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

Dusk had completely fallen.

In front of the Baoshan Bank building, the soldiers began to clean up the battlefield.

But Bian Yun knew that the battle here had come to an end.

He gathered the core members—Lu Bei, Lin Mo, Lei Gang, Su Yue, Yao Qing, and Liu Xiao—and sat them down under the red flag.

The red flag fluttered in the evening breeze.

"The Japanese forces here have been mostly wiped out," Bian Yun said, looking at the map. "Even if there's a counterattack, it'll be sporadic. We have some equipment left behind, and Su Yue has established a communications relay—we can hold out."

He paused:

"But the Battle of Shanghai was not limited to just one Baoshan."

Yao Qing's finger moved across the map, stopping at Hongkou District:

"Here. The headquarters of the Japanese Navy's Special Landing Force. A reinforced concrete building, five stories high, with walls one meter thick. Like a nail, wedged into Hongkou."

"The 88th Division launched the main attack here, and after two days of fighting, suffered heavy casualties."

He tapped the mark with his finger:

"If we can remove this thorn... the Japanese troops in the entire Hongkou District will be on edge."

Liu Xiao added: "I have a friend named Huang Xing in the 264th Brigade of the 88th Division, who is the brigade commander. I contacted him yesterday through the last telephone line—he said he is preparing for the fourth assault and will personally lead the team."

He personally led the team.

Everyone understands what those four words meant on the Shanghai battlefield in 1937.

Bian Yun stood up:

"Let's not delay, shall we set off now?"

"Target: Japanese Army and Navy Headquarters Building, Hongkou District."

Before setting off, in front of the bank building, all the soldiers who could still stand lined up.

They looked at Bian Yun and his group of five—no, six people, as Lu Bei had also joined the action team.

Zhao Dashan stepped forward and shoved a large knife into Lei Gang's hand: "Brother from Northeast China, this knife has helped me kill seven Japanese devils. Now, it's yours."

Lei Gang took it and weighed it in his hand: "Thanks, brother. I'll return it to you when I get back—I'll add a few more Japanese soldiers' blood to the blade."

Shuanzhu ran up to Bian Yun and handed him a cloth bag: "Brother Bian... this is a talisman my mother gave me... wear it."

Bian Yun took it. Inside the cloth bag was a small copper coin, strung on a red string.

He knelt down and put it on Shuanzhu: "Keep it. You need it more."

"But……"

"No buts." Bian Yun patted his shoulder. "When you grow up, come find me in 2025. I'll take you to eat Peking duck, visit the Forbidden City, and ride the high-speed rail."

Shuanzhu nodded vigorously, tears welling up in his eyes again.

Yao Qing walked to the front of the line.

He raised his right hand.

brush--!

More than 700 people saluted in unison.

Bian Yun and his six companions returned the gifts.

Then he turned and disappeared into the twilight.

…………

Hongkou District, Baziqiao.

This is just a small bridge less than ten meters long.

On the other side of the bridge, the Japanese Marines built three circular fortifications, each equipped with two Type 92 heavy machine guns, providing crossfire that covered the entire bridge surface.

On this side of the bridge, in front of the 264th Brigade's position, lay the corpses left behind by three waves of attacks.

Now, Brigade Commander Huang Xing is preparing to lead the fourth wave.

He stood in the trench, looking at the soldiers who could still stand up.

There are fewer than three hundred people left.

One brigade was reduced to less than three hundred men.

"Brothers," Huang Xing began, his voice hoarse like a broken bellows, "our 264th Brigade has been ordered to take over the Naval Headquarters."

"It's been two days, and we still haven't even crossed the Eight-Character Bridge."

He paused, then pointed to the other side of the bridge:

"But an order is an order."

"If we can't take it, our 264th Brigade will die here."

No one speaks.

Only the sound of the wind and sporadic gunfire from the Japanese army in the distance could be heard.

"Fourth wave." Huang Xing drew his sidearm. "I'll lead the team."

"Those who have only one son, step forward."

No one moved.

"Those with elderly parents to support, step forward."

No one moved.

"Those with wives and children waiting, step forward."

Still, no one moved.

Huang Xing laughed, but his laughter was more like a grimace:

"Good...you're all great."

"Then let's..."

He took a deep breath and roared with all his might:

"Brigade 264——!!!"

"exist--!!!"

"Charge with me!!!"

They rushed out of the trenches.

Without artillery cover—the cannons had long been used up.

