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

The embroiderer stood in the observation position.

Her eyes remained fixed on the yellowish-brown tide that was slowly rolling in from the northwest.

The details became increasingly clear in the telescope's field of view.

At the very front were nine Type 94 light tanks.

That thin-skinned iron box, which later military enthusiasts jokingly called the "bean tank," had armor that was only 12 millimeters thick at its thickest point, enough to be penetrated by a machine gun.

But on the Chinese battlefield in 1937, it remained an undisputed steel behemoth and a nightmare for infantry.

Nine tanks were arranged in three wedge-shaped attack groups, about fifty meters apart, like three sharp knives, thrusting straight into the Chinese positions.

Behind the tanks were densely packed infantrymen.

At least three regiments, more than four thousand men.

They were divided into squads, scattered around the tanks, using the tanks as mobile cover, and advancing in turns.

They were clearly veteran Japanese soldiers who had fought in many battles.

Further away, one can vaguely see artillery positions being deployed, with short, thick gun barrels being adjusted for elevation.

The embroiderer slowly lowered the binoculars, then turned around and looked behind her.

Three "Qilin" main battle tanks, like three silent steel behemoths, lay quietly in the bunkers behind the trenches.

The dark gray composite armor gleamed with a cold metallic sheen in the morning light, and the barrel of the 125mm smoothbore cannon drooped slightly, like the breath of a sleeping dragon.

"The 5th Infantry Brigade of the 3rd Division is the elite of the Japanese army."

"Therefore, I will command this battle."

"Kirin 101, Anvil".

"Here," a steady male voice replied.

"Your target—" the embroiderer pointed northwest, "directly ahead, the first wave of Japanese tanks. Nine Type 94 tanks, three attack teams. I want you to take them all out. Prioritize the command vehicle and the ones at the very front."

Iron Anvil wiggled his fingers and looked at the surging Japanese troops: "Iron Anvil, received. I'm going to take down the elite."

The embroiderer's voice continued:

"Kirin 103, the door breaker."

"arrive."

"Your target—" The embroiderer shifted her finger slightly, "The Japanese artillery positions that are being deployed behind enemy lines. See the smoke behind that depression? That's their artillery position. About two kilometers away. Use high-explosive shells for saturation fire. I want their artillery to be scrap metal before they even fire."

The breacher paused for a second, seemingly calculating the trajectory: "A bit far, but no problem. High-explosive grenades, saturation fire. Make sure they're silenced."

"As for my target," the embroiderer's finger finally pointed to the densely packed Japanese infantry surging in like a tide, "Infantry. Charging infantry."

Her voice suddenly turned cold, like the Siberian wind:

"Use shrapnel."

"Use machine guns."

"Use every weapon at my disposal."

"I want that area—"

The embroiderer paused, then spoke slowly and deliberately:

"It will become hell."

Once the order is given, it must be carried out resolutely.

The three "Kirin" tanks instantly entered combat mode.

On the Chinese side, Chen Dashan and his soldiers watched the three steel behemoths that had suddenly "come to life," observing the smooth and powerful movements of their turrets as they slowly rotated, and the heart-pounding sense of oppression as their gun barrels rose...

There was no more despair in his heart.

What follows is confidence.

"Company Commander Chen." The embroiderer suddenly poked her head out from inside the Qilin 102 tank:

"Take your men and prepare for battle. The Third Division has gone all out this time; what follows will be a real battle."

Chen Dashan nodded without asking any further questions.

He turned around and roared at the soldiers in the trenches:

"Everyone. Prepare for battle!"

The soldiers sprang into action.

Everyone knows—

The real storm is coming...

To the northwest, the Japanese tank formations have entered the effective range of the Kirin's main gun.

Distance: 800 meters.

For a 125mm smoothbore cannon, this distance is like shooting a target ten meters away with a sniper rifle.

"Kirin 101, target locked."

The sound of an anvil came through the communication channel:

"Target number one, Type 94 command vehicle, vehicle number '3-105', confirmed."

"Target number two, the left flank tank of the vanguard, number '3-107', confirmed."

"Target number three..."

The fire control computer has completed all calculations.

Wind speed, humidity, temperature, initial velocity decay of artillery shells, Earth's rotational deflection...

The screen displayed a green "READY" message.

The anvil's fingers gently rested on the launch button.

"Fire."

Without any hesitation.

There were no warnings.

They didn't even give the Japanese army any time to react.

The first 125mm high-explosive armor-piercing shell burst out of the gun barrel with an initial velocity of over 1700 m/s!

The muzzle brake spewed out a huge burst of flames and thick smoke, like a flower of death blooming in an instant.

The cannon recoiled violently, the hydraulic system emitted a dull "hiss" sound, and then quickly returned to its original position.

