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

After the Republic's female warrior joined this small battlefield.

The offensive and defensive situation was reversed in an instant.

Of the remaining twelve Japanese soldiers, she killed six of them.

As can be seen, behind Fu Hao, lie six Japanese soldiers' corpses, including Squad Leader Ishida Koji.

The remaining six Japanese soldiers.

I'm completely dumbfounded.

They watched as a female soldier in inexplicable armor descended from the sky and began a killing spree.

However, the bayonet in his hand couldn't even break through the armor's defenses.

What kind of monster is this?

What kind of monster is this?

They wanted to run away.

But my legs wouldn't obey me.

Just then—

A loud shout exploded from behind them!

"kill--!!!"

Li Dashan!

The class monitor of Class 9 somehow managed to get behind them!

The wound on his left side was still bleeding, staining half of his body red.

The tiger-head broadsword in his hand had a bent blade, a cracked body, and the character "王" (king) on ​​the hilt was so bloody that it was no longer visible.

But none of that matters.

The important thing is—

The knife was still in his hand.

The Japanese soldiers were still in front of him.

"kill--!!!"

He roared and slashed down with his sword!

The first Japanese soldier hadn't even had time to turn around.

The blade sliced ​​into the back of his neck and exited through his throat.

"puff--!"

Blood spurted out and sprayed all over Li Dashan's face.

It's still warm.

It smelled fishy.

Li Dashan wiped his face and grinned.

"The second one—!"

He drew his sword and turned around.

The second Japanese soldier finally reacted and charged forward with his bayonet.

Li Dashan did not dodge.

It's not that you can't avoid it.

It's because they don't want to hide.

He stepped aside, dodging the blade, and then—

With a backhand slash, he cut the Japanese soldier's neck!

"Snap!"

The sound of bones breaking.

The Japanese soldier's head was tilted to one side, his eyes were wide open, and blood foam was gushing from his mouth.

He collapsed.

"happy--!!!"

Li Dashan looked up at the sky and roared.

The wound on his left rib was painful and bleeding, but he couldn't care less.

All he knew was—

Just now, they were the ones being overwhelmed and beaten.

Just now, they risked their lives to guard the area.

now--

The offensive and defensive strategies have shifted!

The third Japanese soldier charged up.

His face was contorted with an expression that was hard to tell whether it was fear or madness.

He held the bayonet and stabbed desperately.

a bit.

Two times.

Three times.

All the needles were pierced.

Li Dashan was like a real tiger, dodging and weaving amidst the flashing swords.

Then--

He plunged the knife into the Japanese soldier's stomach.

"ah--!!!"

The Japanese soldier screamed, his bayonet fell to the ground, and he knelt down, clutching his stomach with both hands.

Li Dashan did not draw his sword.

He just stared at him.

I saw him kneeling on the ground.

Watching him bleed.

Watching him fall down little by little.

Then, he kicked the corpse aside and pulled out his knife.

"Who else—!!!"

Li Dashan gripped the knife tightly in his hand.

Tiger-head broadsword.

Brother's knife.

Three more streaks of blood appeared on the blade.

Three streaks of Japanese blood.

He raised his hand and wiped the blade with his sleeve.

It was wiped very slowly.

Very meticulous.

"Dahe..."

He spoke softly, speaking to the knife:

"Did you see that?"

"Brother avenged you."

Six.

"My brother killed three."

He paused, then a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth:

"The rest were killed by that girl over there."

"She's amazing."

"Much better than your brother."

"But we're not bad either."

"Right?"

The knife remained silent.

no answer.

But Li Dashan knew that his brother in heaven would surely see this.

At the gap.

The remaining three Japanese soldiers tried to escape.

But the soldiers of Platoon 9 had already plugged the breach.

It's Old Gun.

It is a stone pillar.

It's Lao Zhao.

It is a bolt.

Old Gun stood on the left side of the gap.

His gun was long out of bullets, but he was holding a wooden stick in his hand.

One end of the stick was sharpened.

He used that sharpened wooden stick to stab a Japanese soldier in the stomach.

The Japanese soldier screamed and tried to pull it out.

But Old Gun didn't give him a chance.

He gripped the wooden stick with both hands and pushed it forward with all his might.

Keep pushing.

They nailed that Japanese soldier to the wall.

"kill--!!!"

He roared, his eyes red-rimmed.

The stone pillar has no legs.

But he has hands.

He crawled on the ground, dragging his legless body, until he reached the feet of a Japanese soldier. He crawled very quickly.

