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

As those three Qilin tanks, which had always stood like Mount Tai guarding China's position, roared forward...

Every soldier in the 7th Company of the 3rd Battalion watched this scene intently.

Looking at the three dark gray cars in the distance.

Look at those—

A colossal creature is marching toward the enemy.

They felt something boiling inside them.

hot.

It's piping hot.

It surged upwards from the soles of my feet.

It surged to my chest.

It surged up to my throat.

It welled up in my eyes.

It surged to the top of my head.

That is blood.

It is the blood of Chinese soldiers.

It's the blood of "We're not cowards".

Chen Dashan, the one-eyed company commander, stood to one side.

He didn't look at the tanks.

He was looking after his soldiers.

Look at Tian Dazhuang.

Look at Liu Manzai.

Look at Zhang Shitou.

Look at each one—

Soldiers of the Seventh Company.

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

It was a proud smile.

I am proud of these soldiers.

For these—

The pride of a soldier who crawled out of a pile of dead bodies.

But there was a hint of worry in his eyes.

That worry was like a needle.

It's etched into my heart.

It can't be pulled out.

He walked to the embroiderer's side and gripped the large knife in his hand tightly.

"Comrade Embroiderer," he asked softly.

"Do we have enough ammunition?"

"Can we win this time?"

The embroiderer turned her head.

He looked at Chen Dashan.

Those eyes were very calm.

Like a lake without wind.

"able."

She only said one word.

Just one word.

But Chen Dashan suddenly felt—

I feel at ease now.

Like a stone, it fell to the ground.

Like a door, it's closed.

picture--

There's nothing to be afraid of anymore.

After saying this one word, the embroiderer looked at the six Japanese tanks that were heading towards the Chinese positions.

They are in a straight line, with each vehicle spaced fifty meters apart.

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly.

It was a very faint smile.

But there was something in that smile.

have--

It means "You're finished."

"Company Commander Chen," she said.

Chen Dashan came closer.

"Look at those Japanese tanks."

Chen Dashan looked at him, puzzled.

"They are arranged in a straight line with large gaps between them."

The embroiderer paused:

"They're trying to deplete our ammunition."

"One shell can only take down one vehicle."

Chen Dashan's pupils contracted slightly.

He got it.

These Japanese soldiers are risking their lives for ammunition.

Six tanks for six artillery shells.

Then, when the shells ran out—

The remaining tanks then swarmed forward.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Then... what should we do?"

The embroiderer turned her head and looked at him.

There was a very bright light in those eyes.

The light was like stars.

Like a torch.

"It's time to show off your real skills."

After saying this, the embroiderer turned around and jumped onto the Qilin 102 vehicle.

The movements were clean and efficient.

She got into the driver's seat.

Put on your helmet.

Fasten your seatbelt.

Fingers swipe rapidly across the control panel.

The screen lights up.

The data is displayed.

Then, she pressed the full-band communication button:

"Attention all."

"The tanks are here."

"Six vehicles, arranged in two straight lines."

"Three tanks, in a straight line."

The sound of the anvil soon rang out.

With a hint of bitterness:

"Embroiderer, how many armor-piercing shells do we have left?"

The embroiderer glanced at the screen.

Those red numbers.

"Not many," she said.

"But that's enough."

She paused.

Word by word:

"I plan to take out six Japanese tanks with two armor-piercing rounds."

These words were spoken.

Not only the anvil, but even the door-breaking man fell silent.

Two armor-piercing rounds.

Six tanks.

On average, one shot can destroy three vehicles.

How is that possible?

But the anvil did not voice its doubts.

Because he trusted the embroiderer.

If the embroiderer says there's a way, then there must be a way.

The person who broke down the door didn't ask any questions.

He simply took a deep breath.

Then, I gripped the joystick tightly.

Just then, the embroiderer's voice rang out again.

Five concise words.

"Angle is very important."