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

At the foot of Sheshan Mountain, the primeval secondary forest resembles a giant beast lying on the ground, its pitch-black mouth wide open, waiting to devour everything.

Eight hundred and twenty-seven people stood at the edge of the woods. No one spoke; only the rustling of the wind through the treetops sounded like a whisper, like a warning.

The army men were at the front. Lei Xiong was carrying a thick tree trunk, which he had just picked up from the roadside; it was thicker than his arm.

He carried the tree trunk on his shoulder, like he was carrying a cannon.

Jin Sheng held a machete, its blade gleaming coldly in the morning light.

Li Huai pushed up his glasses, holding a compass in his hand, muttering something under his breath—probably directions, wind speed, or perhaps calculating which route would result in the fewest deaths.

Wang Jin walked at the very back, entrenching tool in hand, vigilantly watching for any movement around him, like a silent bodyguard, ensuring that no booby trap could escape his notice.

Not just the army. Air Force personnel were also there. Lin Yun walked in the middle of the group, her gaze sweeping over the dense canopy of trees, over the dark corners, and over the places where snipers might be hiding.

Zhou Zhenhai of the Navy walked at the very front of the group, followed by seven Marines.

They didn't walk in a straight line; they walked in a zigzag pattern, sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right, sometimes fast, sometimes slow.

They held daggers in their hands, tips pointing down and blades outward, ready to fight at any moment.

As for the Rocket Force personnel, they were behind everyone else.

Just like Jiang Xingchen said.

The Rocket Force will either be the first to appear.

Either be the last one to appear.

Eight hundred and twenty-seven people walked into that darkness, into this place, into that primeval secondary forest where the sky, the road, and the enemy were nowhere to be seen.

But this competition was destined to be brutal. The first "death" occurred three minutes later.

The first "death" occurred three minutes later. An army scout stepped on a booby trap. It wasn't a real mine, but a simulation. White powder exploded, and he stood there, covered in white powder.

He crouched down, clutching his head, and yelled, "Fuck—!!!"

"I haven't even started... I died before I even started... I still want to... I still want to..."

The second "death" occurred five minutes later.

Sun Haisheng, a 26-year-old marine from Shandong, has been in the military for eight years.

He tried to flank the enemy, get to the front of the formation, and break through before everyone else.

He moved quickly, like a leopard.

He didn't step on any landmines, but he ran into a sniper.

A marking bullet flew out from the canopy of a large tree and hit him precisely in the chest, exploding in white powder.

He looked down at the white expanse, at the mark on his chest.

His mouth was open, as if he wanted to curse.

But he couldn't bring himself to yell, because he couldn't find where the sniper was.

He looked up at the big tree, at its dense canopy, at the layers upon layers of leaves.

He couldn't find him, couldn't see him, and didn't know where the person was hiding.

He collapsed, lying on the fallen leaves, filled with resentment, helplessness, and a sense of frustration at being defeated by someone he couldn't see.

"Brother," he said, "you're fucking ruthless."

He paused, staring at the empty canopy of trees, at the unseen figure, at the one who had shot him dead.

"Which unit are you in? What's your name?"

No one answered.

Because that person needs to remain hidden, because that person cannot be exposed, because that person is still waiting for the next target.

Sun Haisheng lay there, finally only managing to say, "Fine, I lost."

Then, the third "death" occurred in the eighth minute.

This is an army reconnaissance soldier named Ma Jun, from Gansu, 25 years old, who has been in the army for five years.

Ma Jun is the kind of person who fears nothing and no one. His temper is as hard as his fists. He doesn't submit to anyone and is afraid of no one.

He charged ahead of the group, just like his name, like a galloping steed.

Moreover, he didn't want to be the first to arrive in 1937; it was because he couldn't stand having people ahead of him.

He had to be at the forefront, he had to be the first, he had to be the one—the one whose back everyone was watching.

He held a dagger in his hand, the tip pointing forward and the blade outward, like a fang.

Ma Jun was very vigilant, and the scouts were always the first to enter the battlefield.

Those who weren't vigilant died long ago.

But when he reached a tree, Ma Jun sensed danger.

His intuition told him that it was dangerous here.

Upon sensing the danger, Ma Jun lunged to his right.

