The Rise Of A Billionaire 1943-Chapter 180 - 193: Jinx

April 28th.

Under repeated urging from MacArthur, the security forces, with cover from the US Seventh Fleet and Army Air Forces, launched Operation Oboe, advancing on Borneo from the east. Without this American backing, the Chinese contingent would never have been given the opportunity to land.

The landing site on May 1st was at Tarakan, in northeastern Borneo. The May 1st landing, conducted under Allied naval gunfire support, went extremely smoothly. The Japanese Navy garrison defending the Lingkas Beach on Tarakan Island offered only brief resistance before retreating.

The 3rd Reinforced Brigade suffered negligible casualties during the entire landing operation. The first day’s skirmishes were less a true landing and counter-landing than a probing action, which matched the initial assessment: to avoid the Allies’ overwhelming artillery advantage, the Japanese would deploy their main forces inland.

Although it was his first time commanding an amphibious assault, Chen Chendong, following advice from the American staff, did not act rashly. Instead, he consolidated the beachhead, bringing tanks and the main force ashore before expanding their gains. It was clear that without American planning, his inexperience would have shown.

On May 2nd, the 3rd Reinforced Brigade began advancing north along the transportation routes toward Tarakan airfield, while other units expanded operations west and south of Tarakan town, pushing the front lines to the outskirts. According to the plan, after landing, they would move north to seize the airfield, then continue along the road to capture the oil refinery.

It was only at this moment that both sides finally figured out each other’s identities.

"They’re actually Chinese!"

Major Tsuneoka Tadao, commander of the Independent Infantry 455th Battalion defending Tarakan, was instinctively incredulous when he learned that the troops landing on the island were Chinese, not "Australian forces."

"How did the Chinese get here?"

Tsuneoka had been to China before. In fact, his first time on the battlefield after graduating from the military academy was in China—specifically... Nanjing.

Some old friends, when they arrive, awaken memories of friendship. But the reunion of certain former acquaintances stirs up... well, old grievances.

Given the circumstances, this was only fitting. After learning through the interrogation of Japanese prisoners that Tsuneoka had been to Nanjing, Pierre’s order was very simple:

"Eradicate evil, annihilate them as much as possible."

Some grudges simply cannot be resolved.

Of course, some ingrained beliefs are equally unchangeable. Upon discovering that the landing troops were Chinese, Tsuneoka, who had previously feared Allied firepower, immediately became cocky.

"Chinese troops are nothing to fear! Tonight, we’ll drive them all back into the sea!"

Tsuneoka’s words were full of arrogance. He even reminisced with Commander Kawakami Hiroshi of the Navy’s 2nd Security Unit about the good old days, recalling his first campaign in Nanjing after joining the army.

"...That Chinese soldier, I made him kneel on the ground, then with my samurai sword—ha! One stroke, and his body was cut in two..."

Reliving his past victories, Tsuneoka became even more arrogant. He even forgot about the Allied planes overhead, and the Allied artillery fire constantly shielding the Chinese advance.

That night, in the dense rainforest, squads of Japanese soldiers were preparing for a final assault. Officers tied white cloth strips on each other’s backs so that their men could follow them in the darkness.

Nearly two thousand Japanese soldiers, shrouded by the thick jungle under the night sky, cautiously advanced toward the Chinese camp. According to earlier reconnaissance, the Chinese heavy artillery positions were just ahead. In the daytime battle, those heavy guns—provided and coordinated with Allied support—had inflicted heavy casualties on them. As long as they could take out those guns, the Chinese would be nothing to fear!

Major Tsuneoka, walking under the pale moonlight with his command sword in hand, would pause now and then to observe. Though arrogant, he was not without caution.

During the march, people occasionally slipped and fell, producing soft metallic clinks. As they carefully moved through the woods, Sato, following behind the battalion commander, saw orange flashes flickering on the distant horizon, followed by deafening booms.

"It’s the heavy artillery!"

The flashes and thunderous reports delighted Tsuneoka—that was his target. He immediately ordered the troops to split into two groups to encircle the distant objective, leaving the accompanying mortar units in the woods by the riverbank.

"Sir, don’t say I’m jinxing it..."

Fang Shizu, lying behind a sandbag and clutching his German-made STG44, blinked hard. Ever since dinner, he had felt uneasy. He’d always trusted his sixth sense, though he didn’t know what to call it—his family called it being a jinx, and he’d been beaten for it as a child. Eventually, he stopped mentioning it.

But on the battlefield, he had no choice but to speak up—sometimes being a jinx was all too accurate.

"I just have a bad feeling. Something’s definitely going to happen tonight..."

"You brat, enough already. That mouth of yours has never been right about anything..."