The shells flew through the air—

Then--

boom--!!!!

The deafening explosion shattered the silence of the early morning.

The first Type 94 command vehicle didn't even have time to rotate its turret.

The 125mm armor-piercing projectile, like a red-hot iron rod, easily tore through its frontal armor, which was only 12mm thick.

It's not a penetration.

It's tearing.

The armor plates were torn open like paper, revealing the narrow and cramped crew compartment inside.

The shell penetrated the vehicle and detonated in the confined space.

The shaped charge warhead releases temperatures of thousands of degrees and a jet of metal that travels at thousands of meters per second.

Then, the entire Japanese tank, like a lit gasoline drum, suddenly jumped half a meter into the air!

Then, it exploded from the inside!

The turret was blown away by the terrifying force of the explosion, tumbling through the air, trailing flames and thick smoke, tracing a strange parabola before crashing heavily into the Japanese infantry group behind it.

"Bang--!"

A heavy metallic clanging sound.

A dozen or so unlucky Japanese soldiers were smashed into mincemeat.

More soldiers were knocked over by flying debris and shockwaves.

The vehicle body turned into a fiercely burning fireball, with flames gushing out from every hatch and every hole, distorting the surrounding air.

The three occupants inside—

Commander, gunner, and driver.

He didn't even have time to scream.

In that instant, it was vaporized by the high temperature, torn apart by the metal jet, and shattered by the shock wave of the explosion.

"Banzai—!!!"

The shouts of the charging Japanese troops behind them abruptly ceased.

It felt like someone was choking me.

The soldiers in the front ranks stared in disbelief at the command vehicle that had transformed into a torch, and at the turrets that were tumbling through the air.

The fervent expression on his face froze instantly.

Then, it slowly turned into astonishment, then into confusion, then into...fear.

Before they could even react—

The second shell has arrived.

boom--!!!

The second Type 94 tank followed in its footsteps.

Both were penetrated from the front, both resulted in internal explosions, and both turned into burning scrap metal.

This time, however, the turret flew higher and hit farther.

Then came the third one.

The fourth vehicle.

The anvil was as calm as a pre-programmed machine.

Aim, fire, hit.

Aim again, fire again, and hit again.

His breathing was steady, his fingers were steady, and his eyes remained fixed on the scope.

On the screen, targets turn red and "DESTROYED" one by one.

Nine Type 94 tanks—

The Type 94, hailed as the "Iron Vanguard of the Imperial Army"—

In just one minute and forty seconds, it was all reduced to burning wreckage.

They lay paralyzed on the road to the charge, billowing black smoke.

Like nine huge, ugly tombstones.

The grave marked by the myth of the invincibility of the Imperial Army.

At that moment, flames also spewed from the muzzle of the "Kirin 103".

The breacher's target: the Japanese artillery position that had just been deployed two kilometers away.

A 125mm high-explosive grenade, with a piercing whistle, ripped through the sky.

For the Japanese artillery in 1937, they had never experienced such a blow.

In their understanding, artillery battles are like this:

Both sides deployed their positions beyond visual range, using forward observation posts to correct the point of impact, firing a salvo, then correcting again, then firing another salvo...

Slow and cumbersome, but in line with Japanese military textbooks.

But today—

The shells didn't come from the front.

Instead, it fell from the sky at an almost vertical angle!

Covert fire!

The first high-explosive shell landed at the edge of the artillery position.

boom--!!!

The explosion sent mud and debris flying into the sky, creating a crater more than ten meters in diameter.

A Type 92 infantry gun was overturned, its barrel twisted like a pretzel.

The artillerymen in the vicinity were thrown away by the shockwave, and when they landed, they were bleeding from all seven orifices and their internal organs were ruptured.

Before they could even react—

The second shot, the third shot, the fourth shot...

Shells rained down!

It was terrifyingly accurate.

Every shell landed in the area with the most concentrated artillery fire.

Each explosion took away several cannons and dozens of lives.

Before the Japanese artillery could even fire, it was blown to pieces.

The gun barrel twisted and broke.

The gun carriage was broken and deformed.

The ammunition box exploded, turning the entire area into an inferno.

The artillerymen screamed and cried, throwing away their shells and fuses, scattering like headless flies amidst the explosions and shrapnel.

"hidden--!!!"

An officer shouted hoarsely.

But where to hide?

The shells were falling from the sky!

The anti-artillery holes they dug were designed for horizontal firing ranges, and were useless against vertically falling shells.

A shell landed directly at the entrance of a gun emplacement.

boom--!!!

The dozen or so artillerymen inside were blown into the air, along with the tunnel.

Limbs and torsos mixed with mud and wood chips fell like rain.

