Chapter 177: The Battle of Bopu (Part 1)

A piercing shriek tore through the night sky, jolting the sleeping camp awake. It was the first alarm of its kind they had ever heard—and the jarring contrast between the day's victory celebrations and this midnight klaxon left many struggling to process what was happening.

Chen Haiyang's roar blared from the loudspeakers: "Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"

The Navy had already elevated the alert level from yellow to orange after receiving Xue Ziliang's report. Combat personnel had assembled at key positions while patrols checked potential infiltration points. Now the gunshot pushed them from orange to red. Full combat status.

"Beach under attack! All personnel assemble at the Port Office!"

The quiet camp erupted into motion. Half-dressed figures poured from dormitories and barracks, sprinting in groups of two and three toward the beacon tower. Their pounding footsteps mingled with the blaring loudspeakers to create an atmosphere of unprecedented tension.

At the office entrance, Ma Qianzhu issued his final orders: "You eight, get up the tower and help man the guns. Wang Ruixiang, take fire extinguishers to the dock to prevent arson. Lin Shenhe is responsible for getting artillery there as fast as possible, by any means necessary. Everyone else arms up under Wu De's command—hold all key points. The port is under martial law. Notify Bairen and all stations to go on alert. Keep all radios open. Now move!"

The moment Bopu's attack alert came through, the Communications Center shut down all non-military channels to ensure the lines stayed clear for combat traffic. Xi Yazhou ordered the Training Battalion to assemble and stand by.

"Notify the garage to prepare vehicles!" he shouted into his radio. "We need to be ready to transport reinforcements!" He was still yelling when a roaring engine erupted from the direction of the garage. A farm truck packed with people was already speeding away.

"Who the hell is that?"

"Looks like Dugu. All in black gear—must be the Commerce and Industry Enforcement Team!"

"Who authorized him to use vehicles?" Xi Yazhou felt his blood pressure spike. He hated unauthorized actions. In this pitch darkness, though only twelve kilometers separated them from Bopu, if the enemy had set up an ambush along the road—well, nobody could guarantee the three gun towers were impenetrable.

The moment Dugu Qiuhun heard the attack news, he had grabbed whoever he could find near the East Gate. His enforcement team had scattered after dinner and couldn't be reassembled quickly, so he seized every male he saw, thrust a machete into their hands, and ordered them to the Commerce Bureau building. But most people had already returned to their dormitories. Around the East Gate, including himself, he found only about ten men.

He quickly retrieved his private stash from the Commerce Bureau warehouse—equipment he had begged the Planning Committee for, which they had granted partly because he'd acquired it through his own channels. Within minutes, a team clad in black stab-resistant vests stood assembled in the Commerce Bureau courtyard. Dugu Qiuhun wore the same gear: crew cut, prominent brow ridge, cold eyes.

"Comrades!" He addressed the dozen drowsy men with a grave expression. "Bopu is under enemy attack. That's our vital base—our foundation. We go now to defend the Sacred Ship. To defend the Great Transmigration!"

"We have guns in our dormitory," someone offered. "Let me get them..."

Per the post-First Anti-Encirclement defense plan, each dormitory maintained at least one weapon for training and emergency armament.

"No time!" Dugu Qiuhun's face was stern. "The Great Transmigration is in peril. Move! Let this spacetime see the name that once made men tremble!"

He turned toward the exit, and ten team members immediately followed, their backs bearing two large red characters. To Dongmen Chuiyu, who had just stumbled out of bed dragging a pump-action shotgun, he called: "Dongmen, this place is yours!"

"Don't worry." Dongmen was startled by the fanatical gleam in Dugu's eyes. Had the excitement driven him mad?

After watching them go, Dongmen Chuiyu kicked and punched the hiding police officers awake, ordering them to ready sabers and shields for melee. Then Mu Min arrived hurriedly with a pistol, followed by Ming Lang wearing an unhappy face—finally a night off with his wife, and he'd been hoping for an early rest, a chance to talk about life, discuss ideals and feelings...

"You lead the police on guard," Dongmen told them. "I'll go to the roof to look."

He climbed to the Commerce Bureau roof and peered toward the beach. Unfortunately, he saw nothing—but he could hear that the situation ahead wasn't good. He muttered to himself: "Bunch of know-it-alls. If they'd prepared according to the battle plan, we wouldn't be this passive. Almost every enemy attack catches us off guard. One victory doesn't guarantee the next."

Moonlight filtered through trees, casting mottled shadows across the camp with its extinguished bonfires. Deliberately muffled coughs came from lightless tents. Despite softened footsteps, the patrol sounds echoed louder than usual. Faint gunfire carried from the beach.

