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

Despite the fact that the thirteen Chinese soldiers guarding the building were not afraid of sacrifice and fought bravely against the enemy.

But in the end, they still fell into a disadvantageous position.

They were seriously wounded and had been brought back from the front lines; many of them had difficulty even standing up.

Not to mention, they were facing the elite 5th Infantry Brigade of the Japanese 3rd Division.

…………

Shuanzhu, a child soldier from Henan, is currently hiding in a corner.

He was still clutching the brick in his hand.

He just used this brick to ambush and knock out a Japanese soldier.

But now, there is still one in front of him.

This Japanese soldier was a head taller than him.

Get a bigger physique.

His arms were thicker than his thighs.

Shuanzhu stood in front of him, as thin as a bean sprout, as if a gust of wind could knock him over.

The Japanese soldier looked down at him as if he were a chicken waiting to be slaughtered.

"Hey kid, where are your companions?"

Shuanzhu couldn't understand Japanese, but he understood the expression.

That expression said: You're finished.

He took a step back.

The Japanese soldiers took a step forward.

He retreated again.

The Japanese are pressing us again.

Soon, his back slammed against the wall.

There's no way to retreat.

A ferocious smile appeared on the Japanese soldier's face.

He reached out, grabbed Shuanzhu by the collar, and lifted him up like a chick!

"Let me go—!"

Shuanzhu struggled desperately, kicking his legs wildly in the air.

But the Japanese soldier's hand was like an iron clamp, completely still.

"Bang!"

The Japanese soldier slammed him to the ground!

Shuanzhu's back hit the gravel, and the pain brought tears to his eyes.

Before he could even get up, the Japanese soldier was already on top of him.

The heavy body pressed down on him, making it hard for him to breathe.

He struggled, but couldn't break free.

That Japanese soldier was too strong.

It's too heavy.

The Japanese soldier grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. He gripped a bayonet with both hands, the tip pointing downwards, and aimed it at Shuanzhu's face, intending to stab him.

Shuanzhu used both arms to firmly hold down the Japanese soldier's wrists.

His arms were as thin as hemp stalks, and the cut from the shell was still bleeding. Every bit of force he used felt like a knife cut.

But he dared not relax.

As soon as I loosened my grip, the knife came down.

"Little brat, you're pretty strong." The Japanese soldier grinned.

Shuanzhu couldn't understand the words, but he could see them.

That expression was saying: You're dead.

The tip of the knife pressed down a little further.

Shuanzhu's arm was shaking.

He was only sixteen years old and still growing, but he often went hungry and was very thin.

He couldn't hold on any longer.

The arm began to bend.

Press the tip of the knife downwards.

Six centimeters.

Five centimeters.

Four centimeters.

He could see every tiny scratch on the tip of the knife and smell the lingering blood on the blade.

The Japanese soldier pressing down on him deliberately let the tip of his knife press down little by little, like a cat playing with a mouse.

"Chinese child, are you afraid?"

Shuanzhu's tears finally flowed down.

It's not because I'm afraid of dying.

Because of--

He remembered the day he left home, his mother chased after him to the village entrance and gave him two boiled eggs.

"Kid, come back soon."

"Mother is waiting for you."

Now, he can't go back.

"Squad leader... squad leader..."

The voice was squeezed out of his throat, trembling with sobs.

"Squad leader... help me..."

That cry of "Squad Leader" pierced Li Dajiang's heart like a knife.

He was locked in combat with three Japanese soldiers, slashing left and right with his tiger-headed broadsword, his body splattered with blood.

But he heard it.

I heard Shuanzhu's sobbing voice.

He turned his head sharply—

Ten meters away, Shuanzhu was pinned down by the Japanese soldier, his two thin arms desperately supporting him, the tip of the knife about to fall.

"Shut up—!!!"

He roared and strode forward, trying to rush over.

Just took one step.

Three bayonets thrust at once!

Three Japanese soldiers surrounded him, their bayonets thrusting at him from three directions!

He sidestepped, dodging the first attack.

He swung his sword and parried the second one.

The third time, there was no dodge.

The bayonet slashed his left rib, and blood immediately gushed out, staining half of his body red.

But he couldn't care less about the pain.

He brandished his knife, trying to force the three Japanese soldiers back, and rushed over to save Shuanzhu.

But the three Japanese soldiers were like madmen, clinging to him relentlessly.

Don't let him leave.

Not an inch will be yielded.

"Shuttle—!" he roared again, his voice cracking.

A ferocious smile appeared on the face of the three-headed Japanese soldier.

They knew what he wanted to do.

They just wouldn't let him do it.

Old Gun heard it too.

He was fighting two Japanese soldiers with bayonets.

He was an accurate marksman and a ruthless knife fighter; he could take on two opponents single-handedly.

But the moment he heard the word "class monitor," he was distracted.

