Sino-Korean War: The Unicorn Nation

━ The Korean Emperor

The war was progressing remarkably smoothly.

The initial offensive had split Korea's forces into two major armies. The First Army advanced from Dandong toward Tonghua, while the Second Army pushed from Baishan toward Tonghua. With air superiority firmly secured, airborne troops had also been dropped at every major chokepoint.

An encirclement spanning roughly half the length of the border had been established, and the Chinese forces trapped within it were being systematically crushed as the advance continued to drive forward. Currently, a diagonal line had been drawn connecting Dandong on the border through Shenyang, Changchun, Harbin, Suihua, and Yichun.

This second encirclement had taken roughly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a month to complete, yet Chinese forces still remained. The reason was simple. Along the border between Korea-3 and Manchuria—that is, throughout southern Manchuria—mountains stretched in continuous ranges. To escape, one had to follow the few available roads, and those were naturally among the primary targets.

Relentless bombing and artillery fire had collapsed the roads, and whenever a large-scale breakout was attempted, artillery was directed straight at that unit. As a result, Chinese forces had to either flee over the mountains or attempt small-scale escapes in the dead of night. Small Korean units stationed at every passable stretch continued their ambushes, dramatically reducing the success rate of these escapes.

One might have expected Chinese counterattacks or relief forces to arrive and break this open, but nothing of the sort had materialized—another factor that contributed to completing the second encirclement. Those who successfully retreated intact were a tiny minority. In effect, the soldiers China had stationed on its first line of defense along the border were being annihilated.

"If we wipe out the encircled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠enemy completely, we project that the total Chinese forces eliminated since the war began will reach three hundred thousand."

I marveled the moment I heard the maid's report. It nearly matched the early-game kill counts from when I used to play. The Chinese Army's regular forces numbered roughly one million. A month into the war, and thirty percent of them had simply evaporated.

There was, however, a slight problem. Everything was going too well. Given the surprise attack's perfect success thanks to our faster-than-expected offensive, and considering that the enemy's superhuman forces hadn't taken the field, it seemed reasonable enough. Coldly speaking, China's border troops—their first line of defense, if you will—had no option but to be shattered. We'd been sharpening our blades diligently and launched the war as a surprise attack, so it was only natural.

But the second defensive line behind them beginning an immediate retreat—that bothered me a little. It was unnatural. They might have panicked from the massive losses and Korea's rapid advance, or they might simply be incompetent... but interpreting everything solely in our favor wasn't wise.

"Why do you think China isn't attempting urban warfare?"

Occasionally small units remained behind to resist, but they were literally just small units. From the moment we entered the cities, there was no meaningful resistance. Combat always took place on the outskirts or outside the cities entirely.

The plan drawn up by Rianna, Korea's Supreme Commander and Grand General, had called for sealing off each city and gradually occupying them—with the sole exception of Dandong right at the front. She'd said the encirclement could still hold even while sealing the cities, so long as we moved quickly enough. I'd been told that the moment the initial offensive succeeded in half-destroying the enemy's main force, the success of this operation had been assured.

"Miss Rianna says it may be out of concern for the cities' safety. From intercepted Chinese military radio, the Party's directive prohibits firing missiles and artillery near urban areas."

...That was strange. Did it make any sense for China to avoid urban warfare and refrain from firing missiles and artillery for the sake of its own citizens? Was it because this was Earth-3, somehow different? Hard to buy that—Mao Zedong was the Chairman, a man who'd spilled enough blood in World War II to be thoroughly desensitized to casualties. This was almost as bizarre as a snail living on a diet of salt. For reference, if you sprinkle salt on a snail, it dies.

"What's the reason the units that formed the second defensive line retreated?"

"According to what we've confirmed, they've established a new defensive line connecting Jinzhou, Chaoyang, Chifeng, and the Xilingol League."

So they'd essentially abandoned almost all of Manchuria? From China's perspective, losing Manchuria wouldn't mean the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠country collapsed, but still...

"China is loudly proclaiming to the international community that they've abandoned urban warfare, attempting a propaganda war."

A propaganda war—was it really common sense to abandon Manchuria just to attempt that? It didn't seem that way to me.

"China tried to seize the moral high ground, but we're still dominating the propaganda war."

Perhaps my complicated expression showed, because the maid answered confidently. The problem wasn't the propaganda war—it was this thoroughly unsettling situation.

"That's not it. Don't you find the Chinese army's movements a bit strange?"

"Miss Rianna thinks so as well, and is currently stationing sufficient forces in the rear."

The maid's words eased my anxiety a little. Maybe I'd been worrying too much. Our military was taking adequate precautions.

"But do we even have that many troops?"

Korea-3's army boasted a considerable seven hundred thousand, but that still couldn't compare to China, which pulled humans from the fields like crops.

"We plan to mix mobilized reservists with regular forces and station them in the rear."

The moment I heard "reservists," I got the feeling their combat power would be garbage. A hardworking reservist was a mythical creature on par with a unicorn. But what followed contradicted that thought of mine.

"Our reservists have been voluntarily conducting military training on a regular basis, so we expect them to perform at a level only slightly below the regular forces."

?

Reservists?

Voluntary military training?

Only slightly below the regulars?