Life's hard for little people, Tan Ming thought. Not only was he pulling guard duty, but orange alert meant patrol duty with his brothers. In this pitch-black night, if they actually ended up in hand-to-hand combat, his legs might shake.

Then came a soft crackling from the tree grove at the camp's corner—the sound of snapping branches. Tan Ming straightened instantly, signaling his hidden brothers that something was wrong. He led four marines as quietly as possible toward the sound.

A curly-haired, high-nosed face suddenly appeared before him. The trees had grown a face.

"Damn!" He raised his gun and fired.

The massive report swallowed the pirate's half-uttered yell. Tan Ming dove into the nearest fortification, clearing the friendly fire lines. Behind him, gunfire erupted from both camp and trees. Bullets whistled through foliage; some kicked up dirt nearby. Pirates burst from the trees with wild cries, charging the camp. Three of his native subordinates scattered immediately—fresh conscripts were useless. One more lay face-up on the ground, hit by someone. Count it as a pirate casualty.

Hands trembling, he loaded his pistol and fired at the pirate mob. Though he missed, he steadied considerably. Shoot, reload, shoot... Tracer rounds from the camp streaked red toward the pirates, giving Tan Ming a fireworks-show sensation.

The pirates' first infiltration of Lingao Point was quickly repulsed. Semiautomatic rifle fire was obviously more than they could handle. But this brought no relief to the transmigrators. Fire flashed from the bay—Countess of Scarborough had opened fire. Shells screamed overhead, splashing at Lingao Point's edge and throwing up columns of water.

"Quick, retreat!" Li Haiping's voice crackled over the radio. He was the camp commander.

Several transmigrators led marines sprinting away. The entire Lingao Point lay within the big ship's range. Defending there meant suicide.

In the muzzle flash, Aragonés watched with satisfaction as dozens of people fled. Landing pirates rushed from the trees in pursuit. No matter how powerful those muskets, could they match 24-pounder cannons? Smugly, Aragonés ordered the rowboats forward. The ship maintained its parallel orientation to Lingao Point, continuously belching flame and smoke.

Amid the chaos, a brilliant beam of light slashed down like a sword from the beacon tower. After sweeping the sea several times, it locked firmly onto the Spanish galleon. Countess of Scarborough drifted slowly in the light beam, elegant as a noblewoman at a ball.

"Fire!" Li Di had no time to admire the sight.

The tower's 12-pounder cannon roared. The shell splashed beside Countess of Scarborough, and then other completed emplacements and hastily positioned shore guns opened fire one after another.

"God! This is Devil's sorcery!" When the brilliant light grasped the Spanish galleon, Aragonés howled in despair. How could blazing light like Castile's hottest summer sun appear at midnight? Several sailors who tried to find the light source were blinded and rolled in agony on the deck.

"Get the priest up here!" he bellowed.

The ship had no priest, of course. But an old soldier named González knew Bible passages and could draw crosses for healing—the ship's only religious "talent." This Spanish "holy man" was summoned from below, though he obviously lacked confidence in his faith. Trembling, he fished out a cross. Before he could begin his recitation, a 12-pounder shell struck the deck. Shrapnel flew. Several sailors fell screaming. González vanished instantly.

As if to quell their fear, Countess of Scarborough's guns all opened fire at once. Shells striking stone sprayed fragments dancing through the air—more terrifying than the cannonballs themselves. The coastal positions on Lingao Point were abandoned. Though the pirates had suffered heavily in the first fight, they now surged forward regardless of death.

"Distance 100 meters! Canister!" Lin Shenhe's shout came from the earthwork in the darkness.

Fire flashed. A 12-pounder mountain howitzer spewed a long tongue of flame and hundreds of iron balls. The recoil sent it jumping, tumbling off the earthwork. The pirates who had reached the beach instantly lost half their number.

"Quick, get it back up!"

The improvised gun crew quickly righted the fallen howitzer, scrambling to push it back into position. The gun's durability was genuine—completely undamaged.

"75 meters! Double canister!"

Searchlights on the camp watchtowers all blazed on. Though these stage and decorative lights couldn't match antiaircraft searchlights, their brightness and range were terrifying enough. Pirates were dazzled. Double canister rounds fired continuously from the earthworks, sweeping through the crowd like death's net, reaping lives with mechanical efficiency. The pirates routed again from Lingao Point—some fled to shore and jumped in, hoping to reach the boats; others panicked into the nearby mangroves. Camp fire followed them. Leaves and branches flew as bullets and shells tore through the foliage.

(End of Chapter)