It was this lunge that caused the bullet that should have hit his head to hit his right shoulder instead.

On his shoulder, white powder exploded.

"Damn it—!!!" Ma Jun roared, his eyes sweeping over the tree canopies, over the shadows, over the places where people might be hiding.

He couldn't find him, couldn't see him, and didn't know where the person was hiding.

But anger did not make Ma Jun lose his mind.

He wanted to rush forward, to find that person, to stab him in the chest with a dagger.

But he couldn't do that.

Now the enemy is in the open while we are in the dark.

What he had to do was survive.

Ma Jun crawled forward through the dense grass, concealing his figure.

He felt he had hidden it very well.

But the unseen person, who couldn't see the sniper rifle, still fired.

A large cloud of white powder exploded on Ma Jun's back.

Moreover, the gunshot wound was to the heart.

Ma Jun was killed in action.

If this were a real war...

That sniper bullet was powerful enough to pierce his heart from behind.

On the grass, Ma Jun turned over, lay there, and looked up at the sky.

He knew he had lost.

No matter how fast he runs, he can't outrun a bullet.

After Ma Jun was eliminated, a person was hiding in the dense canopy of a large tree.

His name is Xu Yuanzhou. He is a sniper instructor in a special operations brigade of the Eastern Theater Command. He is 45 years old and has served in the military for 20 years.

He lay sprawled on a thick tree branch, his body blending seamlessly with the trunk, his camouflage uniform peeking through the leaves like a pile of withered leaves blown away by the wind.

He was supposed to be part of the group that went in 1937. He spent twenty years in the special operations brigade, training many excellent snipers.

His marksmanship is his pride.

He had not suffered any serious injuries or illnesses, and all his medical examinations were satisfactory.

But he did not register.

It wasn't because he wasn't qualified; it was because he wanted to reserve the spots for younger soldiers.

Now, he can lie here and act as the "enemy."

He would shoot down those elite soldiers who participated in the selection, one by one.

Now, he has a new goal.

This is Chu Tian, ​​an air force paratrooper reconnaissance soldier from Hubei Province, who is 27 years old.

Chu Tian is the kind of person who, if he doesn't speak, all is well, but when he does speak, he can shut you up.

He was short and thin, with sharp, piercing eyes that he would squint when looking at people, as if he were aiming at them or assessing their weaknesses.

This is a top soldier in a paratrooper reconnaissance company. He has jumped more than 300 times and won second place in the entire army in jungle survival training.

He was not afraid of heights, darkness, or death.

What he feared was losing.

He came to participate in the selection not to go to 1937 to kill Japanese soldiers, but to win. To prove that he was the best, to prove that the Air Force was second to none.

Of course, it would be even better if I could go back to 1937 to kill the Japanese.

In the secondary forest challenge, Chu Tian made a different choice than most other elite soldiers.

Chu attacked not from the front, nor from the flank, but from above.

He climbed a tree and then, like a monkey, swung from branch to branch, jumped from tree to tree, traversing high places.

His eyes swept across the ground, over the people running, and over the places where snipers might be hiding.

He didn't have a gun; he chose a paratrooper knife. He believed that using a gun was too easy, while using a knife showed real skill.

If he sees "enemy troops," he will jump down from the tree and slit their throats with a single blow.

But he couldn't find it. Because Xu Yuanzhou found him first.

Xu Yuanzhou's crosshairs pressed down on Chu Tian. The man leaped between branches like a monkey, his movements swift, light, and almost silent.

Xu Yuanzhou's lips curled up slightly.

This person is not bad.

But yes, they will die too.

His finger pulled the trigger. The marking bullet flew from the chamber and struck Chu Tian precisely in the chest.

Chu Tian was swinging from one branch to another. His hand was already outstretched, ready to grab the branch.

Then, he felt something hit his chest.

It didn't hurt, but it happened very suddenly.

He lost his balance, his hands slipped, and he fell from the tree.

He fell into the bushes, branches scratched his face, and dirt got into his collar.

Chu Tian was a little confused. He lay there, looking at the sky above him, which was cut into pieces by the leaves, and at the white powder that was still falling.

His hand touched his chest, touching the white patch, touching the mark.

His mouth was open, but he didn't curse or shout; he just stood there, stunned, like a bird that had fallen from the sky and had its wings shattered.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again and looked in the direction of 11 o'clock.

