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

The sun is setting and sinking below the horizon.

The golden afterglow shone on the ruins that had just witnessed a bloody battle.

It was sprinkled on the hundreds of Japanese soldiers' corpses around them.

It sprinkled on the smiling faces of the soldiers.

It was sprinkled on the three silent steel behemoths.

The turret hatch of the 101 "Kirin" was pushed open from the inside with a "click".

The anvil climbed out and stood on the turret, taking a deep breath of the cool evening air.

The air was still filled with the smells of gunpowder, blood, and scorched earth, but it didn't seem so suffocating at the moment.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from the tactical pocket on his chest.

It's not a product of this era; it's a special military supply from 2026. The cigarette box is made of waterproof composite material and is printed with a simple "August 1st" logo.

These cigarettes were originally meant for Lu Bei.

Tiezhen took the cigarette out of his mouth and cleared his throat.

His voice rang out in the twilight:

"Hey, brothers in the trenches."

The sound was calmer, yet clearer than before.

"battle--"

"It's not over yet."

He paused:

"The Japanese devils have retreated, but they might come back."

The sound of the anvil echoed through the ruins:

"It's getting dark; it's not good to fight at night."

"Hurry up—"

He took a deep breath, quickening his pace, as if he were assigning a combat mission:

"First, treat the wounded."

"We brought a medical kit, we'll bring it to you later. For those with serious injuries, treat them first, stop the bleeding, immobilize them, and prevent the injuries from worsening."

"Second, replenish ammunition."

"Pick up any usable guns the Japanese soldiers left behind. Collect as many bullets and grenades as you can. If that's not enough—"

He glanced at the direction his car was facing:

"We brought some, not much, but enough for an emergency."

Third, eat something.

Upon hearing this, many soldiers in the trenches subconsciously swallowed.

They have been without food for a long time.

Some people have only drunk a few mouthfuls of murky rainwater since noon yesterday.

"We brought compressed dry rations, high-energy ones, one piece can last a day. It's not much, but everyone gets a little to tide us over."

After stating these three points, the anvil remained silent for a few seconds.

Then, he added the last and most crucial point:

"fourth--"

His voice suddenly turned serious:

"Reinforce the fortifications."

"Inspect the trenches, see where they've collapsed, and repair them immediately. If you don't have enough sandbags, use the bodies of Japanese soldiers—don't think it's bad luck, the living are more important."

"Set up sentries, move forward fifty meters, and don't let the Japanese sneak up at night."

"Arrange for shifts and rest, and get some sleep whenever you can."

He paused, his voice softening:

"Next—"

"Leave it to us."

Four words.

Definitely.

The sun had completely set.

The last glimmer of golden light disappeared below the horizon.

Night fell, like a huge, deep blue velvet blanket slowly covering the ground.

There is no moon.

Only a few scattered stars shone timidly in the night sky after the smoke of battle had cleared.

In the trenches, the soldiers began to get busy.

The cheers gradually subsided.

But the atmosphere was completely different from any of the previous four nights.

There was no deathly despair.

There was no suppressed fear.

There was no numbness of "I might die tomorrow".

Instead, there is a kind of busyness that is... warm and welcoming.

The soldiers began their operation as instructed by the anvil.

The lightly wounded helped bandage the seriously wounded, using the strange medical kit that the anvil and others had sent: the bandages inside were elastic and breathable, and the hemostatic powder was a white powder that stopped the bleeding as soon as it was sprinkled on.

There are also disposable syringes filled with a clear liquid; when inserted, they significantly relieve the pain of the wounded.

Some people climbed out of the trenches and, under the moonlight and starlight, carefully groped around, picking up the weapons and ammunition left behind by the Japanese army.

Type 38 rifles, Type 14 pistols, grenades, ammunition boxes... Although many were damaged, some were still usable.

Many more men were reinforcing the fortifications. They dug with bayonets, filled their helmets with soil, and piled it up along the edges of the trenches.

What warmed the soldiers' hearts the most was the food that was distributed to them.

It was a small, silver, foil-wrapped cube. Inside the wrapper was a grayish-brown, hard-looking block.

Someone tried taking a bite—

"Hmm!"

His eyes widened instantly.

It's not that it tastes bad.

Yes...it's so delicious!

Salty and fragrant, with the flavors of meat and grains, it's tough, but it melts in your mouth as you chew, becoming more and more fragrant the more you chew.

More importantly, not long after eating, the burning hunger in my stomach was significantly relieved.

"What...is this?" a young soldier asked in a low voice.

"Compressed dry rations." A slightly older soldier next to me—who could read and had just looked at the words on the packaging—said in a low voice, "It says 'Individual field rations, 4500 kcal'... What does 4500 kcal mean?"

no one knows.

But everyone knows that this stuff is very filling.

Each person received one and a half pieces—they hadn't brought many anvils, so they had to eat them sparingly.

Everyone took small bites, chewed, and swallowed...