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

Fire in the hole

The Japanese devils have gone to heaven.

Literally, heaven.

That powerful explosive charge blew Captain Inoue and Private Kobayashi into the air.

Fifty meters away, inside the cockpit of vehicle 101, "Qilin".

Through the observation screen in front of him, the anvil clearly captured the entire process of the explosion and the "flight".

"Hey!" Iron Anvil slapped his thigh. "That's pretty powerful! The little devils are flying! Heh!"

He was laughing as he placed his right hand on the control stick of the coaxial machine gun.

With his left hand, he quickly tapped a few times on the control panel to bring up the high-precision shooting assistance mode.

In the center of the screen, the auto-locking frame had already captured the two largest clumps of flesh and blood falling from the sky.

"Come on, come on," Iron Anvil licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with the excitement of a hunter spotting a moving target, "Let you little devils see what's what—"

"Look at our marksmanship in 2026!"

He gently pressed the fire button with his thumb.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat—! ! !

The 12.7mm coaxial machine gun on the side of the turret of vehicle 101 fired short and accurate two-round bursts.

The muzzle flash disappeared in the twilight.

Two bullets, tracing almost straight trajectories, flew towards the two targets in the air at a speed exceeding eight hundred meters per second.

Captain Inoue and Private Kobayashi, who had already flown into the sky, were not completely dead yet.

It could be said that it is experiencing a final burst of energy before it dies down.

Just then, bullets from the coaxial machine gun arrived.

The first shot hit Captain Inoue's knee.

puff!

The kneecap shattered, and the broken leg split in two.

The second shot hit the same section of the thigh.

puff!

The flesh and blood shattered further.

"Ugh~" Captain Inoue, who was in mid-air, wanted to cry out in pain, but his mouth was full of blood and foam.

"Did you see that?! Did you see that?! My God! That marksmanship! That marksmanship is incredible!"

"Hit! Hit them all! Even those flying in the air got shattered!"

"Sharpshooter! No, gunner! No, god... god can do anything! Awesome!!!"

That roar was like flipping a switch.

The trenches erupted in chaos!

"Well done!!!"

"That felt so good! So damn satisfying!"

"Aren't those little devils arrogant?! Don't they have tanks?! Keep charging! Let's see how many times you can get to the sky!"

Cheers, roars, laughter, and some people even excitedly banged their bayonets against their helmets, making a clanging sound.

The despair, fear, anger, and frustration that had been suppressed for four whole days...

At this moment, the bloody yet "satisfying" fireworks display in the sky, and the superb marksmanship, ignited and released everything!

An old soldier with a missing front tooth laughed until tears streamed down his face, wiping away his tears while cursing:

"You damned Japanese devils...you've finally met your match...you dared to bomb my brothers...you dared to shell them..."

"Serves him right, he fucking deserves it!"

Beside him, Yao Shan stared at the sky with his mouth agape, then looked at the shop behind him, where his brother was undergoing surgery.

Yao Shan murmured:

"Brother...did you see that...moving target practice...aerial shooting."

The one-eyed company commander leaned against his firing position.

The tattered cloth wrapped around his chest was stained red with the blood he coughed up.

But he wasn't coughing at that moment.

He simply raised his one still-functioning eye and looked up at the sky.

Looking towards the dissipating blood-red fireworks display.

Looking out at the setting sun, the three "Qilin" tanks stood like mountains in front of us.

Looked for a long time.

Then, he took a deep breath.

With the last bit of strength in his chest, he roared out in a hoarse voice:

"anvil--!!!"

His voice was hoarse, yet it carried an almost manic exhilaration:

"Not bad marksmanship!"

"That's fucking awesome!!!"

After yelling, he coughed violently, coughing up blood, but he was smiling.

He grinned, revealing his blood-stained teeth, laughing like a madman.

The embroiderer's smiling voice came through the communication channel.

She was still in vehicle 102, the turret still pointing northwest, but she had clearly seen what had just happened through the shared footage via the data link.

"Anvil, not bad," the embroiderer's voice was teasing, "quite accurate at hitting moving targets."

"Not bad," Iron Anvil chuckled, scratching the back of his head—though no one could see it—"mainly because those two Japanese devils flew pretty accurately, like target practice machines on a training field."

"You wish." The embroiderer chuckled softly over the communication channel.

"anvil."

"Um?"

"Of those four shots, the third one was off by two centimeters."

The anvil was taken aback: "Huh?"

"Shoot him in the abdomen." The embroiderer's voice was tinged with laughter. "If it had been two centimeters to the right, it would have broken his spine, and he would have died even faster, and his landing posture would have been more... 'artistic'."

anvil:"……"

"Overall, it's alright," the embroiderer added. "I'd give it an 85 out of 100."

Iron Anvil was both amused and exasperated: "Embroiderer, is this some kind of assessment?"

"Yes," the embroiderer said seriously, "You passed the marksmanship test."

She paused, then said softly:

"That was a beautiful play."

"real."

The commander of vehicle 103, codenamed "Breacher," also spoke up on the communications channel:

"anvil."

"What's wrong? Are you going to rate me too?"

"No," the door-breaking man's voice was calm. "What I meant was, next time there's a 'target' like this, save one for me."

Why?

"I also want to have some fun."

There was a moment of silence on the communication channel.

Then, the two of them burst into laughter at the same time.

Hearing the two people laughing loudly on the communicator, the embroiderer shook her head helplessly and said:

"Hurry up and clean up the battlefield. The Japanese mortar positions may be regrouping, so don't be careless."

"Understood." The anvil immediately stopped smiling and his expression became serious again.

He switched the observation scope to mode and began scanning the ruins area ahead.

On the screen, thermal imaging showed that there were still sporadic Japanese troops active, but they were no longer organized and were mostly retreating.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the trenches, the Chinese defenders were cheering and shouting, their morale at its peak.

Looking at the soldiers, their faces covered in dust and scars but their eyes shining, and at the one-eyed company commander coughing up blood while laughing, Tiezhen suddenly felt a pang of sadness.

These are the predecessors from 1937.

These are the living, breathing people behind those cold, hard numbers in textbooks.

They held out here for four days.

They used their flesh and blood, their lives, to drag the Japanese army down inch by inch…

…………

"When I saw the Japanese soldiers flying into the sky today, it reminded me that war can be fought with a smile."

—Wang Xiaoshuan, soldier of the 7th Company, 3rd Battalion, diary