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

"It's far from time to despair!"

Lei Gang let out a loud roar, which exploded like thunder in the sky above Liu Xing's position.

Those men in gray-blue uniforms, those gripping their guns, gritting their teeth, and preparing to die, all turned to look at him.

Lei Gang handed the portable rocket launcher to Gu Yunshan.

"Commander Gu, here you go. Do you know how to use it?"

Gu Yunshan took the rocket launcher; it was heavy, heavier than he had imagined.

He shook his head, then nodded: "You taught me once, I remember."

Lei Gang grinned: "Okay. Aim for the side of the tank, or the tracks. One shot is enough."

He turned around and called out, "Lin Mo! Lu Bei!"

Lin Mo stood up from the trench. He held the QBU-202 anti-materiel sniper rifle in his hand; the barrel was long and gleamed coldly in the morning light.

He walked up to Zhao Desheng—Zhao Desheng was lying in the trench, his left leg was injured and tied with a strip of cloth, and blood was still seeping out.

Lin Mo squatted down and placed the gun beside him.

"Brother," he said, his voice soft but every word clear, "use it to take down a few more Japanese devils."

Zhao Desheng was stunned. He stared at the gun, then at Lin Mo, his lips trembling.

He had fought in so many wars, handled Hanyang rifles, Zhongzheng rifles, and captured Type 38 rifles. But he had never touched a gun like this before—long and heavy, with a large and bright scope, and incomprehensible letters engraved on the barrel.

"What...what kind of gun is this?" His voice trembled.

Lin Mo looked at him: "QBU-202. If you lie here, you can shoot the Japanese on that hill over there. Shoot the commander, the machine gunners, the mortar crew."

"Take this and take down a few Japanese soldiers to practice."

He paused for a moment, then said, "No matter which Japanese soldier it is, one shot is enough."

Zhao Desheng's eyes lit up. He stretched out his rough, calloused hands and grasped the gun.

The gun was heavy, but he could carry it.

He set it up on the trench and put his eye on the scope.

In the crosshairs, Japanese troops were gathering in the distance, densely packed like ants.

His lips slowly parted into a smile.

"Good heavens..." he muttered, "I've never fired a gun this far in my entire life."

Lu Bei also came over. He handed his CS/LR4 sniper rifle to Guo Jinliang, a man from Northeast China standing next to him.

Guo Jinliang was a machine gunner in the Second Company, a burly man.

His machine gun was out of bullets, and he was gripping his bayonet, ready to charge.

He froze when he saw the gun Lu Bei handed him.

"Brother, for me?" His voice was hoarse.

Lu Bei nodded: "Yes, here you go, this is good stuff."

Guo Jinliang took the gun and ran his fingers over it. The touch was cool and smooth, like touching a piece of jade.

He raised the gun and aimed it at the distance.

In the crosshairs, a Japanese officer was brandishing his sword, yelling something. Guo Jinliang's finger was on the trigger, but he didn't pull it. He lowered his gun and looked at Lu Bei.

"Thanks, bro." He looked up at Lu Bei.

Lu Bei had already turned around, but still waved to him.

We are all Chinese soldiers, there's no need for thanks.

At this moment, Lei Gang, Lin Mo, and Lu Bei ran towards the rear of the position.

Their steps were quick and steady, like three arrows released from a bow. The men in gray-blue uniforms watched their backs, wondering what they were up to.

"What are Brother Lei and the others going to do?" Chen Xiaogou tugged at Gu Yunshan's sleeve.

Gu Yunshan shook his head: "I don't know. But it's definitely a good thing."

At this moment, Su Yue leaned half her body out of the Qilin Tank 104, and her voice rang out over Liu Xing's position.

"Before Bian Yun left, his orders to us were to hold our ground and await reinforcements," she said, enunciating each word clearly.

"Therefore, we haven't been willing to take out all the assets that the new China left behind."

She paused, then her voice suddenly rose: "But now, the Japanese 11th Division is desperate and there's no need to hide anything anymore."

She pointed to the rear of the position: "Now, everyone—look back!"

Everyone turned around at the same time.

In the morning light, amidst the smoke of battle, three tanks were approaching. Not one, but three. Not the Japanese army's tin cans, but Kirin tanks.

ZTZ-105, ZTZ-102, ZTZ-107.

The vehicle is low-slung with sleek lines, featuring composite armor and a 125mm smoothbore cannon. The long, thick barrel resembles three steel spears pointing skyward. The vehicle is painted with digital camouflage, the gray and green patches appearing and disappearing in the smoke, like three lurking beasts.

They came in a line from behind the position. Their tracks rolled over gravel, over shell craters, over the land—soaked in blood.

The engines roared, deep and powerful, like the panting of three giant beasts. The cannon barrels slowly rotated, pointing towards the surging black ocean.

The battlefield was deathly silent.

Those men in gray-blue military uniforms stared wide-eyed and gaped at the three tanks.

"Brigade Commander... Brigade Commander!" He tugged at Gu Yunshan's sleeve, "Three more are coming! Three! Our tanks!"

Zhao Desheng lay prone in the trench, his eyes still pressed against the scope. But he heard the sound of engines, turned around, and saw three tanks driving past him.

His mouth was open, and his eyes were wide open.

"Good heavens..." he muttered, "Three more...three...I thought there was only one..."

Guo Jinliang stood there, holding the CS/LR4 sniper rifle. He looked at the three tanks and smiled. Then, as he smiled, tears streamed down his face.

"Future generations..." he murmured, "just how many treasures have you hidden away..."

Gu Yunshan stood there, gripping the large, blunted sword. He looked at the three tanks, at the three long, thick cannon barrels, at those steel behemoths from the future.

"Brother Lei... Miss Su..." His voice was hoarse, "You...you..."

Lei Gang's voice rang out through the loudspeaker of the Qilin Tank 105:

"Commander Gu, you are not eight hundred men."

"You are eight hundred men, plus four tanks, plus your descendants."

"Let's fight the Japanese devils together!"