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

"Your Excellency..." the staff officer next to him said in a low voice, "I heard that many officers and soldiers from the 3rd and 9th Divisions who were withdrawn from the front lines have also ended up like this."

The military doctor said he had severe "ballistic shock syndrome" and had been driven insane by fright.

"This illness... it seems to be contagious? They're all muttering the same things, like impenetrable tanks and demons..."

Sasaki Toichi suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

Could it be that we really encountered a ghost?

Why does it feel like there's a chilly wind blowing in broad daylight?

Seeing that they couldn't get any useful information out of him, keeping this crazy captain around was just a waste of medical expenses and would also undermine morale.

A flash of disgust crossed Sasaki's eyes as he turned to look at his adjutant.

The adjutant was a lieutenant colonel, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, and was very refined. He looked like the kind of bookish aristocrat who had just graduated from the Army University and was there to get his resume polished.

"Sato-kun."

Sasaki pointed at the captain on the ground and said coldly, "This piece of trash is useless now. Give him a quick death; consider it the last act of mercy for a samurai."

"what?"

Lieutenant Colonel Sato was taken aback; he clearly had never done such dirty work before.

He looked at Sasaki Toichi with some bewilderment, his gaze fixed on the sharp-looking sword at the brigade commander's waist.

His eyes seemed to be asking: "Then lend me your knife? I don't have a gun with me."

Sasaki was a little annoyed.

These young noblemen have absolutely no sense of propriety!

He glared at Sato and slapped him hard on the waist: "Use your own knife, is it just for show?!"

"Oh! Oh! Hello!"

Lieutenant Colonel Sato suddenly realized what was happening and hurriedly drew his katana from his waist.

"Clang—"

The blade was drawn from its sheath, gleaming coldly.

The hilt is engraved with exquisite family crests, and the guard is made of pure gold. It is clearly a priceless family heirloom, several times more luxurious than the sword of Brigadier General Sasaki.

Lieutenant Colonel Sato gripped his sword with both hands and walked up to the captain who was still muttering "devil."

He swallowed hard, his face filled with fear and tension, looking more like a victim than the wounded man on the ground.

"That...that...private Marseille..."

He closed his eyes and suddenly stabbed her with the knife.

"puff!"

The position was off, and it poked him in the shoulder.

"ah!!!"

The captain, who had been acting crazy, was jolted back to his senses by the excruciating pain and let out a pig-like scream.

"Baka! Be more accurate!" Sasaki Toichi frowned as he watched from the side.

"Yes! Yes!"

Lieutenant Colonel Sato was so frightened that his hand trembled, and he pulled out the knife again.

"puff!"

This time, the needle hit his stomach.

"Ah—!!!" The captain rolled on the ground in pain.

It wasn't until the third stab that Lieutenant Colonel Sato finally pierced the heart.

The unfortunate Japanese captain, before he died, stopped muttering about the devil and instead stared intently at Lieutenant Colonel Sato, his eyes filled with resentment and incomprehension.

It's as if it's asking: You promised to give me a quick death!

Just then, several officers responsible for cleaning up the battlefield came running over, panting.

"Reporting to the Brigade Commander!"

The leading officer saluted and reported to his superior, his expression strange.

"We searched the entire battlefield... but the enemy left no useful information."

"The strangest thing is... we haven't found the wreckage of a single enemy tank, or even any fragments of a larger anti-tank gun."

"What?!"

Sasaki Toichi suddenly turned around, looking at the craters all over the ground and the wreckage of his own tank.

How is that possible?

How could the enemy have suffered zero casualties in such a fierce battle?

Even if none were destroyed, surely there were at least some that broke down or had broken tracks?

"Did they haul all the wreckage away? In such a short time?"

Sasaki felt a chill rise from the soles of his feet.

He remembered the "devil" that the mad captain had mentioned.

"Could it be... really haunted?"

-----

On November 22, the gloomy sky finally cracked open, and the long-awaited sunshine shone on the vast Yangtze River.

But the sunlight brought little warmth; instead, it illuminated a heartbreaking and tragic scene.

The convoy of the Provisional 8th Army wound its way along the riverside highway and finally arrived at the legendary "end of the river and head of the sea".

Jiang Yin.

This is the narrowest part of the lower reaches of the Yangtze River, with a width of only 1.25 kilometers.

Throughout history, the defense of the river has always been tied to the defense of Jiangyin. It can be said that, like Pengcheng in the Central Plains, this place has witnessed countless fierce battles.

Lin Feng pushed open the top cover of the armored command vehicle and raised his binoculars to look at the river.

The wide river is no longer bustling with boats racing as it once was.

Instead, there were masts pointing towards the sky and half of the ship's hull protruding above the water.

That was the swan song of the Great Xia Navy—sunken ships sealing off the river.

In order to prevent the Japanese fleet from sailing up the Yangtze River and heading straight for Nanjing, the navy painfully scuttled almost all of its main warships and requisitioned merchant ships, using steel and sunken ships to build a tragic defensive line at the bottom of the river.

"That was truly tragic..."

Inside the armored vehicle, Zhao Yushu peered through the observation window at the dead warships on the river, his voice trembling slightly.

The convoy continued forward, and the majestic Huangshan Fort came into view.

The fortifications here are built on the steep mountainside, with reinforced concrete gun emplacements hidden in the lush forest, and large cannon barrels pointing towards the river.

Compared to the bare bunkers built on the plains along the Wu-Fu line, where even the keys are nowhere to be found, the defense system here is obviously much more reliable and comprehensive.

"call--"

The entire army, from officers to grooms, breathed a long sigh of relief.

The sense of urgency of being chased and beaten by the Japanese devils, and the possibility of being surrounded and killed at any moment, was finally relieved briefly here.

But this was just a breather.

Lin Feng returned to the car, but his expression did not improve.

Throughout the journey, the car radio broadcast nothing but suffocating bad news, like a series of death warrants:

"Buzz... Suzhou has fallen... Our army is in retreat..."

"The Changshu defense line has been breached... The Japanese 16th Division is advancing westward at breakneck speed..."

"Yixing has fallen..."

"Taihu Lake has fallen..."

"Wuxi has fallen..."

Lin Feng looked at the map; the red arrows, like venomous snakes, were frantically moving towards Jiang Yin Fortress from the east and south.

"The Wu Fu line... is completely gone."

"The Xicheng Line... is half gone, and Jiangyin Fortress is the last stronghold."

The 11th, 13th, and 16th Japanese divisions, nearly three in number, are launching a concentric assault on this location.

Meanwhile, the Japanese navy was also busy on the river.

Although the main warships were blocked by the sunken ships, the shallow-draft gunboats and minesweepers were trying to squeeze through the gaps like flies.

The most dangerous part is the top of the head.

The days of rain have stopped, and the weather has cleared up.

This means that the Japanese air force will no longer be restricted.

The convoy drove into an open area at the foot of Huangshan Mountain.

This place has changed.

Neat rows of military tents stretched out in a row, with wisps of smoke rising from their chimneys, and the air filled with the aroma of rice porridge and pickled vegetables.

"Travel seat!"

"Young Master! Young Master!"

Lin Peiji and Zhao Dashan had been waiting for a long time, and when they saw Lin Feng's command vehicle, they excitedly ran over.