Faced with such unrealistic statements, I looked at the maid before me and registered reality.

...Ah, right. This was Korea-3! A fantasy nation that couldn't even be compared to Korea-1 or Korea-2!

"How many additional conscripts do we have right now?"

"At present, the forces judged deployable to the front lines number two million."

Two million in a single month? That was absurd... and yet it made sense! Because this Korea-3, excluding me, consisted entirely of women, and unlike the humans of Earth-1, they had no innate physical or mental defects. These people weren't jotgan.

Simply put, nearly every Korean had a history of military service. Roughly up to age fifty belonged to the mandatory service generation. We could draft every last person at a moment's notice!

...Wait a second.

"How much has China's force replenishment progressed?"

"By our estimates, we project they've added somewhere between seven hundred thousand and one million at this point."

?

Question marks filled my head at the maid's words.

Initial Chinese forces: 1,000,000 − 300,000 (currently encircled forces plus those eliminated so far) = 700,000. Add the replenished 1,000,000, and the Chinese Army stood at 1,700,000.

And us? Subtracting the roughly ten thousand lost during the advance: 690,000 + 2,000,000 = 2,690,000.

1.7 million Chinese versus 2.69 million Korean. That formula was complete.

Huh? We had more troops than China? Fourteen hundred million versus a hundred million, and we had more troops—what on earth was this?

"Is it true that we have more forces than China?"

Dumbfounded, I blinked several times before collecting myself and asking.

"At the present moment, yes."

The maid affirmed my words and continued her explanation.

"China needs more time than we do to retrain its reserve forces, and equipping those troops also takes time. In our case, training requires only a very short period, and we have ample equipment prepared in advance."

A nation that had diligently sharpened its blades to be ready for war at any time—its stockpile of equipment, plus unicorn reservists, plus everyone up to age fifty having military experience. The combined result of all this: at the present moment, we outnumbered the Chinese Army in scale!

Korea-3 was humanity's greatest military nation! And I was its Emperor!

I was drunk on national pride!

"However, once this becomes a protracted war, the Chinese forces will begin to overwhelm us in scale. Our advantage will last one to two months."

The cold assessment landed, but the fact that Korea-3 was incredible remained unchanged.

"Could China estimate the scale of our forces?"

"Since we haven't yet committed the troops, accurately estimating our military scale would be impossible."

Only now did I understand Rianna's confidence. So this was why she'd made such bold claims. These fanatical Koreans, unless they were children, would never blab about something as important as military scale, and no one could be bought. If a foreigner wandered around inside the country, they'd immediately stand out. It wasn't simply a matter of skin color—they were a different species entirely.

Rianna was being sufficiently cautious, and our electronic warfare capabilities were superior to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠China's, so even if information leaked, it would amount to nothing more than "Korea is replenishing its forces." In other words, no matter what bizarre schemes China attempted, they couldn't know that two million troops had already been replenished. At best, they'd estimate a few hundred thousand!

If this massive force the enemy couldn't anticipate intervened in a contingency, no matter what trap they set, the enemy's calculations would be completely thrown off. On top of that, if I triggered the Manchuria annexation event, I wouldn't need to worry about Manchuria going forward!

Status window.

It was an event that had appeared in the comprehensive system window right after the war began. In the game, too, it was a system that activated once you met the conditions and clicked. The gauge for this annexation event was steadily filling.

━ Jinzhou, China — Northern Theater Command

"Large-scale troop movements have been confirmed from the Korean mainland. Estimated strength: three hundred to five hundred thousand."

The generals nodded with grim expressions.

"We anticipated that much. We can still strike the major roads and railways and cut them off."

Studying the battlefield map, Northern Theater Commander Huang Ming smiled.

"Two days of cutting their supply lines is all it takes. Modern warfare cannot be fought without logistics. A single artillery piece consumes hundreds of rounds a day, and a single tank burns through hundreds of liters of fuel along with ammunition and spare parts."

A 120mm tank shell alone weighed ten to twenty kilograms. A single 155mm self-propelled howitzer shell ran about forty-three to forty-six kilograms. A mortar round weighed anywhere from two to fifteen kilograms. The Korean forces pouring out firepower were firing a minimum of ten thousand artillery shells a day. All of it demanded an enormous volume of supplies.

Even a brief collapse of the supply network would send Korean combat power into freefall—that much was certain. And so smiles rose on the faces of the staff officers listening to their commander.

They would launch a great counteroffensive against a Korean army starving for supplies and sweep them away. The men in this room would be the protagonists of that victory. How thrilling a prospect!

"And that's not all! Infantry are the same! Ammunition, food, medical equipment—all of it shows massive consumption. Block their supplies for just one or two days and their firepower drops by half or more."

With that, the commander swept his gaze around the room, and the staff officers straightened their postures. The sight pleased him.

"Those bastards have pushed in too deep... Victory is beyond doubt. Crush those despicable Korean invaders!"

Bang!

The commander slammed his fist down on the map and roared. The staff officers responded with fervent enthusiasm.

Clap clap clap clap!!!

"Long live the People's Liberation Army!"

"For the victory of the Chinese nation!"

Applause and cheers erupted. As if they had already won, the room filled with boiling heat and roaring voices.

China was certain of victory.