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

"...Go. Be loyal to the Emperor." Naojiro Tenma spoke softly, then his voice suddenly rose:

"Charge! Charge! This is an order!" (This is an order!)

"Black Card Chaos—!!!"

The remaining three thousand-plus Japanese soldiers of the 10th Brigade picked up their bayonets, took steps, and surged toward Liu Xing's position.

Captain Masao Yamada stood at the front of the column, sword in hand, mouth agape, shouting the loudest, "Hellblade Black Card—!!!"

His face turned bright red, veins bulged, and his eyes widened like copper bells.

But he didn't rush to the front.

He stood still, holding up his military knife, and shouted.

After he finished shouting, he watched the soldiers run past him.

One, two, ten, a hundred.

"Captain Yamada! Charge!" shouted the messenger beside him, his voice filled with anxiety and confusion.

Masao Yamada nodded and started walking.

But as he ran, his pace slowed down, and he fell from the front of the group to the middle, and then from the middle to the back.

He was still holding his military knife, his mouth was still open, and he was still shouting "Tian Nao Hei Ka".

He didn't want to be at the very front, because the person at the very front dies the fastest.

He didn't want to be at the very back, because the last person would be seen as a deserter.

He ran in the middle to the back of the group, where it was the safest place.

If a barrage of fire comes, hit the ones in front first. If artillery shells come crashing down, bomb the ones in front first.

Even if he retreats, those behind him can take bullets for him.

He fought for more than a decade, traveling from Manchuria to North China, and from North China to Shanghai.

He's survived this long not because of courage, but because of his intelligence.

Behind Captain Yamada was Lieutenant Colonel Masao Tanaka.

He didn't even run; he just stood in a crater, holding up his binoculars.

He was calculating—how many more people had to die before he could take down Liu Xing.

How many more people have to die before Naojiro Tenma will order a retreat?

How many more people have to die before he can go back alive?

"Lieutenant Colonel, shouldn't we move forward a bit?" the Japanese soldier next to him asked in a low voice.

Masao Tanaka put down his binoculars and glanced at him.

"Forward? Are we just going to our deaths?"

"The Chinese have that new type of weapon; one shot can kill dozens of people."

"Going forward is a foolish move."

He raised the binoculars again:

"Let them charge. We're here to direct."

He paused for a moment before continuing:

Didn't you see that Major General Naokijiro was staying further back?

The Japanese soldier froze, then turned to look behind him.

Sure enough, Naoki Naojiro stood further back, in a safer place, and even his saber wasn't held as high as before.

The Japanese soldier's lips twitched, then he forced a smile and flattered, "Lieutenant Colonel, you are wise! Lieutenant Colonel, you are wise!"

On Liu Xing's position, Lei Gang lay prone in the trench, holding up his binoculars. He spat, and the spit landed on the soil, raising a small cloud of dust.

"Who gave these Japanese devils the courage to keep charging?"

He lowered his binoculars, his voice booming like thunder, like a cannon blast, as if it would shake the very sky.

"Su Yue, is there any way to give these Japanese devils a good beating?"

Su Yue sat in the turret of the Qilin tank, her eyes pressed against the sights.

Within the crosshairs, a yellowish-brown wave was surging in, more than three thousand Japanese soldiers, a dark mass, like locusts passing through.

Her finger rested on the fire button, but she didn't press it. Because armor-piercing rounds weren't powerful enough. Armor-piercing rounds could only fire in a straight line, only penetrate a cluster, and only kill enemies in a single line.

What she's targeting isn't just one line, but an entire area.

She wanted to clear out the Japanese soldiers from an area.

Su Yue's lips curled up slightly, very lightly, but the curve was filled with murderous intent.

It was that kind of murderous intent—"I want you all to die."

"In this situation," she began, her voice as calm as a winter lake, as still as a deep pool, as sharp as the glint of a blade, "it's the perfect time to fire a shot—"

She paused, then said, word by word: "High-explosive bomb."

Lei Gang froze, his mouth agape, shouting:

"High-explosive bombs at high altitudes? That requires precise altitude calculations, and..."

His voice was filled with surprise, confusion, and a hint of excitement.

Su Yue interrupted him: "I'll calculate it."

Her voice was calm. As calm as if she were saying, "I'll solve this problem."

"Now, high-explosive bomb, one shot. Set the fuse to airburst mode."

Her fingers danced across the fire control computer as she input parameters: Target distance, 1,500 meters. Target area width, 50 meters. Airburst height, 30 meters.

Her movements were quick, as fast as the wind.

Her eyes were fixed on the surging waves. The ochre-colored figures grew closer, denser, and more concentrated. Her fingers rested on the launch button.

"Lei Gang," Su Yue began.

"Um?"

"Let the brothers cover their ears."

Lei Gang paused for a moment, then immediately turned around and roared:

"Brothers—!!!"

Cover your ears—!!!

Those lying in the trenches all covered their ears.

Chen Xiaogou covered it, Liu Laosi covered it, Zhao Desheng covered it, Wang Dahe covered it, and Gu Yunshan covered it too.

They didn't know what was going to happen, but they knew that people from future generations would set off fireworks for them.

Su Yue pressed the launch button.

"Thump—!!!"

The roar of a 125mm smoothbore gun is not a "boom," but a "thud."

A huge ball of flame spewed from the cannon, illuminating the entire position, the men in their grey-blue uniforms, and the Japanese soldiers who were charging forward.

A dark green projectile was fired from the cannon barrel, shooting into the sky at an almost vertical angle.

It flew higher and higher, drawing an almost invisible trail in the blue sky.

Then—it began to fall. Turning around, head down, tail up, like a true shooting star, carrying destruction and death, it plummeted towards the yellowish-brown waves…