Without machine gun suppression—the machine gunners all died in the first three waves.

Only people.

With a bayonet fixed to his gun and the last grenade tucked into his waistband, he roared as he charged toward the bridge.

Huang Xingchong was at the very front.

He had only one thought in his mind: rush forward, rush forward, even if it means paving a path with corpses.

Thirty meters.

Twenty meters.

Ten meters —

Huang Xing was shot in the left arm, and blood spurted out. He didn't stop and continued to flush.

He could almost see the ferocious faces of the Japanese machine gunners in the opposite fortifications.

Just as he was about to throw the grenade—

He heard it.

A strange whistling sound.

It's not a bullet, it's not a cannonball.

It was some kind of... sharper, angrier voice.

It came from the sky.

Huang Xing subconsciously looked up.

He saw several small black dots flying rapidly from the direction of the setting sun.

It was moving too fast, so fast that I couldn't even see what it was.

Then--

Boom boom boom boom boom boom—!!!

The continuous explosions occurred not on the ground, but inside Japanese fortifications.

The first circular fortification was blown open from the inside. Various fragments and Japanese corpses flew into the sky.

The second fortification was the same.

The third one...

The explosion was not a typical explosive explosion. It was caused by a thermobaric effect.

The first explosion consumed oxygen, and the second explosion generated a high-temperature shock wave.

Before the Japanese soldiers in the fortifications could understand what was happening, they felt difficulty breathing and were then engulfed by a blast of air at a temperature of 2,000 degrees Celsius.

The machine gun went silent.

Huang Xing was stunned.

The soldiers behind him were also stunned.

What happened?

Before they could even react—

Further away, on the rooftop of the Japanese naval headquarters building, at that high vantage point, the observation post also suddenly exploded.

"Brigadier...look..."

A soldier pointed tremblingly to the sky.

Huang Xing looked up.

He saw it.

Four "small planes"—not airplanes, but some kind of hovering, four-rotor thing—are swooping down from high altitude.

Each "little airplane" has a dark green cylinder hanging underneath it.

They flew over the routed Japanese infantry and unloaded their mounts.

The cylinder falls.

This was no ordinary explosion.

It's a fuel-air explosive.

The shockwave from the explosion sent all Japanese soldiers within a 50-meter radius flying.

Even more terrifying were the aftereffects of the explosion—the high temperature and lack of oxygen caused the Japanese soldiers who weren't killed to scratch their throats in agony and suffocate to death.

Huang Xing turned his head.

He saw six people emerge from the ruins on the west side of the Eight-Character Bridge.

Six men, dressed in the same gray cloth uniforms as his soldiers, but with completely different equipment.

The young man at the head of the group had a strange pipe slung over his shoulder.

White smoke billowed from the end of the tube, and a rocket, trailing a plume of flame, flew out and accurately hit a Japanese armored vehicle that was trying to reverse.

The armored vehicle exploded into a fireball.

The second person—a tall, burly man from Northeast China—was carrying a machine gun he had never seen before.

The machine gun had an incredibly high rate of fire, the muzzle flashes forming a continuous line. He laughed loudly as he fired, "Damn it! Try this!"

The third man lay prone behind a pile of rubble, holding an oddly shaped gun. With each soft "thud," a Japanese officer fell in the distance.

The fourth person was a woman, holding a tablet computer. She simply looked at the screen and tapped her finger, causing the "little planes" in the sky to change formation and begin chasing down the fleeing Japanese soldiers.

Huang Xing recognized the fifth person—Lu Bei, a member of Yao Qingying's group. He had heard of him; he was very capable.

The sixth person...

Huang Xing's pupils contracted.

The sixth person walked up to him.

"Commander Huang," the man said, "my name is Bian Yun. We come from Baoshan."

Bian Yun glanced at Huang Xing's bleeding left arm and took out a syringe from his waist:

"This is antibiotics. With this injection, the wound won't get infected."

Without saying a word, he injected Huang Xing.

The cold liquid enters the bloodstream.

Huang Xing stared blankly at the young man in front of him, then at the five people behind him, then at the "small plane" still circling in the sky, then at the burning naval headquarters building in the distance, and then at the Eight-Character Bridge—those Japanese soldiers who should have died were now truly dead.

"You..." Huang Xing's voice trembled, "Which part... are you from?"

Bian Yun put away the syringe and looked at the still-burning building:

"The part about the new China."

He paused, then added:

"The New China in 2025."