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

When Bian Yun arrived at the observation room, the noise outside had not yet subsided.

General Wang Kangmei stood there, looking at the scene outside the glass wall, his back to the door, his shoulders trembling slightly.

"General Wang," Bian Yun said softly.

Wang Kangmei turned around.

The old man's eyes were red-rimmed, and there were still tear stains on his face.

But he smiled, a smile that held a sense of relief and profound satisfaction.

"Welcome home." Wang Kangmei stepped forward and grasped Bian Yun's hand tightly. "You've worked hard."

Bian Yun stood at attention and saluted: "Reporting to the commander, the mission to guard Wusongkou has been completed. Please give further instructions."

"Okay...okay..." Wang Kangmei said "okay" twice, then took a deep breath, "You go and rest first. This time you traveled through time and it took a lot of energy, you need to recover."

"But what about Luodian—"

"The country is ready in Luodian," Wang Kangmei interrupted him, a cold glint in her eyes.

"This time, the 'surprise' we've prepared for the Japanese devils will be huge."

Bian Yun wanted to ask more questions, but Wang Kangmei patted him on the shoulder:

"Go take a nap first. When you wake up, I'll take you to see it."

Bian Yun slept for a full six hours.

When I woke up, it was already dusk outside the window.

The afterglow of the setting sun streamed through the window, bathing the ward in a warm golden light.

Bian Yun sat up, feeling much better. The wound still hurt, but her spirits were much higher.

The ward door was gently pushed open.

Wang Kangmei walked in, followed by several people.

"Awake?" the old general asked.

"You're awake." Bian Yun got out of bed. "General Wang, the 'surprise' you mentioned..."

"Come with me." Wang Kangmei turned around. "I'll show you what we've prepared for the Japanese devils."

Bian Yun followed Wang Kangmei and took the elevator down.

It's not an ordinary basement.

The elevator descended at least fifty meters before stopping.

When the door opened, the sight before her made Bian Yun gasp for breath.

This is a vast underground space that seems to stretch on forever.

Brightly lit, with a steel structure, it exudes a futuristic feel.

The most awe-inspiring sights were the steel behemoths that stood in the center of the space.

A total of fifteen vehicles.

It's not a tank.

At least, it's not the "tank" that Bian Yun understands.

They are entirely black, painted with a matte material that absorbs light and reflects almost no light under illumination. The vehicles are low and flat, with sharply angled turrets, giving them a futuristic look.

Each vehicle's gun barrel is frighteningly thick—at least 120 millimeters in caliber. The turret is also equipped with various sensors, radar, and laser countermeasures devices.

Beside these chariots stood thirty-one people in neat rows.

They were all dressed in identical jungle camouflage combat uniforms, their faces painted with camouflage, their eyes sharp as knives. They stood ramrod straight, motionless, like thirty-one steel statues.

Wang Kangmei led Bian Yun to the front of the line.

"Let me introduce it." The old general's voice echoed in the empty underground space, "This is our army's latest generation main battle tank—the 'Kirin'. It features all-electric drive, stealth design, active protection system, and is capable of withstanding attacks, engaging in combat, and traversing terrain."

He paused:

"Originally, we considered bringing J-20s. But the J-20s are too large, requiring 300 cubic meters of space per aircraft. And the Battle of Luodian was a land battle, in such narrow terrain, tanks are more cost-effective."

Bian Yun's heart pounded as he looked at the "Qilin" tanks.

He knew that the Chinese army would be very strong by 2025, but he was still shocked when he saw the equipment with his own eyes.

"These tanks..." he asked, "can we take them with us?"

"Yes," Wang Kangmei nodded. "Based on exponential growth, your next time you travel through time, you can carry 32 cubic meters of space. A 'Qilin' tank, after being modularly disassembled, can be compressed to about 2 cubic meters. We have prepared fifteen of them—that's roughly the maximum number you can take next time."

He pointed to the thirty-one soldiers:

"And they were the elite marines from various theater commands of our army. Each of them was a top expert in their respective fields. They volunteered to go to Luodian in 1937."

Wang Kangmei began her introduction.

Each time he called on a person, that person would step forward, stand at attention, and announce their code name and special skills.

The first one was a short but wiry and powerful man:

"Cheetah! Southwest Theater Command, jungle warfare expert, skilled in infiltration, demolition, and trap placement. He can set up a minefield in three minutes that would wipe out an entire Japanese company."

The second one was a burly man with a scar on his face:

"Iron Anvil! A top-tier armored tank commander from the Northern Theater Command. He's driven every type of domestically produced tank, including the 'Kirin' which he tested. He said, 'I could penetrate three of those lightly armored tanks from 1937 with a single shot.'"

The third one was a young man with a calm, computer-like gaze:

"Hawkeye! Eastern Theater Command, sniper instructor. Effective range 2,500 meters, capable of hitting a coin in a Force 6 wind. He said: 'Those Japanese commanders in Luodian, I'll take their roll.'"

The fourth one was a woman with a lithe figure:

"Red-crowned Crane! Captain of the female special forces team, an expert in urban warfare. She said: 'The urban warfare of 1937 was too primitive. I'll teach the Japanese devils what modern urban warfare is.'"

The fifth, the sixth, the seventh...

Thirty-one men, thirty-one elite soldiers.

They have demolition experts, communications masters, top medics, elite engineers, and electronic warfare experts.

Everyone has their own unique skill, and everyone has their own story.

But at this moment, they only have one common goal—

Go to 1937.

Go to Luodian.

Go and fight alongside those martyrs who used their flesh and blood to resist the torrent of steel.

Go tell the Japanese devils—

What will China's army be like 88 years from now?

After the introductions were finished, Cheetah—the jungle warfare expert—stepped forward and spoke on behalf of everyone.

His voice wasn't loud, but every word struck like a hammer blow:

"Comrade Bian Yun."

"We know you're going back."

"Take us with you."

"We brothers—" he looked around at his comrades, "have trained as soldiers for so many years and learned how to kill for so many years."

"I thought I would never have the chance to avenge the martyrs in this lifetime."

"But now, the opportunity has come."

He looked at Bian Yun, his eyes burning with intensity.

"Let's go."

"Let's use the best equipment, the best tactics, and the best soldiers from 2025—"

"Go to Luodian in 1937."

"Tell those martyrs who are risking their lives to defend their positions—"

"The descendants of the future have arrived."

"They've arrived with steel they could never have dreamed of."

"Come and take their place—"

The cheetah took a deep breath and roared:

"Kill the Japanese devils—!!!"

Thirty-one elite soldiers roared in unison:

"Kill the Japanese devils—!!!"

"Kill the Japanese devils—!!!"

"Kill the Japanese devils—!!!"

The roar echoed through the underground space, making the steel structure hum.

Bian Yun looked at them, at those burning eyes, at those clenched fists.

Then, he nodded slowly.

"it is good."

"I'll take you there."

"Take these 'Kirin' tanks with you."

"I'll take you—"

He looked eastward, towards the direction of 1937, and spoke slowly and deliberately:

"Go to Luodian."

"To the little devils—"

"A 'surprise' I'll never forget."