The Nazi advance was terrifyingly fast.
By the time they crossed into three hundred meters, scouts had already reported to the squad leaders.
Low-ranking officers shouted hoarsely, ordering soldiers in the trenches to prepare for a counterattack.
Before the commands fully spread, the Nazis had closed another one hundred and fifty meters.
They were nearly close enough to jump straight into the trenches.
Only then did the slow-moving soldiers of the Second Army of the Shrek Military climb to their feet.
They gripped their new assault rifles-nearly ten pounds each.
Under constant artillery fire and the crushing pressure of imminent death, they waited for orders.
"Second, third, fourth, fifth squads-fire! Wipe out these damn invaders!"
Seeing the distance close and the enemy still relatively concentrated, the Colonel Commander gave the order without hesitation.
The Nazi soldiers were startled when the enemy suddenly rose from the trenches.
But they didn't panic.
They raised their rifles and returned fire, then rolled to avoid incoming shots.
Roll. Pull the bolt. Eject the casing. Chamber a new round.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
98K rounds struck the Czech soldiers squarely on the head.
Every shot hit.
Every shot bounced.
The smooth steel helmets deflected the bullets cleanly.
Inside the helmets, water-soaked sponges absorbed the immense kinetic energy. The impact squeezed water out, dispersing the force through moisture.
Aside from feeling like their heads had been shoved hard-and water dripping from their helmets-the soldiers felt no real pain.
Just slight dizziness.
It didn't affect combat performance.
Except for a few unlucky men hit directly in the face and killed instantly, the rest were alive.
And still standing.
The soldiers who had cheated death froze for a split second.
Then excitement surged.
They weren't dead.
They pulled the triggers with renewed fury, returning fire to show these invaders exactly what they were made of.
Rat-tat-tat!
With the AK-47, precise aiming wasn't necessary.
They fired in bursts toward general areas, then shifted positions and continued firing.
When magazines ran dry, they ducked back into the trenches and swapped them out.
"Sixth through tenth squads-prepare! Stand and fire! Suppress them!"
The Colonel Commander barked again.
A storm of metal erupted.
The attacking Nazis were suppressed so heavily they could barely lift their heads.
They waited for the gunfire to pause.
They prepared to charge.
They never realized the enemy was using a two-wave firing tactic.
As the first wave reloaded, the second wave immediately took over, maintaining uninterrupted fire.
The brief lull wasn't weakness.
It was bait.
The moment the Nazis charged, their bodies were fully exposed to the muzzles.
At that range, no amount of skill mattered.
Unless you were a super soldier like Captain America-Steve Rogers-you were torn apart.
The bullets barely slowed.
They punched through one body, then another, before burying themselves in dirt or losing momentum.
The AK-47's first appearance on the battlefield revealed horrifying power.
At medium range, it was pure slaughter.
An entire battalion was erased.
Most soldiers weren't killed by precision.
They were killed by volume.
When dozens of bullets sealed off an area, some were guaranteed to hit.
And once even an elite soldier was struck, combat effectiveness collapsed instantly.
In the rear, the Nazi Regimental Commander watched with eyes bulging in rage.
Ten minutes.
A full battalion.
Five hundred men.
No survivors.
"Artillery company! Mortars! Target three hundred meters ahead! Blow them to hell!"
Furious-but not stupid-the officer immediately changed tactics.
Saturated bombardment.
In the observation post, silence fell.
No one spoke.
They stared at the battlefield in disbelief.
The weapon.
The tactics.
The suppression.
Together, they formed something terrifying.
The soldiers were agile too.
Within that suppressed three-hundred-meter zone, not a single Nazi soldier remained alive.
Not one.
The power of this weapon was monstrous.
For a moment, even the Commander-in-Chief couldn't hide the light in his eyes.
The soldiers equipped with these weapons and armor-
They were perfect.
Without question, they would be absorbed directly into the Guard Regiment.
Personal protection.
With weapons like this, who could threaten him?
"Good Lord... five hundred AK-47s firing together," Howard Stark muttered. "That kind of firepower is insane."
Even he was shocked.
He truly didn't understand how that kid-Ryden-had designed something like this.
Watching his company's weapon dominate the battlefield only filled him with pride.
Advertising?
Unnecessary.
The world had already seen the AK-47.
Orders would come flooding in.
"This is a gold mine," Howard chuckled. "The American arms industry will belong to Stark Industries."
He turned to the observers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, don't be surprised. This is exactly what we expected."
"But don't blink."
"There's something even more exciting coming."
"Our assault rifle isn't just a rifle."
The words landed heavily.
Interest spiked instantly.
The AK-47's performance had already exceeded expectations.
Barring disaster, contracts were guaranteed.
Now there was more?
Everyone leaned forward.
Even the Commander-in-Chief remained silent, eyes fixed on the battlefield.
His understanding of warfare had already been completely overturned.
In the distant trenches, under the Colonel's command, the Czech soldiers suddenly moved.
They slung their AK-47s.
Grabbed their ammo crates.
And withdrew along the trenches.
Bombardment was coming.
Time to leave.
I'm out. You do you.
The Nazi officers were stunned.
They never expected a force with such firepower to retreat so casually.
Normally, weapons with this level of suppression were heavy machine guns.
Powerful.
But immobile.
Stationary targets.
Given time, snipers would kill the gunners.
If not, mortars would erase the position entirely.
But this wasn't a machine gun.
The observers watched as the Czech soldiers cleanly evacuated.
Weapons.
Ammunition.
Everything.
They abandoned the position completely.
Leaving behind nothing but an empty trench-
A hollow shell-
For the Nazis to bomb into dust.
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