He knew that the sniper was hiding there.

But he couldn't give any signal because he was already "dead".

Chu Tian was silent for a moment, then said,

"Fine. You win."

He paused, then said:

"But I didn't lose to you, I lost to myself. I was too hasty."

He climbed out of the bushes, dusted himself off, wiped the blood from his face, and sat down.

"Brother," he began.

"I think I've already guessed who you are."

"You wait. After the selection is over, I'll challenge you to a one-on-one fight."

He raised his head and said, word by word:

"Xu Yuanzhou!!!"

………………

In another patch of dense grass, Lei Gang, Jin Sheng, Li Huai, Wang Jin, and others were squatting, their bodies almost blending into the grass.

Their gazes pierced through the bushes and vines, fixed on the tree—the tree where the sniper was hiding.

The tree had a dense canopy, with layers of branches and leaves, like a giant open umbrella, completely shading the person on the tree.

"Damn it, I knew it, there were definitely snipers here, fuck it." Jin Sheng spat and said viciously.

Explosives expert Wang Jin held the iron entrenching tool, its surface still covered in dirt and leaves.

He turned to look at Jin Sheng, his brows slightly furrowed, his voice low:

"Jin Sheng, you didn't see anyone just now, how can you be so sure there was a sniper?" His tone wasn't questioning, only curious. Because Jin Sheng's judgment was always very accurate.

Jin Sheng didn't answer immediately. He pointed the tip of his knife at the big tree, then drew a circle in the air, encompassing the entire terrain around the tree.

"Look," he began, his voice low.

"That tree has a canopy that's taller than the surrounding trees, offering the best view."

"If you lie down from that spot, you can see the road we came in through to the east, that open area to the west, Sheshan Mountain to the south, and to the north—" He paused, the tip of his knife pointing in the direction they had come from.

"You can see everyone who passes by in this area."

Li Huai pushed up his glasses and looked in the direction of Jin Sheng's knife.

A three-dimensional map quickly formed in his mind—the location of the tree, the surrounding terrain, and the sniper's field of vision.

His fingers tapped on his knees, as if he were calculating or drawing.

"And another thing," Jin Sheng continued, moving the tip of his knife toward the bushes and grass around the tree.

"The vegetation around that tree was very dense. Looking up from below, you couldn't see anyone in the canopy at all. But looking down from above, there were gaps between the branches and leaves, and you could see the ground."

"That sniper, as long as he lies still, even if people walk right under the tree, they might not be able to spot him."

Lei Xiong, standing to the side, agreed with Jin Sheng's words.

If he were that sniper, he would also choose that tree.

That tree is a perfect sniping position. It offers a wide field of view, excellent concealment, and is easy to defend and difficult to attack.

As long as he doesn't make a sound, stay still, or expose himself, he can lie here all day and snipe a lot of people.

"Since this place is easy to defend and difficult to attack," Li Huai said.

"How about we go around him? We can flank him from the side and avoid his line of fire."

His finger traced an arc on the ground, from their current position, around a sloping hill, and approached the tree from the other side.

That arc is very long; it adds at least 500 meters to the journey.

Jin Sheng shook his head

"No, that would be too much of a waste of time."

He pulled the tip of his knife from the ground and pointed it at the tree.

"Now, that sniper has 'killed' three people in a row. His position has been exposed. The reason he hasn't moved yet is probably because he knows someone is watching him."

He paused, then a slow smile spread across his face.

"His role has shifted from hunter to prey."

Lei Gang squatted down beside him, not saying a word. He still had the thick tree trunk on his shoulder, like he was carrying a cannon.

His eyes were fixed on the tree, on its dense canopy, and on the unseen person.

His lips twitched slightly.

Finally, we can get started.

"Jin Sheng," Lei Xiong began, his voice low and deep.

"How do you suggest we fight?"

Jin Sheng didn't answer. He just stared at the tree, at the layers of leaves, and at the sniper who was turning from hunter into prey.

His knife tip rose from the ground, drawing an arc in the air before pointing towards the roots of the tree.

"Take him down first!" Jin Sheng ordered.

"We'll wait for him down here."

He paused, then his grin widened. "One person against six."

"The advantage is in my hands!"