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

The first thing Su Yue did after landing was to turn on her seemingly ordinary tablet computer.

Fingers swipe rapidly across the screen.

"Full-band interference - activated."

"Drone communication link - established".

"Real-time Battlefield Map - Generated".

Three actions, five seconds.

Then, the Japanese soldiers on the battlefield suddenly discovered that the radio was filled with piercing noise.

It wasn't static; it was a kind of rhythmic, high-frequency scream that sent chills down your spine.

The order could not be transmitted.

The situation can no longer be reported.

Coordination between aircraft and ground forces was disrupted.

Even more frightening, four brand-new drones suddenly rose from the roof of the bank building.

Each one is only the size of a palm, but when they fly in formation, they resemble a deadly cloud of metal.

They rushed towards the Japanese mortar positions.

The drone aims at the gun barrel, accelerates, impacts, and detonates the high-energy explosives inside.

Boom boom boom boom—!!!

All four mortar positions fell silent simultaneously.

Bian Yun did not have any specific tasks.

Or rather, his task was to do everything.

When Lei Gang shot down the plane, he raised the third anti-aircraft missile and locked onto the western formation.

call out--!!!

The third missile was launched.

The lead aircraft in the western formation attempted to evade, but Su Yue evaded their radio communications, and the wingman could not receive instructions, nearly causing the two aircraft to collide.

The missile penetrated the engine compartment of the lead aircraft.

In the air, the third fireball exploded.

"The fourth one!" Lei Gang also reported the good news.

Bian Yun threw away the launcher and picked up the sniper rifle.

He pulled the bolt, aimed, and aimed at the Japanese infantrymen who had already rushed within thirty meters of him downstairs—

It wasn't hitting anyone.

It was a flag held by a Japanese sergeant.

That Rising Sun Flag is guiding the charge.

boom.

The flagpole broke, and the flag fell.

The rhythm of the Japanese charge was disrupted for a moment.

In that very instant—

"machine gun--!!!"

Bian Yun's roar echoed throughout the building.

He wasn't shouting at the defending troops.

He was shouting at the equipment pack that Lei Gang had brought.

Lei Gang laughed heartily and pulled a brand-new weapon from his equipment bag—not a Maxim, not a Type 92, but a QJY-201 general-purpose machine gun from 2025.

It has a 7.62 mm caliber, belt-fed ammunition, and a theoretical rate of fire of 800 rounds per minute.

More importantly, it is equipped with a thermal imaging sight.

Lei Gang doesn't need to look out the window.

All he had to do was look at the red, moving human-shaped silhouettes in the scope and pull the trigger.

Rat-a-tat ...

The gunfire was so intense it sounded like tearing cloth. Bullets pierced through brick walls and sandbags, striking precisely every Japanese soldier who tried to approach.

Fifty meters became a death line.

None of the Japanese soldiers who crossed this line were able to advance another step.

Lin Mo's sniper rifle began to "call roll".

It wasn't about attacking officers anymore—most of the officers were already dead.

He was shooting at a heavy machine gunner.

A Japanese company was equipped with three Type 92 heavy machine guns, which were the backbone of their positional offensive.

Through Lin Mo's scope, the first machine gunner was changing his ammunition belt.

The crosshairs pressed against the opponent's forehead beneath his helmet.

boom.

The machine gunner leaned back.

The assistant shooter took over, his hand just touching the trigger—

boom.

the second.

The third machine gunner learned his lesson and hid behind a sandbag.

But Lin Mo switched to high-explosive shells.

boom--! ! !

The bullet hit the sandbag and exploded. It wasn't an ordinary explosion; it was the explosion of a 12.7mm high-explosive round—the shockwave and shrapnel knocked the machine gunner and the machine gun behind him off their feet.

"Clear the machine gun positions on the west side." Lin Mo's voice was eerily calm.

The gun barrel turned eastward.

The tide of battle turned within five minutes.

It's not a gradual reversal, it's an instantaneous reversal.

In the sky, six bombers, four turned into fireballs, and two fled in panic—they didn't even have time to drop their bombs.

On the ground, the Japanese command system was paralyzed, heavy firepower points were eliminated one by one, and assault infantry were suppressed by a machine gun from the future, keeping them fifty meters away.

Inside the bank building, the soldiers who were ready to fight with bayonets were all stunned.

Zhao Dashan, holding his broadsword, stared blankly at the machine gun in Lei Gang's hand that "could aim itself."

Liu Xiao looked at Lin Mo, the "Cold-Faced Killer" who lay behind a pillar and whose every gunshot brought down a Japanese soldier.

Yao Qing looked at Su Yue—the girl was just staring at the tablet, tapping her finger lightly, and the "little flying insects" in the sky precisely destroyed the Japanese mortars.

There was also Bian Yun—he moved between the positions, sometimes raising anti-aircraft missiles, sometimes using an old-fashioned gun for precise shooting, and sometimes injecting the wounded with that "miracle drug".

"This...this is the new China?" a young soldier murmured.

Lu Bei walked to his side, patted him on the shoulder, his eyes red-rimmed:

"This is it."