Within thirty seconds, the entire artillery position was transformed into a sea of ​​fire and ruins.

Thick smoke billowed straight into the sky.

The flames devoured everything that could burn—cannons, ammunition boxes, and… people.

The screams gradually faded away.

It's not that everyone ran away.

Everyone is dead.

The breacher lowered his scope and calmly reported:

"Target area has been cleared."

"Artillery position confirmed destroyed."

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

Then came the embroiderer's voice:

"receive."

"Turn around to support the infantry zone."

"clear."

Meanwhile, the embroiderer herself had already begun killing the infantry.

The turret of the "Kirin 102" she was piloting slowly turned toward the surging Japanese infantry.

More than four thousand people.

A dark mass, still charging forward.

They charged toward the Chinese position, bayonets at their ready, which they considered "vulnerable."

The embroiderer looked at the distorted and fanatical faces in the magnifying glass and smiled.

Then she chose shrapnel.

This is an extremely cruel weapon.

The shells do not explode upon landing, but rather at a predetermined altitude in the air—usually fifty to one hundred meters—releasing thousands of steel balls and pre-formed fragments.

Like a giant, invisible scythe, it sweeps away all life below.

"Distance 600 meters, wind speed level 3, humidity 70%..."

The embroiderer read the data aloud, her fingers flying across the fire control panel.

The cannon muzzle was slightly raised, pointing towards the sky above the yellowish-brown waves.

"Fire."

The first shrapnel shell burst from the gun barrel.

The shell flew through the air for two seconds.

Then, it was precisely detonated fifty meters above the Japanese infantry group.

puff--!

It wasn't a deafening roar.

It was a dull sound, like a watermelon being smashed.

Then--

"Swish, swish, swish—!!!"

The piercing shriek of the steel balls and fragments flying at high speed was like the scythe of death slicing through the air.

Below, it felt as if they had been struck by an invisible giant hammer.

A group of ochre-colored figures fell down in unison.

He didn't fall down after being shot.

It was torn apart by steel balls and shrapnel.

The dozens of Japanese soldiers closest to the explosion's epicenter were instantly riddled with holes.

Soldiers a little further away were also hit by steel balls and shrapnel.

Someone had half their face shaved off.

Someone was shot through the chest.

Someone had their arm broken.

Someone was blinded.

Screams, wails, and desperate cries instantly replaced Banzai's roars.

Blood stained the earth red.

Limbs and severed arms were scattered everywhere.

But this is only the beginning.

The embroiderer did not stop.

The second shrapnel shell.

The third shot.

Fourth shot...

The shells were rained down as if they were free.

Each shot exploded amidst the Japanese troops.

Each shot took dozens of lives.

At the same time, the Kirin 102's coaxial machine gun and remote weapon station also opened fire.

7.62mm machine gun bullets, like two deadly whips, lashed at any Japanese soldiers who dared to charge.

When a bullet hits the body, it doesn't make a "plop" sound.

It was a "slap slap" sound.

Like a whip lashing against wet cowhide.

Because the distance is too close, the bullet's kinetic energy is too great; if it hits a human body, it will directly blast open a bloody hole the size of a bowl.

The 12.7mm heavy machine gun was specifically targeted at officers and machine gunners who attempted to organize a counterattack.

A Japanese major brandished his sword and roared "Forward!" as he tried to reorganize the ranks.

next second.

A 12.7mm bullet struck his chest, and the immense kinetic energy tore his body in two.

His body was severed in two, flew more than ten meters away, and then crashed to the ground.

A Japanese machine gunner lay prone behind the burning wreckage of a tank, attempting to set up his machine gun to return fire.

He had only shown half of his head.

"Bang!"

The helmet, along with the head inside, exploded.

The Japanese army's charge was like hitting an invisible steel dam.

The soldiers in the front row fell in droves, like wheat being harvested.

Many of the Japanese soldiers behind were so frightened they went insane.

I have absolutely no idea what's going on.

Who are they?

It was an elite infantry regiment of the 5th Brigade of the 3rd Division of the Japanese Army.

He charged through the Shanghai battlefield, rampaging through the enemy lines and rarely encountering a worthy adversary.

But what did they see now?

He saw his companion's body being torn apart by steel balls.

I saw the officer being shot in two by a heavy machine gun.

I saw the tank turn into a burning coffin.

I saw the artillery positions turn into a sea of ​​fire.

Even more frightening is-

They didn't even know where the enemy was!

Those deadly shells and bullets came from that silent Chinese position.

But there was nothing there but scorched earth and ruined fortifications!

There was no smoke from artillery.

There was no fire from the machine gun.

There weren't even many people around!

It's like... Death wielding its scythe invisibly...