Building a Conglomerate in Another World

October 8, 1898

Northern Outskirts of Pyongyang

Dawn arrived with a grim, hazy light over the outskirts of Pyongyang. Clouds gathered low, hanging oppressively over the muddy fields and hastily constructed earthworks that surrounded the embattled city. The once proud capital now stood defiant but scarred—smoke from smoldering buildings still drifting into the air, marking the city's suffering over weeks of relentless conflict.

Captain Edward Harris adjusted his binoculars, squinting to get a clear view of the enemy lines. From his position atop a low hill, he could see Chinese troops hurriedly digging trenches and fortifying their defenses. Artillery pieces had been positioned strategically, aimed directly toward the advancing Amerathian and Korean forces.

"Looks like they're ready for us," Harris muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His adjutant, Lieutenant James Carter, nodded grimly beside him.

"General Caldwell said Pyongyang will be tougher than Kaesong, sir," Carter noted quietly, handing over an updated tactical map. "They've got better positions and plenty of ammunition. Russian units are reportedly bolstering their lines as well."

Harris sighed deeply. "They'll fight like hell to hold the city. Losing Pyongyang means losing control of the entire northern front. This won't be easy."

Behind them, Amerathian infantrymen and Korean soldiers quickly established forward positions, digging shallow trenches and stacking sandbags. Artillery crews carefully positioned their cannons, preparing for a sustained bombardment that would soften the enemy's defenses before the infantry assault.

Further east, General Okada's Japanese divisions closed rapidly, forming a wide arc around the city. The coordination was deliberate—Pyongyang needed to be completely encircled if the allied forces hoped to fully regain control of northern Korea.

October 9, 1898, Early Morning

Chinese-Russian Headquarters, Central Pyongyang

General Yuan Shikai stood silently in a second-floor office of the commandeered mansion, staring out over his defenses. The previous days had allowed him to prepare Pyongyang extensively. Trenches, barbed wire entanglements, fortified bunkers, and carefully placed artillery created formidable defenses. But even as Yuan reviewed the situation, doubt nagged him fiercely. His forces were battle-weary, morale was wavering, and reinforcements from Beijing and Vladivostok had yet to arrive.

Russian General Alexei Mikhailov entered the room quietly, sensing Yuan's uncertainty. "Our western defenses are ready, General," he reported in a calm, measured voice. "We've positioned machine guns and artillery to maximize casualties among attackers."

Yuan nodded slowly. "Good. Amerathian and Japanese forces will try to break through quickly, knowing our reinforcements are delayed. We must hold out long enough."

Mikhailov stepped closer, his voice firm but tempered by realism. "The men are exhausted, General. If we don't receive support soon, even the strongest defenses won't hold indefinitely."

Yuan turned, his expression resolute despite deep fatigue. "Our orders are clear, General Mikhailov. Pyongyang must hold. If this city falls, Beijing and Vladivostok will be next."

The Russian nodded soberly. "Understood, General. We'll fight to the last."

October 9, 1898, Noon

Northern Approaches to Pyongyang

The allied artillery bombardment began precisely at noon, roaring to life with a fierce intensity. Dozens of Amerathian and Korean cannons thundered simultaneously, shells arcing high overhead before exploding violently among the enemy trenches and bunkers. The ground shook from continuous detonations, dirt and debris blasted skyward with every hit.

Captain Harris watched the barrage closely, his heart pounding in his chest. When the artillery briefly ceased firing to adjust targets, Harris gave a sharp nod to Lieutenant Carter.

"Advance!"

Infantry units surged forward immediately, crossing open ground swiftly toward enemy lines. Rifle fire erupted from Chinese and Russian positions, bullets snapping through the air, cutting down several advancing soldiers. But Harris's men pressed onward, using the terrain to minimize casualties as best they could.

Machine guns positioned along the enemy lines opened fire, sending deadly streams of bullets slicing across the battlefield. Soldiers fell left and right, yet still, the Amerathian and Korean troops closed the gap rapidly, diving into enemy trenches amid savage close-quarter fighting.

Captain Harris vaulted into a trench, landing awkwardly but recovering quickly. He aimed his rifle and fired instinctively at enemy soldiers scrambling desperately to repel the attack. Rifle fire crackled sharply, bayonets flashed, and shouts echoed along the trench lines as fierce combat erupted everywhere at once.

October 9, 1898, Afternoon

Eastern Flank, Pyongyang

Simultaneously, General Okada led Japanese troops in aggressive attacks on the eastern perimeter. His disciplined infantry quickly overwhelmed enemy positions weakened by earlier bombardments. Artillery support continued, accurately striking Russian defensive lines attempting to stabilize the eastern front.

By late afternoon, Okada's forces managed to capture several critical artillery emplacements, dramatically reducing enemy firepower. He quickly signaled Caldwell in the west, urging an immediate push to capitalize on their gains.

October 9, 1898, Evening

Chinese-Russian Headquarters, Pyongyang

Reports flooded into the mansion serving as Yuan's command center, each one detailing increasingly dire news. Yuan listened silently, his face pale but determined.

"Our eastern defenses have collapsed," an aide reported urgently. "Japanese forces have captured key artillery positions. The western trenches are barely holding under constant Amerathian assaults."

Yuan stood slowly, absorbing the heavy news. "Fall back to secondary defensive positions within the city. We must make every street and building costly for them."

General Mikhailov nodded solemnly. "Understood, General. My troops will hold as long as possible."

October 10, 1898, Early Morning

Western Pyongyang

Allied forces pressed deeper into Pyongyang, capturing positions street by street. Captain Harris led his men methodically through burning buildings and rubble-filled streets, rifle fire echoing constantly. Harris himself narrowly escaped injury multiple times, pushing relentlessly forward despite exhaustion.

General Caldwell established a temporary forward command post in the city's western outskirts, receiving constant updates. The fighting was brutal, but Pyongyang was slowly slipping from enemy control.

"Tell Harris and Lee to maintain pressure," Caldwell ordered sharply. "We cannot give them a chance to regroup."

October 11, 1898, Afternoon

Pyongyang, Central Plaza

After two full days of relentless fighting, allied forces finally reached Pyongyang's central plaza, capturing the heart of the city after intense combat. Yuan and Mikhailov reluctantly ordered a general withdrawal, desperately attempting to preserve their remaining forces as they retreated northward.

Captain Harris stood wearily in the plaza, surveying the devastated city. Smoke and flames rose from countless buildings, and debris littered every street. The cost of victory was painfully evident, but the strategic gain was monumental.

General Caldwell arrived soon after, shaking Harris's hand firmly. "Excellent work, Captain," he said solemnly, eyes heavy with respect. "Pyongyang is ours again, thanks to you and your men."

Harris nodded, exhaustion mingling with pride. "They fought incredibly hard, sir. But we got it done."

Caldwell exhaled slowly, knowing clearly what lay ahead. "It's a huge step, Captain. But the fight isn't over yet. Yuan and Mikhailov are retreating northward, and they'll regroup. We'll pursue immediately."

"Understood, sir," Harris replied firmly.

As twilight settled over the battered city, Caldwell turned toward the horizon, knowing the next stage of the war would be equally harsh. But the victory at Pyongyang marked a turning point—one that could shift the course of the entire conflict.

For the first time since the war's outset, victory felt truly attainable.