A Japanese soldier seized the opportunity to thrust his bayonet at him!

He dodged quickly, but not completely.

The knife tip sliced ​​through his shoulder, tearing open the flesh and causing blood to gush out.

He staggered backward and was forced into a corner.

make life difficult for.

It's impossible to get through.

"Little Shuanzi—!" he roared, his voice cracking from shouting.

He wanted to rush over.

But then the two Japanese soldiers pounced on him again.

He could only grit his teeth and keep fighting.

Keep killing.

In one corner, even the stone pillar heard it.

He had no legs and was lying on the ground, but his ears still worked.

Shuanzhu's sobbing voice pierced his ears like needles.

"It's Xiao Shuanzi... Xiao Shuanzi is dying..."

He crawled forward with all his might.

With his hands gripping the ground, his fingernails digging into the cracks in the bricks, he dragged his legless body forward inch by inch.

The pebbles on the ground cut his stomach, his chest, and his face.

But he couldn't care less.

All he knew was to crawl forward.

They climbed towards the direction of the anchor post.

A long trail of blood was left on the ground, a shocking sight.

But he climbed too slowly.

too slow.

"Old Zhao! Old Zhao!" he roared, "Carry me on your back! Let's go save Xiao Shuanzi!"

Old Zhao groped his way over.

He has no eyes, but he has ears.

He heard the roar of the stone pillar, the sob of the sash, and the sounds of flashing swords over there.

He touched the stone pillar and carried it on his back.

The stone pillar's body lay on his back, its two severed legs dangling in the air, blood dripping down onto Old Zhao.

"Which way?"

"Go straight! Keep going straight! Hurry!" Stone Pillar shouted from his back, his voice trembling with urgency. "Little Shuanzi is at the eleven o'clock position! Thirty meters! Hurry!"

Old Zhao took a step forward and charged ahead.

People without eyes can only rely on their ears and intuition.

He heard shouts of battle, the clash of swords and guns, and the ferocious laughter of the Japanese soldiers ahead.

He rushed in that direction.

He had only taken three steps.

A wooden stick swept in from the side!

He can't see.

The stone pillar saw it, but there wasn't time to warn them.

"Old Zhao—!"

"Bang!"

The wooden stick slammed down hard on Old Zhao's knee.

The sound of bones breaking, crisp as if a twig were snapped, was still clearly audible amidst the chaos of the battlefield.

Old Zhao screamed as he lost his balance and fell heavily to the ground along with the stone pillar on his back!

"Old Zhao! Old Zhao!"

Shi Zhuzi struggled to his feet and crawled to Old Zhao's side.

Old Zhao's knees are already deformed.

The white bone fragments pierced through the flesh, revealing a patch of blood.

He was trembling all over from the pain, and cold sweat poured down his forehead.

But he couldn't care less about the pain.

He lay on the ground, reaching out his hand towards the pillar, his fingers spread as if trying to grab something.

Roar:

"Little Shuanzi... Little Shuanzi..."

"My dear Henan native..."

That sound was heart-wrenching.

But he couldn't grasp anything in his hands.

All I managed to grab was a handful of cold, broken stones.

Ten meters away.

Shuanzhu's arm was about to give way.

The tip of the knife was getting closer and closer to his eyes.

Five centimeters.

Three centimeters.

One centimeter.

The Japanese soldier's face was right above his head. A ferocious smile, yellowed teeth, and beast-like eyes.

Shuanzhu opened his mouth wide and wept silently.

He knew he could never go back.

Can not go back.

"Mother..." he murmured in a voice only he could hear, "In my next life... I'll still be your child..."

Shuanzhu closed his eyes.

Waiting for that moment.

Wait for the pain.

Waiting to die.

In that very instant.

A dark blue shadow emerged from the darkness on the side.

Fast as lightning.

It was as fierce as thunder.

The Japanese soldier's sinister smile was still frozen on his face.

He didn't even have time to turn his head.

I didn't have time to see what was coming.

A hand covered in black armor had already seized his head.

His five fingers were like iron clamps.

Hard.

One turn.

"Snap—!"

A crisp sound of bones breaking.

Clean and neat.

Like breaking off a withered branch.

The Japanese soldier's face still held that sinister grin.

But his head had already turned 180 degrees.

His eyes were wide open, like a dead fish.

Blood and foam welled up in his mouth.

Then--

His body went limp, and he slid off Shuanzhu.

"Bang."

The heavy corpse crashed to the ground.

A cloud of dust rose up.

Shuanzhu lay there on the ground, stunned.

What about the knife?

Where are the Japanese soldiers?

What about the bayonet that's about to pierce the eye?

He was breathing heavily, and his whole body was trembling.

Then, he slowly raised his head.

There was a person standing in front of me.

No.

It is not a "person".

She is a female war goddess.

It was Fu Hao.

She came, treading through mountains of corpses and seas of blood...