The Japanese soldier had dropped his gun and was trying to run outside when he suddenly felt something grab his foot.

He lowered his head.

I saw a legless person clinging tightly to his ankle.

"Let go! Let go!" he roared, pounding the top of the stone pillar with his fist.

Blood was flowing down from the top of the stone pillar.

But he doesn't let up.

They wouldn't let go, even if it meant death.

"Old Zhao—!" he roared, "Get him—!"

Old Zhao groped his way over.

He has no eyes.

But he has ears.

He heard the sounds of fighting, screams, and the roars of the stone pillars.

He touched the Japanese soldier.

I touched his leg.

I touched his waist.

Then--

He opened his mouth and bit the Japanese soldier's neck!

"ah--!!!"

The Japanese soldier screamed and struggled desperately.

But Lao Zhao wouldn't budge.

The teeth were deeply embedded in the flesh.

It ruptured a blood vessel.

Blood gushed out and poured into his mouth.

He doesn't care.

All he knows is how to bite.

They wouldn't let go.

Until that Japanese soldier gave in.

Until that Japanese soldier's blood runs dry.

He opened his mouth.

He lay on the ground, panting heavily.

His mouth was full of blood.

I don't know if it belongs to the Japanese or to me.

"Old Zhao... Old Zhao..." Shi Zhuzi climbed over and touched his face.

Old Zhao grinned.

A smile without eyes.

"Pillar……"

He said his voice was weak:

"We... killed another one..."

Hehe~

The stone pillar paused for a moment.

Then, he smiled too.

The two disabled people laughed and laughed, but then tears streamed down their faces.

The last Japanese soldier.

They were blocked in the corner by the anchor post.

The sixteen-year-old boy from Henan was clutching a brick in his hand.

The bricks were soaked in blood.

Dark red and slippery.

He stood in front of that Japanese soldier.

But now, it's the Japanese who are trembling.

My hands are shaking, my legs are shaking, my whole body is shaking.

He saw the anchor post.

"Don't...don't come any closer..." he shouted in Japanese, but Shuanzhu couldn't understand him.

But Shuanzhu could understand that expression.

That expression was saying: I'm scared.

Shuanzhu smiled.

A childlike, radiant smile.

"Just now……"

He spoke, his voice thick with a Henan accent:

"Aren't you guys pretty capable?"

"Weren't you the ones who were dominating us?"

"Didn't you want to stab me in the eye?"

He took a step forward.

The Japanese soldier took a step back.

Stand with your back against the wall.

There's no road.

The bolt lifted the brick.

"This time—"

他 说:

"It was smashed for my class monitor."

boom!

The brick hit the Japanese soldier in the face.

"This time—"

boom!

"It was smashed for my deputy squad leader."

"This time—"

boom!

"It was smashed for my Uncle Old Gun."

"This time—"

boom!

"It was smashed for my Uncle Shizhuzi."

"This time—"

boom!

"It was smashed for my Uncle Zhao."

boom!

"He smashed it for me."

The Japanese soldier could no longer stand and slid down the wall.

"And then there's this one—"

Shuanzhu lifted the brick, panting heavily:

"I smashed it on behalf of all Chinese people!"

boom! ! !

The last brick.

The Japanese soldier slid down completely.

The skull collapsed, and the brain matter splattered out.

It twitched twice.

It stopped moving.

At this moment, the two-story brick building was completely silent.

Old Gun leaned against the wall, panting heavily.

The sharpened wooden stick in his hand was still stuck in the Japanese soldier's stomach.

He didn't pull it out.

I didn't have the strength to pull it out.

Shi Zhuzi and Lao Zhao lay on the ground, leaning against each other.

The two people's blood were mixed together, making it impossible to tell whose was whose.

But they are still alive.

Shuanzhu squatted in the corner, covering his face and crying.

But as he cried, he started to laugh again.

She was both crying and laughing.

Like an idiot.

Like a child.

Li Dashan, carrying a knife, walked up to them.

Look at them one by one.

Look at the old gun.

Look at the stone pillars.

Look at Lao Zhao.

Examine the anchor post.

Finally, he looked at the gap.

A hideous, blood-stained, yet incredibly radiant smile.

"Brothers."

"Yes, all of them."

"Well done!!!"

Everyone looked up.

Then--

I don't know who laughed first.

It might be an old gun.

It might be a stone pillar.

It might be a tethered column.

The laughter was very soft.

Very weak.

Like a flickering candle in the wind.

But it slowly grew bigger.

It turned into a burst of laughter.

They were laughing.

crying.

Alive.

Protecting.