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

Wuhu~

This Japanese unit from the Southwest Detachment

They all went up into the sky.

The sight of them taking to the sky truly shocked many Japanese soldiers.

In various parts of the ruins, Japanese infiltration teams from other directions all stopped.

It is not an order.

It's instinct.

They witnessed the tragic state of the Northeast squad.

I witnessed the Northwest Squad's destruction.

I saw the entire Southwest Squad take off into the sky through the smoke.

That's the extreme blind spot where the turret can rotate.

The massive main gun barrel pointed northeast, and the coaxial machine guns on the front of the turret also faced that direction.

From the perspective of the 101 vehicle itself, the left rear is a "safe" blind spot.

The five Japanese soldiers' faces showed wild joy at surviving a disaster.

Leading the group was Sergeant Tanaka, 35 years old, a fisherman from Hiroshima, an excellent swimmer who could hold his breath underwater for two minutes.

He had a fresh shrapnel wound on his left cheek; the blood had already clotted, but he was happy at that moment.

「よかった!(That’s great!)」

Tanaka roared hoarsely, his voice filled with excitement, "We've broken in! We've really broken in!"

The four soldiers behind him—Kimura, Yamaguchi, Matsumoto, and Ito—were also trembling with excitement.

Kimura was from the same hometown as Tanaka; they fished together before enlisting in the army.

Yamaguchi was a typesetter at a Tokyo newspaper and knew the most characters; Matsumoto was a hunter from Hokkaido and was an excellent marksman.

Ito is the youngest, only seventeen years old. He is the son of an Osaka merchant and loves to tell jokes.

The five of them endured countless hardships, dodging at least three rounds of machine gun fire and passing through three deadly lines of fire.

Finally... we broke into this legendary "blind spot"!

They were less than thirty meters away from that enormous, gleaming steel behemoth!

They could even see the details of the rivets on the rear armor plating of the vehicle, and the faint blue smoke still rising from the exhaust pipes.

"The explosives! Quick!" Tanaka growled.

Matsumoto took out a heavy explosive pack wrapped in a raincoat from behind his back.

It was made of eight Type 97 hand grenades bundled together, powerful enough to blast through light armor.

Yamaguchi drew his bayonet from his waist, preparing to cut the securing rope.

Kimura and Ito raised their rifles, keeping watch for any possible Chinese infantry.

Victory seemed to be just around the corner.

Just get through it.

Just stick the explosive charge on.

As long as you pull the trigger...

Tanaka took a deep breath, preparing to give the order to charge.

But in that very instant—

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat—! ! !

The dull, deadly sound of machine gun fire came from the side!

It wasn't the machine gun from vehicle 101.

It's car number 102!

Inside the cockpit of vehicle 102, "Qilin," the embroiderer stared at the multi-functional observation screen in front of her.

Her turret was now pointing northwest, and her main gun was locked onto a building in the distance that might be hiding a Japanese command post.

But her attention was always partially focused on a split screen in the corner.

That was a real-time image of the left rear area of ​​vehicle 101, shared via the inter-vehicle data link.

When the five Japanese soldiers appeared in the blind spot of vehicle 101 and began preparing explosives, the embroiderer didn't even flinch.

She simply extended her right hand and lightly tapped a button on the control panel labeled "Coordinated Machine Gun - Side Cover".

Then, he placed his thumb on the fire button on the joystick.

On the side of the turret of vehicle 102, the 12.7mm coaxial machine gun, which is on the same axis as the main gun, has its muzzle adjusted to an angle of less than five degrees.

It wasn't aimed directly in front of it.

It's the side view.

It's the "blind spot" to the left rear of vehicle 101.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat—! ! !

Flames spewed out!

The 12.7mm bullet, like a precise and cruel steel whip, traced a tiny arc and lashed out at the five Japanese soldiers who had just been ecstatic!

The distance is less than 100 meters.

For the advanced fire control system of vehicle 102, this distance and this target are no different from hitting a stationary target.

Puff puff puff puff puff—! ! !

A continuous, dull sound of flesh being torn apart.

Before Sergeant Tanaka's smile could even fade, he was hit in the chest by at least three bullets simultaneously.

The immense impact sent him flying backward, crashing into the broken wall behind him. Tanaka, Hiroshima's best fisherman, capable of holding his breath underwater for two minutes, twitched twice like a fish thrown ashore, then lay still.

The other Japanese soldier, named Yamaguchi, had just reacted when a bullet pierced his helmet, entered through his forehead, and exited through the back of his head.

Yamaguchi, a typesetter at a Tokyo newspaper who knew many Chinese characters, suddenly lost consciousness.

The youngest, Ito, was a seventeen-year-old son of an Osaka merchant, and he loved to tell jokes.

He was hit in the abdomen by the first volley of bullets, and his intestines spilled out. He looked down at his protruding entrails, then collapsed to the ground, dying with his eyes wide open.

Five Japanese soldiers.

Just three seconds after rushing into the "blind spot" and thinking they were seeing the light of victory, they were completely wiped out by a merciless metal storm from the side.

Almost at the same time.

To the right front of vehicle 103 "Kirin", another group of Japanese troops also "successfully" captured the target.

They are smarter and more patient.

