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

"Kill the Japanese devils—!!!"

A voice rang out.

"Kill the Japanese devils—!!!"

The second voice, choked with sobs, came out before the tears even fell.

He was a young soldier, eighteen years old, with downy hair still clinging to his lips. He cried, missing his mother, his home, and the brothers who had died before him. But what he shouted was to kill the Japanese devils.

"Kill the Japanese devils—!!!"

The third, the tenth, the hundredth, the eight hundredth.

Those sounds came from every corner of the trenches, from the shell craters, from behind the sandbags.

On Liu Xing's position, four Qilin tanks stood in a row, their cannons raised, pointing towards the surging black sea.

Smoke billowed around them, morning light flowed over them, and the cold gleam of steel intertwined with the heat of flames, like four mythical beasts that had stepped out of mythology.

At this moment, the cannon barrel was slowly rotating, emitting a deep mechanical sound, like a dragon awakening and roaring.

Gu Yunshan stood there, looking at the four tanks. His eyes were moist, something was welling up in them, but he didn't let the tears fall.

He gritted his teeth; he had considered his fate. Countless nights, in the lulls between battles, in the instants when shells fell, he thought about it.

He imagined himself falling in the trench, shot in the chest, still clutching a gun.

He imagined himself rushing out of the trench, pulling the pin on the last grenade, and dying together with the Japanese soldiers.

I imagined myself like those brothers who died, buried in this scorched earth without even leaving a name.

But he never imagined he would survive.

But now, he can survive. More importantly, his soldiers can survive.

He took a deep breath and roared at the four Qilin tanks.

"The soldiers of later generations."

"You guys always manage to come up with something new."

Lei Gang laughed when he heard this.

He sat inside the turret of the Qilin Tank 105, with half of his body sticking out.

"Commander Gu, this is nothing! We've got plenty of new tricks up our sleeve."

His voice was like thunder.

"Next, we'll have airplanes, missiles, aircraft carriers—whatever you want, we'll have it."

At this moment, Su Yue's voice rang out from the loudspeaker.

"Attention, all units. The Japanese 11th Division is charging. Four Kirin tanks, prepare to fire. Armor-piercing rounds, prioritize tanks. High-explosive rounds, engage infantry groups. Thermobaric rounds—wait until they get a little closer."

She paused, her voice gaining a touch of warmth, like a breeze suddenly bringing a sense of comfort.

"Brothers of the 021st Brigade, your mission is—hold the trenches and don't let a single Japanese soldier get in. Tanks will clear the way for you, snipers will provide cover. You only need to do one thing—"

She spoke each word clearly.

"Live. Live, wait for the counterattack. Live—to see the new China."

…………

11th Division, Division Headquarters.

Yamamuro Munetake set up his command post in a location far from the battlefield.

He held a pair of binoculars in his hand, the lenses gleaming with a bluish light in the morning glow. His triangular eyes were narrowed to slits.

Katamura Jiro stepped forward and stood behind him. After hesitating for a long time, he finally spoke.

"Those despicable, cunning Chinese! They had four such powerful tanks, but at first, they only brought out one. That was to make us lower our guard."

His voice was filled with hatred, resentment, and a sense of being played.

Yamamuro Munetake turned around and glanced at Katamura Shiro.

"Is it even useful to say all this now?"

Katamura Shiro's mouth was open, as if he wanted to say something, but he couldn't utter a word.

Yamamuro Munetake turned his head and raised the binoculars again.

"Now, the 11th Division has been fully mobilized. In this battle, either all the warriors of the Empire will perish, or we will slaughter all the Chinese and capture Liuxing."

With that, Yamamuro Munetake put down his binoculars, turned around, and looked at Katamura Shiro.

"Katamura-kun, I have a feeling. Ultimate victory will surely belong to us..."