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

Fu Hao threw Shan Zhonggui's corpse on the ground with a "bang".

A dull thud.

A small cloud of dust rose up.

She spoke calmly:

"I dragged him here just to tell everyone—"

She paused.

Word by word:

"All crew members of the 1st and 2nd Platoons of the Independent Tank Regiment, 3rd Division of the Japanese Army—"

"Not a single one survived."

On the Chinese side, Zhang Shitou stood there, looking in the direction where the woman was standing.

His mouth slowly opened.

Say it softly:

"Company Commander..."

"She's really amazing..."

Chen Dashan nodded.

"yes."

He said.

Hoarseness.

But I am very determined:

"That's amazing."

The embroiderer jumped off the Qilin 102 tank.

The movements were clean and efficient.

She walked over to Fu Hao.

Her smile was radiant.

"Well done, Fu Hao."

she says.

The woman looked at the embroiderer, and a smile appeared on her usually aloof face:

"It's the embroiderer sister who's amazing."

she says:

"Two shells hit six Japanese tanks."

She paused:

"Moreover, they also eliminated a significant number of Japanese infantrymen in the process."

The embroiderer smiled.

Her eyes curved into crescent moons as she laughed.

"And eliminate it too."

She gently patted Fu Hao's shoulder:

"You think you're playing a matching game?"

As she spoke, the embroiderer's gaze turned to the battlefield.

Look at those—

Tanks that were once awe-inspiring are now just scrap metal.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"However, this time, the Japanese army's strategy was indeed flawed."

she says.

Calm voice:

"They are too greedy."

"They want to trade six tanks for our artillery shells."

"They're trying to use a dispersed formation to wear down our firepower."

"But they didn't expect—"

She paused:

"Our armor-piercing rounds can penetrate three targets at once."

"What they didn't expect was—"

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly:

"We will use counter-attacks to compress their formation."

"Moreover, they themselves are courting death by lining themselves up in a straight line."

Fu Hao nodded:

"So they lost."

After saying this, Fu Hao bent down slightly and grabbed the ankle of Shan Zhonggui's corpse.

then.

With a forceful flick.

The corpse traced an arc in the air.

Flying towards the burning battlefield behind them.

"Bang."

It fell into those still-burning flames.

The flames instantly engulfed Guiyi's corpse in the mountain.

This move completely ignited the fervor of the soldiers on the Chinese positions.

"good--!!!"

"Good throw—!!!"

"Let those damned Japanese devils never come back—even in death!!!"

Tian Dazhuang was the first to jump up.

He brandished that Hanyang rifle.

Shout at the top of your lungs:

"Did you see that?! Did you see that?!"

"We threw the Japanese officer's body back!"

Liu Manzai also shouted:

"Good riddance! Let them die in China and become fertilizer!"

The wind keeps blowing.

The wind swept across this scorched earth.

The wind blew over the corpses.

Blowing through those—

The flames are still burning.

Blowing through those—

People are cheering.

It sounds like singing.

It sounded like cheering.

Like in—

What are we welcoming?

Just then.

Footsteps could be heard coming from behind the Chinese positions.

It wasn't just one person's footsteps.

It's a group of people.

It's that kind of—

The sound of footsteps supporting, dragging, and carrying.

Everyone turned their heads.

Look in that direction.

then.

Everyone was stunned.

That was an army.

In reality, it was an army, but it was a remnant army.

It was an army so badly damaged it couldn't be any worse.

But they are walking.

They're walking this way.

Step by step.

very slow.

But I'm very determined.

That is--

Soldiers of the 9th Platoon, 7th Company, 3rd Battalion.

The leader was Li Dajiang.

His left rib was still wrapped in bandages.

Half of her body was stained red.

But he walked in a straight line.

His back was ramrod straight.

Like a tree that has been charred but still stands tall.

Behind him was Old Gun.

Old Gun's arm was in a sling.

But he didn't ask anyone to help him up.

Go by yourself.

Step by step.

Every step was taken very steadily.

Beside Old Gun was Old Zhao, who was blind.

Old Zhao was carrying a stone pillar on his back.

The stone pillar had no legs and was perched on Old Zhao's back.

Two hands were placed on Lao Zhao's shoulders.

Old Zhao can't see, but he walks very steadily.

Every step was taken in the direction indicated by the stone pillars.

The stone pillar was perched on Old Zhao's back.

His legs were gone, but his eyes were still very bright.

He looked ahead.

Looking at those—

The people watching them.

Behind Lao Zhao was Shuanzhu.

That sixteen-year-old boy from Henan.

He was as thin as a stick.

It can be blown over by a gust of wind.

But he walked in a straight line.

His back was ramrod straight.

Next to Shuanzhu was Lao Zhou.

Old Zhou has no arms.

The two sleeves were empty and hanging there.

Swaying slightly in the wind.

But he walked very steadily.

Step by step.

Every step was taken firmly.

Behind Lao Zhou were several lightly wounded soldiers.

They carried the stretcher.

On the stretcher lay Xiao Hubei and Yao Lin, along with some other seriously injured people.

Little Hubei's face was still very pale.

But his eyes were open.

Looking at the sky.

Looking at that area—

He could barely see the sky.

Yao Lin also opened his eyes.

Looking at those—

The people watching them.

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

A very faint smile.

The entire Chinese front suddenly fell silent.

Only the sound of the wind.

Only those—

The sound of approaching footsteps.

Everyone was watching them.

Looking at this one—

A team that crawled out of hell.

Looking at these—

A person covered in wounds.

Looking at these—

The person who risked his life to protect that small building.

Tian Dazhuang slowly lowered his hand.

The gun hung limply beside him.

His mouth was open.

What do you want to say?

But he couldn't say anything.

Just watching.

Liu Manzai stood there.

Tears streamed down my face again.

But this time

Yes--

Tears of reunion.

Zhang Shitou stood there.

The hand holding the gun slowly lowered.

He looked at Old Zhou's two empty sleeves.

Looking at the two empty trouser legs of the stone pillar.

Looking at Xiao Hubei's pale face.

My eyes suddenly welled up with tears.

Meanwhile, on Class 9's side, Old Zhao lay on the back of a stone pillar, raising his dark eyes to look ahead.

He can't see.

But he could sense it.

I felt those—

A burning gaze.

Li Dajiang walked without stopping and stood in front of Chen Dashan.

Stand still.

Stand still.

Behind him, the soldiers of the Ninth Platoon stood ready.

Old Gun was standing to his left.

Old Zhao, carrying a stone pillar on his back, stood to his right.

Shuanzhu stood next to Lao Zhao.

Old Zhou stood next to the anchor post.

The few lightly wounded soldiers stood at the back, carrying stretchers.

Thirteen people.

Thirteen figures.

Thirteen seats—

A mountain that grew out of the ruins.

Li Dajiang's gaze fell on Chen Dashan.

Hoarseness.

But every word is like a nail.

It crashed to the ground.

It struck a chord in everyone's heart:

"All thirteen soldiers of Platoon Nine—"

He paused.

Word by word:

"Return to the team!"

P.S. Thank you to Yamanbagiri Kunihiro from the Special Economic Zone for the extra update and to Xiaoxiao Suyu for the update reminder. Thank you both!

No more words, extra chapter tomorrow! ദ്ദിᵔ.˛.ᵔ₎✧