You were tasked with guarding the Sihang Warehouse, and you brought out a Tiger tank?

Meanwhile, not far from the riverbank, on the Bund, in a European-style building.

The top-floor conference room of the Municipal Council building in the International Settlement.

The long table was full of people.

Consul John, Consul General of the White Eagle, Consul of Gaul, Consul of Italy...

The gentlemen, who are usually dressed in suits and chatting amiably, now all had furrowed brows, and their coffees had long since gone cold.

The scene was filled with smoke.

Pipe smokers, cigar smokers, and cigarette smokers were all puffing out clouds of smoke, as if this could dispel the anxiety in their hearts.

"Gentlemen," Consul John cleared his throat and tapped the table, "we must reassess the situation. General Lin on the other side... he is clearly determined to fight to the bitter end."

The Gallic consul shrugged: "How many Japanese have died? Hundreds? Thousands? And those severed heads... This is a blood feud."

"That's not the problem." The White Eagle Consul General took off his glasses and rubbed his nose vigorously. "The problem is that Japan has been completely enraged."

This morning, my military attaché reported that the Japanese have added at least two more regiments of troops, along with more heavy artillery, to Zhabei.

The Independent Heavy Artillery 5th Brigade… Do you know what that means? A 240mm caliber heavy cannon, capable of destroying a sturdy building with a single shot.

The conference room was deathly silent.

The Italian consul muttered under his breath, "They probably won't shell the concession, will they? That would violate international law..."

"International law?" Consul John sneered. "When your troops are wiped out a block away, when your soldiers' heads are being rolled around like balls, do you still care about international law?"

What the Japanese need now is a respectable victory that can save face.

If the Sihang Warehouse cannot be captured after a prolonged siege…

He paused, his voice growing colder: "What if they determine that a flanking maneuver from the direction of the concession is the only option?"

Everyone shuddered.

The Japanese soldiers, in a bloodthirsty frenzy, stormed directly into the foreign concession.

Even if it's just "borrowing a route"?

The police officers of the Municipal Council and the symbolic garrisons of various countries were nothing compared to the organized Japanese divisions.

"We must put pressure on both sides." The White Eagle Consul General put his glasses back on.

"Propose the strongest diplomatic note to Japan, demanding absolute guarantees for the safety of the concession. At the same time... also persuade the troops stationed on the other side to stop while they are at their limit, or to withdraw gracefully."

"Retreat? Where to?" the Gallic consul retorted. "Swim across the Suzhou Creek? Will those little dwarfs just stand by and watch?"

Another silence followed.

This was supposed to be a well-coordinated "exhibition match".

A symbolic force puts on a symbolic resistance, demonstrating the indomitable will of Great Xia, before "retreating in glory" under diplomatic mediation.

All parties have a way out.

But now, the stage has been smashed, the actors are in a bloodthirsty frenzy, and the audience is starting to panic.

The script is completely out of control.

----

In the press club on another floor of the building, Hans journalist Wolfgang was rapidly typing on a typewriter.

He was one of the few foreign journalists allowed to enter the Sihang Warehouse for interviews.

His recent observations, coupled with the panic among the high-ranking officials in the foreign concessions today, inspired him to write prolifically.

"...This is no longer a carefully orchestrated, symbolic resistance for propaganda purposes," he wrote, not bothering to flick the ash that fell onto the manuscript. "It is a steel nail, hardened and driven into the throat of the invaders by the resisters in the most brutal way."

"At first, the gentlemen of the concession would stand on their safe balconies with coffee in hand, watching the fireworks across the river as if they were watching a gladiatorial contest."

They talked about courage, symbolism, and international perspective.

But now, the coffee is cold, and the balcony is empty.

The gentlemen retreated into the sturdy conference room, their faces pale as they calculated the risks.

Thinking of his homeland, the humiliating Treaty of Versailles, and the occupied Rhineland, Wolfgang pounded on his typewriter.

"Because they suddenly discovered that the wildfire of war was unruly."

It won't obediently burn only in the designated area.

When one side is driven to the brink of despair, and the other side is thoroughly enraged, that fragile, symbolic sign of "neutrality" will be worthless in the face of heavy artillery and bayonets!

That Great Xia army is showing the world through its actions that this is their territory, and they can fight wherever they want!

-----

The camera then shifts back to Zhabei, to the surrounding streets of the Sihang Warehouse.

For well-known reasons, the Japanese marines withdrew completely from Zhabei without waiting for the army to take over the positions.

Lin Feng's troops then occupied the outer streets and rebuilt their fortifications.

At that moment, a group of Japanese engineers were lying on the ground, sweating profusely, using acetylene torches to cut through the anti-tank barriers in the middle of the road.

"Quick! Saw these steel bars in half!"

It was welded together by the engineering company of the 1st Honor Brigade using steel rails and angle iron. It was so sturdy that it was outrageous, and it was a nightmare for those small Japanese tanks.

Behind the ruins not far away, a heated argument was taking place.

The two sides arguing were a major infantryman from the Japanese 3rd Division and a lieutenant colonel from the 3rd Independent Tank Regiment, which had been urgently dispatched.

"Baka! Why aren't you attacking?!"

The infantry major pointed to the empty street ahead, spitting all over the face of the tank lieutenant colonel:

"The engineers have already cleared a path, why are your tanks still parked here? Do you expect us infantry to clear a way for you with our own bodies?!"

The tank crew lieutenant colonel was no pushover either; he wiped his face and sneered:

"Major, please understand the situation. This is urban warfare! Do you even understand what urban warfare is?!"

He pointed to the dark, gaping windows and the corners of the ruins:

"In this environment, the tank's visibility is extremely poor, and its mobility is also limited."

The Chinese have a large number of anti-tank rifles and Molotov cocktails. If we rush to the front, we'll be sitting ducks.

According to infantry manuals, in this situation, the infantry should advance in front of and to the sides of the armored vehicle to clear out the enemy anti-tank crews so that we can provide fire support.

"Bullshit! You're just a coward, aren't you?"

The infantry major was so angry that he drew his sword.

"You bunch of pampered soldiers hiding in tin turtles, you usually eat the best rice and receive the highest allowances, but now that it's time to fight, you want to hide in the back?"

We infantry are just ordinary mortals; you have armor. If you don't charge, who will?!

If we delay the general offensive, and the division commander blames us, we'll both have to commit seppuku.

The two argued fiercely, each trying to shift the blame.

It's not really their fault.

In previous battles, the Japanese soldiers, whether infantry or tanks, suffered heavy losses at Lin Feng's hands.

Everyone knows there's a pit ahead, and nobody wants to be the first to jump in.

In the end, it's still true that a higher-ranking official can crush you.

A messenger sped up on a motorcycle, bringing with him the division commander's death order:

"His/Her Division Commander orders: Tank units must lead the charge to breach the enemy's lines. Infantry will follow closely behind; anyone failing to launch an attack within ten minutes will be court-martialed!"

"Baka..."

The tank company commander was furious, his face turning green, but all he could do was spit out a curse and climb into the tank.

"All vehicles, advance! Be sure to search the windows on both sides."

"Boom!"

More than twenty Japanese tanks, painted with red paint and belching black smoke, reluctantly began to move.

Leading the way were several Type 94 ultralight tanks, followed by several Type 89 medium tanks.

They carefully pushed over the newly cut barricades, crushing the broken bricks and tiles, and advanced deeper into the street.

Behind them, Japanese infantrymen crouched low, pressed tightly against the wall, wishing they could shrink into the cracks between the bricks.