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

The Japanese army wasn't stupid.

Major General Yamamoto, commander of the 5th Brigade, saw all of this through binoculars from his rear observation post.

He saw the plane shot down by a "mysterious rocket".

They witnessed the wing command post being destroyed by "long-range sniping".

I saw the radio suddenly malfunction.

I saw those "little flying things" blow up the mortar.

"Baka... What is this?!" Yamamoto slammed down the binoculars.

The staff officer beside him said in a trembling voice, "General... could this be... a new Russian weapon? Or... secret American support?"

"Impossible!" Yamamoto roared. "The Russians are in the north, and the Americans are watching! This must be some kind of secret weapon from the Chinese!"

He stared at the top of the bank building.

That red flag is still flying.

"Give the order!" Yamamoto gritted his teeth, "Concentrate all artillery—field guns, mountain guns, mortars—and completely raze that building to the ground!!"

"But General... our men are still on the front lines..."

"Let me shatter into pieces!" Yamamoto's eyes were bloodshot. "To be loyal to the Emperor!!"

Twenty minutes later.

Behind Japanese lines, more than thirty artillery pieces—ranging from 75mm mountain guns to 150mm heavy guns—simultaneously adjusted their firing angles.

Target: Baoshan Bank Building.

The coordinate parameters were relayed level by level by messengers (because the radio was malfunctioning).

The gunner loads the gun and pulls the rope.

Yamamoto raised his sword, preparing to order a volley—

Just then.

The third floor of the bank building.

Lin Mo smiled, and his scope slowly moved.

He had noticed the observation post long ago—it was too obvious, with antennas everywhere and people coming and going frequently.

But he didn't hit it.

He is waiting.

Waiting for the right opportunity.

Now, the time has come.

He switched to the last special round—not an armor-piercing round, not a high-explosive round, but an incendiary round.

The crosshairs pressed down on the officer holding the saber.

"Farewell," Lin Mo whispered.

Pull the trigger.

boom--! ! !

The bullet traveled two kilometers.

It hit precisely the ammunition pile next to the observation post.

Major General Yamamoto heard only a sharp whistling sound, and then—

Rumble, rumble, rumble—!!!

The mountain of shells was ignited and detonated by incendiary bombs.

The observation post, along with the brigade commander, staff officer, and communications soldier inside, were all blown to bits.

The Japanese artillery bombardment plan was aborted.

The battlefield suddenly fell silent.

The Japanese troops retreated.

It wasn't an orderly retreat; it was a rout.

Without command, without air support, without artillery cover, and even their heavy machine guns were all destroyed—

This proud "steel army" fled in disarray and without looking back for the first time on the battlefield of Shanghai.

The area in front of the bank building, spanning fifty to three hundred meters, was littered with the corpses of Japanese soldiers.

Tank wreckage billowed black smoke, and airplane debris was scattered all over the ground.

The wind dispersed some of the smoke.

The sunlight finally shone through.

Inside the building.

A deathly silence.

Then, Zhao Dashan was the first to collapse to the ground.

The 42-year-old veteran, looking out the window at the hellish scene, watching the retreating, ochre-colored figures, suddenly—

"Haha...hahaha...hahahahahaha!!!"

He laughed loudly.

I laughed until tears streamed down my face, I laughed until I bent over, I laughed until I coughed, I laughed until I was pounding the ground.

Then came the second, the third...

All the surviving defenders laughed.

Yao Qing walked up to Bian Yun.

He looked at the young man who had returned from the future, and at the three warriors beside him who seemed to have descended from the heavens. He opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a single word.

Finally, he opened his arms and hugged Bian Yun tightly.

They hugged each other tightly, as if they wanted to pass on this embrace to every Chinese person 88 years from now.

"Thank you..." he whispered in Bian Yun's ear, his voice choked with emotion, "Thank you all... come..."

Bian Yun patted his back:

"We are the ones who should be saying thank you."

At this moment, Lei Gang carried the machine gun that had missed its target and walked to the window.

He looked at the Japanese corpses scattered on the ground and grinned.

"That was awesome! That was fucking awesome!"

Lin Mo put away his sniper rifle and began checking his ammunition. He was always so calm, as if he hadn't committed the massacre just now.

sunset.

On the roof of the bank building, the red flag fluttered in the evening breeze.

Downstairs, more than 700 soldiers began cleaning up the battlefield, treating the wounded, and distributing food.

The compressed biscuits that Lei Gang brought were broken into small pieces, and each person received one.

But this piece can last a day.

The communication relay station established by Su Yue has begun operation. Medical guidance for 2025 is being transmitted to every medic through earpieces.

Lin Mo established a sniper position on the high ground. His scope covered an area of ​​three kilometers in radius.

Bian Yun looked at the countdown in his mind.

The next return is in nine hours.

The next crossing will involve 8 people and 8 cubic meters.

He knew that from this day forward, Baoshan—

It's no longer a meat grinder.

It is a bridgehead.

It is the first solid anchor connecting 1937 and 2025.

Lu Bei walked up to him and handed him a cigarette—it was taken from the bodies of Japanese soldiers.

Bian Yun took it and lit it.

The two leaned against the dilapidated wall, watching the sunset.

"Next time you come," Lu Bei said, "bring more cigarettes. These Japanese cigarettes are weak."

Bian Yun smiled:

"Next time, bring Zhonghua cigarettes."

"Soft Zhonghua" (a type of Chinese liquor).

The two looked at each other and burst into laughter.

Laughter echoed across the ruins.

---

Third Crossing - First Battle Report

Results: 4 Japanese Type 96 attack aircraft shot down, 2 forced to retreat.

Japanese commanders killed: 1 brigade commander, 2 regimental commanders, 3 battalion commanders

Destroys heavy firepower: 12 Type 92 heavy machine guns, 4 mortar positions, and 1 artillery position (self-destruction).

Japanese casualties estimated: 600-800

Our troops injured: 23 (all have received medical guidance for 2025)

Live stream real-time data: Peak number of online viewers: 1452838415.

Next steps: Establish the "Baoshan Safety Zone," transfer the second batch of seriously injured personnel, and prepare for the fourth crossing (8 people/8 cubic meters).

"We bring not only victory, but also a declaration—from this day forward, every inch of the sky and every inch of the land on this planet will be protected by us."

—Lin Mo, Postwar Records