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

The top of Sheshan Cliff.

Yao Shoude lay prone behind a rock, the barrel of his machine gun already burning hot from firing.

But he didn't stop.

He saw the figures climbing below—

Lei Xiong held the stone, Jin Sheng supported the stone's legs, Li Huai pushed the stone's back, and Wang Jin and Tan Ming supported it from behind with their bodies.

Five people, one "corpse," like a mobile fortress.

up.

Go up again.

Yao Shoude's eyes welled up with tears.

But he didn't let the tears fall.

He laughed loudly, looking up at the sky:

"Good lad—!!!"

"Good lads—!!!"

"here you go--!!!"

The hearty laughter echoed through the valley.

He pressed the communication button and roared at all the guards:

"Brothers—!!!"

"Don't let the soldiers below down—!!!"

"Give it a good beating—!!!"

The communication channel erupted in chaos.

"Alright, Company Commander!"

A rough voice rang out; it belonged to the veteran of the garrison, surnamed Ma, nicknamed "Ma the Cannon." He was a heavy machine gunner, had served for twelve years, and had fired enough bullets to fill a train car.

"I absolutely will not go easy on you!"

"Let them see what a real sniper is!"

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat—! ! !

His machine gun fire was even more intense than Yao Shoude's.

Another voice rang out, high-pitched and with a southern accent.

"Company Commander Yao, just you wait and see!"

He was a sniper from the garrison, surnamed Zhou, named Zhou Xiaoqi. He was seconded from the reconnaissance company; he was the youngest, but his marksmanship was the best. Half of the bullets that hit the rock earlier were fired by him.

"If I, Zhou Xiaoqi, fire a single blank shot today, I'll jump off this cliff!"

boom--! ! !

A marking bullet hit a soldier who was climbing, but it did not hit a vital organ.

The soldier groaned, but didn't stop.

Zhou Xiaoqi smiled:

"That's interesting!"

Keep aiming.

There was another voice, deep and with a Northeastern accent.

"Company commander, just you wait and see!"

He was a demolition expert in the garrison, surnamed Liu, nicknamed "Big-Headed Liu"—because his head was exceptionally large. He was in charge of a light machine gun, positioned at the very front.

"If they manage to climb up here so easily today, I, Liu Da Nao, will twist my head off and use it as a football!"

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat—! ! !

His machine gun fire was like thunder.

The defenders have all gone mad.

He's not crazy, he's just randomly hitting people.

It's madness—

We will absolutely not release water.

We will not let anyone come up here easily.

We must never let our soldiers win too easily.

Because they know—

The real battlefield is a million times more brutal than this.

Releasing the water now would be irresponsible towards them.

Releasing water now is a desecration of 1937.

Therefore, we must fight.

We must strike hard.

Make them remember this—

Going to 1937 isn't that easy.

Under the cliff.

Zhou Zhenhai was leading his Marine Corps squad, desperately climbing upwards.

They were at the forefront.

Not because it's the fastest.

It's because it's the craziest.

Zhou Zhenhai's eyes only saw upwards.

Only that direction leads to 1937.

Only those Japanese Third Fleet soldiers wearing khaki uniforms—

Although he hadn't seen him yet, he had already mentally killed him a thousand times.

A marking round hit the rock wall next to him, scattering white powder.

He didn't hide.

Keep climbing.

Another shot hit him just above the head, less than ten centimeters away.

They still didn't dodge.

Keep climbing.

"team leader!"

The voice of a teammate came from behind; it was the vice-captain, He Jin. He was from Guangdong, speaking with a heavy Cantonese accent, but at that moment he didn't care about enunciating clearly.

"Captain! The bullets are too dense! If this continues, we'll be hit sooner or later!"

Zhou Zhenhai did not turn around.

He just silently went up.

He Jin got anxious:

"Captain! We have to go in carrying the 'corpses' like Lei Xiong and the others!"

"Otherwise, we simply wouldn't be able to get up there!"

Zhou Zhenhai paused for a moment.

He looked down at his hands.

He turned back and looked at his teammates behind him.

They are the best of the Marines.

He was someone who, like him, dreamed of going to 1937.

He knew them.

He Jin, the deputy captain, comes from a family with three generations of naval service. His grandfather served in the East China Sea Fleet, his father in the South China Sea Fleet, and he himself is a Marine. He once said, "In my life, all I want to do is go and see the Battle of Jiangyin in place of my grandfather."

Little Shandong, a machine gunner, whose real name is Lu Dazhuang. His family are fishermen; his great-grandfather was also a fisherman. He said, "I don't have much to say, I just want to go to 1937 and demand an explanation from the Japanese Third Fleet."

Glasses, a technician, usually the quietest, but with the sharpest mind. He was a computer expert who could have stayed behind, but he insisted on coming. He said, "I want to see what those people who block machine guns with their own flesh and blood really look like."

Zhou Zhenhai looked at them, his eyes welling up with tears.

He thought to himself:

If someone has to carry a "corpse" to clear the way...

Then let me do it.

Let me be that "corpse".

Let my brothers step on me to get to the top.

Let them do it for me—

Go settle accounts with the Japanese Third Fleet...