The team was led by Lieutenant Nishimura, 27 years old, a graduate of Sendai Normal School, who was originally supposed to be an elementary school teacher.

He wore glasses and looked refined, but he had a high level of tactical awareness.

Nishimura did not allow his men to directly engage in a direct, exposed charge.

He chose a partially collapsed but relatively sturdy brick wall for cover. This wall was located at another extreme blind spot where the 103 tank's turret could turn, out of reach of the main gun and the machine guns on the front.

Three people were hiding behind the wall.

Lieutenant Nishimura himself.

Captain Inoue, thirty years old, is Nishimura's old subordinate. He is taciturn, but he never compromises on orders.

Private Kobayashi, 20 years old, is an apprentice dyer in Kyoto. He is very skillful and this time he is responsible for carrying and assembling the explosive packs.

They had been lying in wait behind the wall for a full three minutes.

He carefully observed the rotation pattern of the turret of vehicle 103.

He was calculating the intervals between machine gun fire.

Waiting for the best opportunity.

Now, the time has come.

The turret of vehicle 103 had just completed a scan of distant targets and turned to the left.

According to Nishimura's calculations, it would take at least fifteen seconds for the turret to rotate back.

They were only 25 meters away from the tank.

"Now!" Nishimura whispered. "Charge! Inoue, cover us! Kobayashi, prepare the explosives!"

"Hi!" Kobayashi quickly unpacked his backpack, revealing the explosive pack.

Then, Nishimura, Kobayashi, and Inoue, the three Japanese soldiers, exchanged glances and nodded.

Then, Nishimura was the first to peek out from behind the wall—

"Let's go in—"

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat—! ! !

Machine gun fire erupted from another direction!

It's car number 101!

The anvil is inside the 101 tank "Kirin", and the turret is also pointing in another direction.

However, on the screen in front of him, in the shared view of the area to the right front of vehicle 103, the three heat source signals behind the wall had already been marked as "high threat targets".

The moment Nishimura leaned out, Tetsun didn't even look in that direction.

He simply used his left hand to press a preset shortcut key on the control panel called "Crossfire Support 103 Right Front".

The machine guns on the side of the turret of vehicle 101 have their muzzles slightly lowered to a specific depression angle.

Then, fire.

The bullet hit the target.

Lieutenant Nishimura felt a tremendous force strike him from the side, sending him flying sideways.

This teacher training student from Sendai, who should have been writing "Though mountains and rivers separate us, we share the same moon and sky" on the blackboard, was Nishimura.

At this moment, it's like a piece of paper torn to shreds by a gale; there isn't even a complete corpse left.

The moment Nishimura was shot, Captain Inoue swiftly retreated behind the wall, his back pressed against the cold bricks.

His instincts, honed over ten years as a shipyard riveter, gave him a beast-like intuition for danger.

At that moment, his heart was pounding, but his mind remained calm: the wall could stop bullets from the front, we were safe... and so on.

But Inoue suddenly realized something.

Just now...did Kobayashi already ignite the explosive charge?

Inoue turned his head stiffly.

He looked at Xiaolin, who was squatting by the wall.

Private First Class Kobayashi remained in a squatting position, but his right arm had been severed by a bullet.

His face showed no sign of pain, only an extreme, blank bewilderment.

And the lit Type 94 demolition charge lay there.

*Sizzle sizzle sizzle—!!!*

The fuse has already burned two-thirds of the way!

White smoke billowed out rapidly!

It was less than half a meter from the well's left foot.

He was less than a meter away from Kobayashi.

Captain Inoue's mind went blank.

It was also completely blank.

All tactics, all experience, all training to remain calm under pressure... all evaporated at this moment.

He stared, mouth agape, at the rapidly shortening fuse, at the smoking, deadly iron cylinder, then stiffly turned to look at Kobayashi.

Kobayashi was also looking at him.

The twenty-year-old apprentice from Kyoto was deathly pale. He looked down at his severed right arm, then looked up at Inoue, whose body was trembling violently.

Is it because it hurts too much?

It could also be because...

The fuse was down to its last ten centimeters.

Time seemed to stretch out.

At that moment, Inoue saw Kobayashi's lips move, but no sound came out; he could understand the lip movements.

"ごめんなさい..." (I'm sorry...)

What are you sorry for?

Sorry, I didn't throw it out?

I'm sorry for holding you back.

I'm still sorry... shall we die here together?

Inoue roared:

"Tabare! (Your mother!)"

He tried to push away that damned explosive charge.

But his body seemed frozen...

The brain frantically sends out commands, but the limbs remain completely still.

Only their eyes remained fixed on the fuse that was about to burn out.

Watching that tiny spark, hissing and relentlessly, inch by inch, approach the detonator interface of the explosive charge.

Kobayashi was watching too.

This apprentice, the most promising in Kyoto's "Otachibana-ya" workshop, was said by his master to have hands that were born for this job.

Sensitive and stable, it can detect the most subtle changes in temperature and concentration, and the gradient colors it produces are always the most even and vibrant.

Now, this hand is broken.

Private First Class Kobayashi's lips moved, as if he wanted to say something more.

It might be "I'm sorry".

It could be "Mom".

Then--

Fire in the hole