The veteran, about to scold his subordinate, couldn’t help but raise his head and look ahead.

All he could see was dense rainforest. The foliage blocked his view; there was no sign of movement.

It was quiet—so quiet in the woods that even the frogs seemed to have stopped croaking.

"Something doesn’t feel right..."

In the jungle, pairs of eyes stared ahead. Sato, gripping his bayonet, was fixated on the path in front. As the battalion commander gave the order to move forward, he suddenly felt something against his leg.

Probably just a branch, he thought.

But as this thought crossed Sato’s mind, there was a "bang"—a burst of fire shot up from the ground in the darkness. Before he could react, "boom!"—a violent explosion shattered the jungle’s silence.

"Mines!"

With screams erupting, an S-type bounding mine—supplied through Allied stockpiles—exploded in midair, sending hundreds of deadly fragments flying horizontally at lethal speed. Sato felt a numbness in his hip and fell to the ground. Like the others, he screamed as he groped at his groin, finding only a bloody, empty trouser leg.

"It’s gone, it’s gone..."

As terrified cries rang out, gunfire erupted.

"Enemy attack... Damn it, I told you so..."

Fang Shizu shouted as he raised his foreign-made weapon and sprayed bullets into the darkness at the Japanese.

Amid the shouting, tracer rounds arced across the night in green and red streaks from the defensive positions. Around Tsuneoka, the screams of wounded soldiers rang out as they were hit.

The silent midnight was instantly shattered by the thunderous "tutututu" of submachine guns and machine-gun fire—nearly all Allied-supplied.

Meanwhile, several Japanese mortars began firing. The 81mm mortars weren’t very powerful, but they still caused plenty of trouble for the defenders.

Led by Commander Kawakami Hiroshi, with a white cross cloth strip on his back, over a thousand navy security troops swung around from the flank, intending to seize the artillery positions while the Chinese were distracted by Tsuneoka’s assault.

The defenders...

The artillery defensive position belonged to the Sixth Battalion. Although, on the surface, their troop numbers appeared to be at a 1:3 ratio with the Japanese forces, the dispersed deployment left the defensive line thinly manned. As a result, the position facing Kōshun Hiroshi had only half a company—less than a hundred defenders split into two under-strength platoons.

A thousand against a hundred—the advantage is ours!

When the fighting broke out at Changjing’s position, things remained eerily quiet on Kōshun Hiroshi’s front. There was no movement, but the defenders were already on high alert, rifles at the ready and eyes wide open, trying to spot any disturbance in the darkness.

In the darkness, Zhao Yaozu carefully called out over the radio.

"I need illumination. Coordinates are..."

No sooner had he put down the phone than he raised his assault rifle and aimed ahead.

"Whoosh..."

With a whistling sound, the shells—fired by Allied artillery—flew over, and illumination rounds exploded one after another in the sky. The blinding white light made it almost impossible to keep their eyes open, but by its glare, they could see everything clearly—a squad after squad of Japanese soldiers, crouching low, were charging rapidly toward them. The mass of Japanese troops surged forward, forming a dark, oppressive wave.

At this point, even firing a machine gun wouldn’t be fast enough.

Seeing this, Zhao Yaozu immediately shouted:

"Careful! Death’s Scythe..."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Zhao Yaozu and his comrades all dove behind cover. At the same time, he pressed down on the detonator.

Suddenly, in front of their position, it was as if heavy artillery had struck. With two consecutive explosions, the swarming Japanese troops were mowed down like wheat at harvest.

"Death’s Scythe" was the nickname for a type of heavy directional mine—a special weapon Pierre had secured through Allied cooperation. After all, night raids had always been the Japanese army’s forte, and their "Banzai charges" were infamous for their ferocity.

But in the face of "Death’s Scythe," such tactics were worthless. Modeled after the MON-200 directional mine from later generations, Pierre’s creation weighed a hefty 30 kilograms, with a 15-kilogram explosive charge—several times more powerful than a 150mm shell. Each mine was packed with about 15,000 steel balls, and propelled by the 15 kilograms of explosive, its killing radius covered a 200-meter fan-shaped area from which enemy infantry could scarcely escape.

The dense hail of steel balls unleashed by the two "Death’s Scythe" mines swept across the battlefield like the reaper’s blade, sending more than 20,000 steel balls scything through the ranks of the Japanese. Hundreds of enemy soldiers fell instantly.

In the blink of an eye, more than half of the charging Japanese were down. As for Lieutenant Colonel Kōshun Hiroshi, he didn’t even have time to shout "Totsugeki!" before he was riddled with dozens of steel balls and collapsed to the ground, his body covered in blood, his eyes wide with shock in death.

What... what happened? How could this be...?