform... hehe."

Fatty looked at his uniform and immediately jumped up, hastily taking it off.

He thought, no wonder the Jiepeng soldiers looked at him like an enemy the moment he appeared. It was all because of this uniform. Having stayed inside the Mecha and battleships for too long, he had made such a rookie mistake. If Nash hadn’t pointed it out, he could have been standing around like a peacock opening its tail, naively waiting for others to earn military merit at his expense in the next battle!

After exchanging friendliness, Fatty and Nash found themselves on the same page. Sitting down on an ammunition box, Fatty lit the cigarette Nash offered him and asked, "Lieutenant Nash, right? Based on your experience, when will those Jiepeng bastards launch their next attack?"

Nash sat cross-legged in front of Fatty, his big hands ceremonially rubbing on his mud-covered and blood-stained pants, putting on an honest and straightforward demeanor.

He glanced at the time on his combat recorder and said, "Not sure, sometimes when they attack fiercely, they can start another wave in a few minutes. However, that battalion over there fought us for eight hours; their casualties were at least double ours. Recently they’ve been a bit more subdued, mounting an attack about every half hour. I reckon, seeing you’ve arrived, they’ll need to prepare more."

"No reinforcements for them?" Fatty casually picked up a Chuckna M23 Standard Rifle, looked at it, then put it down.

"None before. It was just them against us."

Nash opened the terrain map stored on his combat recorder and projected it onto a relatively smooth bulletproof wall, glancing at Fatty. "This is the left flank of our entire blocking line. It’s a mountain bend. Beyond is a large gorge. To cross the position, you have to detour over a thousand kilometers along the mountain foot. With the character of the Jiepeng people, having one battalion hit a company here, they would be embarrassed to bring in reinforcements. But with your spaceship crashing here, who knows what will happen next."

"Damn it." Fatty looked at the terrain map, feeling a little overwhelmed: "Sunx Ping said you have lost contact with your headquarters?"

"Yes." Nash nodded.

He instinctively glanced at the warriors at the other end of the trench, already fatigued to the extreme, tightly clenching their hands; the carefree expression was completely gone. Of the entire company of more than 160 people, only a few were left. The heart-wrenching pain of losing brothers who shared life and death bonds is unimaginable to ordinary people.

"With the communicators gone, didn’t you send someone to make contact?" Fatty, understanding, was silent for a moment before asking in a low voice.

"We did." Nash gritted his teeth and said, "Sent three times, none returned."

"You’re saying..." The blood drained from Fatty’s face, turning him as white as a sheet: "...you sent three times, and none came back?!"

Nash didn’t raise his eyes, just silently nodded.

Fatty’s heart sank to an icy pit. He stared blankly at the electronic map projected from Nash’s combat recorder, his mind a complete blank.

As Nash said, this was the forward left flank of the entire meandering defense line.

The reason for placing such a position in this mountain bend was that the high ground where the position was located was the flank of the entire 1792nd Regiment. If the enemy bypassed the forward figure-eight-shaped mountains to outflank this side and occupy this high ground, they could advance smoothly, slicing the staggered defense line of the entire 1792nd Regiment into two.

Thus, this company was stationed here and ordered to hold it at all costs.

Now, the problem lay in the location of this position.

It was a U-shaped mountain bend where the towering mountains, while isolating the position, also cut off the circumstances of the other positions. Under complete communication systems, this would not be an issue. Yet the position’s communicator was blown to pieces. Since that moment, this position has become an isolated island in the ocean, completely cut off!

From Nash’s expression, it was clear he understood what it meant that the three dispatched communicators didn’t return. Yet, the ceaseless enemy attacks meant he had no time to consider anything else.

Until receiving orders from headquarters, he had to and could only continue holding here. If the position on the other side of the mountain bend wasn’t lost, abandoning this position would be a crime. If it was lost...he didn’t expect to lead the dozen or so exhausted warriors present toward breaking through countless enemies outnumbering them, to get out alive!

Who knows if the Jiepeng people had taken the main position. Perhaps they saw no need, perhaps they lacked time, or maybe they simply hadn’t discovered this U-shaped mountain bend next to the main position. Regardless, no enemy had ever climbed up from the main position to attack this position. Before Nash, stood only the Jiepeng Infantry Battalion that had been at odds with him from the very beginning!