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

The battle ended within half an hour.

It's not the end, it's the clearing out.

Lin Mo's sniper rifle took out all the exposed observation posts and firing positions.

Lei Gang's rocket launchers and thermobaric weapons destroyed every fortification from the inside.

Su Yue's drone swarm relentlessly pursued every Japanese soldier who attempted to escape.

Lu Bei and Bian Yun used precise bursts of fire to eliminate the remaining enemies.

And Huang Xing and his 264th Brigade...

They stood on the Eight-Character Bridge, amidst the corpses of Japanese soldiers scattered on the ground, as if in a dream.

A soldier crouched down and touched a Japanese corpse—the corpse had a hole the size of a bowl in its chest, caused by a 12.7mm anti-materiel bullet.

"What...what kind of gun shot this..." he murmured.

Another soldier picked up a Japanese helmet—the helmet had a neat round hole in the center, running from front to back.

"This bullet...can it curve?"

Huang Xing walked up to Bian Yun, opened his mouth, and wanted to say thank you.

But he couldn't bring himself to say it.

Because "thank you" is too light.

He watched as the battlefield, which he had prepared to sacrifice three hundred lives for, was cleaned up by six people in half an hour.

This is not a battle.

This is a demonstration.

This demonstrates what "dimensional reduction attack" means.

"I believe in you, from the future, in that powerful new China," Huang Xing said, his eyes red-rimmed.

Bian Yun stepped forward and patted Huang Xing on the shoulder:

"Commander Huang, take your men and take over the position first."

"There should still be some remaining enemies inside, but not many. Be careful."

Huang Xing nodded emphatically, then turned and roared:

"Brigade 264——!!!"

"exist--!!!"

"Follow me—to take over the position—!!!"

This time, charging forward is no longer about dying.

It is to receive victory.

The soldiers rushed across the figure-eight bridge.

They succeeded in their fourth assault.

A young soldier suddenly knelt on the ground and burst into tears.

He wasn't crying because of victory.

Instead, it was a victory.

It turns out it can be done so easily.

The smoke of battle has not yet dissipated on the Eight-Character Bridge.

Bian Yun stood at the bridgehead, his gaze passing over the Japanese corpses scattered all over the ground, and landing on the gray-black building a kilometer away.

Japanese Navy Special Landing Forces Command.

Five stories high, square and upright, like a steel behemoth crouching in the heart of Hongkou.

The walls were a deep, cold gray with a cement sheen, and the windows were small, like the squinting eyes of a giant beast.

The rooftop is covered with antennas, as well as several concrete machine gun nests and observation posts.

What's most suffocating is its thickness.

Su Yue's drone has completed the initial scan, and the 3D model is displayed on the tablet.

She pointed to the data, her voice calm to the point of being cruel:

"Main structure: reinforced concrete. Exterior wall thickness: 0.8 to 1.2 meters, with key load-bearing parts exceeding 1.5 meters."

Floor slab thickness: 0.4 meters, reinforced with internal steel mesh.

"Underground section: at least two basement levels, presumably for an ammunition depot and command center, with a concrete roof over 2 meters thick."

She looked up at Bian Yun:

"With our current individual soldier equipment—including anti-tank rocket launchers and thermobaric grenades—we cannot effectively destroy the main structure. At most, we can penetrate the outer walls, but we cannot cause structural damage."

Lei Gang refused to believe in superstition.

The man from Northeast China spat and carried the last FN-6 anti-aircraft missile from his equipment bag—although it's called "anti-aircraft," it can also be used to fire directly at buildings.

"Let me give it a try!"

He knelt on one knee, carrying the launcher on his shoulder.

Target: The third floor of the building, a location that is clearly an observation window.

"800 meters away, wind speed level 2, target stationary..." Lei Gang muttered the firing parameters to himself as he pulled the trigger.

call out--!!!

The missile flew straight away, leaving a trail of white smoke.

hit.

The explosion was very loud, and flames erupted on the surface of the building.

After the smoke cleared—

A hole about half a meter in diameter appeared in the wall.

The depth... it seems they've broken through the outer wall, but there's still an inner wall inside.

At the edge of the hole, the exposed steel bars twisted and turned like mocking fangs.

A Japanese soldier peered out of the window next door, looked at the hole, and even waved his hand—not to surrender, but to provoke.

Just as he finished his provocation and was about to retreat,

Lin Mo shot him in the head.

But killing one Japanese soldier wouldn't significantly change the course of the war.

On the other side, Lei Gang's eyes widened: "Damn it... what the hell was this thing made?!"

Inside the building, on the third floor, is the command center.

Navy Lieutenant Commander Kosuke Suzuki looked through the bulletproof glass of the observation window at the small, smoking hole outside, a cold smile playing on his lips.

"That's all the Chinese are capable of."

He turned to the other officers in the command room—all mid- to high-ranking Marines, their faces pale—and said in a deliberately relaxed tone:

"Gentlemen, there is no need to panic."

"This building is a masterpiece of the Imperial Naval Engineering Department. It was designed to withstand direct fire from 203mm naval guns."

He walked to the wall and tapped the thick concrete surface with his finger:

"See that? It's a meter thick. There's also a double layer of steel mesh inside, with one layer every thirty centimeters."

"Those little Chinese toys..." He glanced out the window, "They're okay for taking down tanks. Trying to blow through this place?"

Suzuki laughed, his laughter echoing in the sealed command room:

"Let them fire. Even if they run out of ammo, at most they'll just be 'decorating' our walls."

A young lieutenant asked in a trembling voice, "But the lieutenant colonel... the defenders at Bazhiqiao... were wiped out in ten minutes. Those little flying things, and those long-range snipers..."

"Those are field fortifications!" Suzuki interrupted him. "Sandbags, brick walls, makeshift shelters—of course they can't hold up."

He walked to the huge map of Shanghai and pointed heavily at the location of the headquarters:

"But this is different. This is a permanent fortification. The Empire has been working on it for six years, and every inch of concrete, from the foundation to the roof, has been calculated."

"Didn't the Chinese army outside, the 88th Division, try it?" Suzuki looked around at everyone. "They bombarded it for three days with 160mm heavy artillery they bought from Germany, and what was the result?"

He pointed out the window—there were indeed several shallow craters on the front wall of the building, left by the shelling of the 88th Division.

"The largest pit was less than 20 centimeters deep. It didn't even penetrate half of the outer wall."

Suzuki sat down and picked up the now-cold tea:

"So, gentlemen, rest assured."

"This building is our most fortified stronghold in Shanghai. The Chinese want it? Sure—"

He took a sip of tea and spoke slowly and deliberately:

"Pile them up with corpses."