Not enough Japanese devils to kill? 1.4 billion people volunteer for the Battle of Shanghai.

A few minutes later, the angel arrived at a shop that had not yet collapsed.

The shop's walls are made of thick blue bricks, which look very sturdy.

the most important is--

Clean.

Relatively clean.

There were no corpses, no bloodstains, and not much dust.

The angels quickly set up a temporary surgery station in the shop.

It was called a surgical site, but in reality, it consisted of only a door panel that had been dragged out of the rubble and covered with a sterile sheet.

Just then, out of the corner of her eye, the angel caught a glimpse of the shadows in the corner of the shop.

There was a group of people there.

A dozen or so figures huddled together in the deepest corner, leaning against the cold blue brick wall.

They were all injured; some had been bandaged, while others were still bleeding.

But what truly startled the angels was their state of being—

It's not about waiting to die.

It means preparing to die.

The older veteran in the middle, who looked to be in his fifties, had a scar on his face that ran from his forehead to his chin, and was carrying a bundle of things in his arms.

There were six wooden-handled grenades, tightly bundled together with leg wrappings, their fuses twisted together, held firmly in his hand.

The other wounded around him were also holding weapons.

A young soldier was holding a rifle, but the barrel was bent, probably from hitting something with the butt of the rifle.

Another soldier was holding a large sword with several chips on the blade.

There was another one, who was holding only a sharp piece of broken brick, its edges honed to a fine point.

Their gazes caused the angel to pause for a moment.

It was a gaze that was both extremely calm and extremely intensely resolute.

It was the kind of look that said, "I'll stay here and if the Japanese dare to come in, we'll all die together."

Like a pack of wounded wolves, they retreated to the deepest part of their cave, baring their fangs, preparing for their final blow.

He wasn't sitting inside the cabin; instead, half of his body was exposed outside, holding a high-powered observation scope, observing the movements in the distance.

At the end of the street, in the ruins that had been ravaged by artillery fire countless times, a yellowish-brown shadow flickered.

Not one or two.

It's a complete film.

Like ants, they emerged from the cracks in the ruins and slowly gathered together.

"They're here," he whispered, his voice transmitted to every tank via the vehicle's communication system. "Southeast, 800 meters away, Japanese infantry, at least two companies."

He paused, then added:

"There are heavy machine gun positions being set up behind them. And... mortars."

The embroiderer's voice came from car number 102: "Quantity?"

"Around 300 infantry. At least six heavy machine guns. Four mortars, possibly more."

There was a three-second silence on the communication channel.

Then, the embroiderer smiled, a smile that was cold and sharp:

"Only this much?"

"Not even enough to fill a tooth gap."

But she knew that this was just the vanguard.

The Japanese 3rd Division, with more than 20,000 men, occupied most of the area north of Luodian three days ago.

They are like a group of sharks that have smelled blood; they will not give up after a few failures.

They will use more men, more artillery, and a more frenzied charge.

Even if it means piling up corpses, we must build a road.

This is because it is one of the last few strongholds in Luodian that are still in the hands of the Chinese army.

If we take it, we'll lose the entire Luodian area.

With Luodian lost, Baoshan's flank was exposed.

If Baoshan is lost, Shanghai will be in danger.

Therefore, they will definitely come.

Iron Anvil took a deep breath and pressed the full-band communication button:

"Attention all personnel, defensive formation is complete."

"Reiterate the operational principles—"

His voice, amplified by the tank's loudspeakers, resonated throughout the entire defensive line:

"Anything that appears within the field of fire, wearing a khaki uniform and carrying a weapon—"

"Whether it's a person, a dog, or anything else—"

"Smash them all into sieves."

"Do you understand?"

"Understood!" the soldiers of the 7th Company of the 3rd Battalion responded in unison, their voices hoarse but firm.