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

Within five minutes, two hundred of the six hundred Japanese soldiers on the northern flank were killed.

Of the 500 Japanese soldiers on the south flank, 180 died.

However, the Japanese troops on the north and south flanks were mostly logistics soldiers and wounded soldiers.

Their role was to cover the charge of 1,200 elite Japanese soldiers on the front.

These 1,200 Japanese soldiers were the "spearhead" of the wedge formation.

On the thermal imager, there are 1,200 red dots, and the thermal signal is intense and stable.

Lieutenant Colonel Koji Matsumoto, commander of the 4th Regiment of the 3rd Brigade of the Japanese Army, drew his sword and pointed it at the Chinese positions:

"Long live the Emperor!!!"

"charge--!!!"

Twelve hundred Japanese soldiers, howling like wild beasts, with explosive packs strapped to their waists, began to run wildly.

In the very center was the 5th Infantry Regiment, personally led by Colonel Takeshi Noda, the regimental commander.

At this moment, he stood at the very front of the charging column, holding a military knife in his left hand and a Rising Sun Flag in his right, a ferocious, maniacal grin on his face:

"The Chinese only have five tanks—!!!"

"Use our flesh and blood—to plug their cannon barrels—!!!"

"The Emperor's Samurai—Invincible—!!!"

Eight hundred Japanese soldiers followed him in the charge.

Many people tore open their shirts as they ran, revealing their emaciated chests—

They wanted to use their bodies to meet the bullets, and then, with their last breath, throw themselves onto the tank and detonate the explosives.

Their mission was simple: to risk their lives for the tank tracks.

1,400 meters.

1,300 meters.

1200 meters

"Fire." Bian Yun's voice was very soft, as soft as a sigh in the wind.

Left wing.

The main cannon of the No. 101 "Kirin" spews out scorching flames.

Another high-explosive shell.

The 125mm high-explosive grenade traced a near-straight trajectory through the air.

The distance was too close; the trajectory was almost flat.

Projectile flight time: 3.1 seconds.

Target: The densest point of the wedge formation on the north wing, the location of Lieutenant Colonel Koji Matsumoto.

Matsumoto saw the plume of white smoke.

His instinct was to lie down, but the next second—

The shell exploded in mid-air fifteen meters above his head.

The time-delay fuse works precisely, allowing the high-explosive warhead to detonate at the optimal lethal altitude.

It wasn't an explosion.

It is a piece.

Pre-fabricated fragments were scattered downwards like a shower of flowers, covering an area with a diameter of fifty meters.

Matsumoto's last sensation was as if countless red-hot iron needles were piercing his body.

Then, darkness.

The two hundred or so Japanese soldiers around him were riddled with holes in the same instant.

Blood and gore, barely recognizable as human.

Bian Yun looked at the horrific state of the Japanese troops, a smile playing on his lips, and said:

"Use high-explosive shells sparingly. Next, please let the machine guns speak."

After saying that,

The parallel machine guns of "Kirin" No. 102 and No. 103 began to roar simultaneously.

The sound of a 12.7mm heavy machine gun is not "rat-a-tat-tat", but "thump-thump-thump"—like a giant beating a drum.

With each "thud," a bullet was fired.

Each bullet weighs one hundred grams.

Initial velocity: 900 meters per second.

They flew over a distance of 800 meters and crashed into the Japanese soldiers' ranks.

The first person to be hit was an engineer carrying a satchel charge.

The bullet entered through his left shoulder and exited through his right waist.

It's not a penetration—it's a tear.

His upper and lower body were only connected by a little bit of skin and flesh.

As he fell, the explosive charge fell to the ground, was stepped on by someone behind him, and triggered it.

boom!

They took three more with them.

Next, there was a sergeant wielding a saber.

The bullet hit his right knee.

The leg was severed at the knee and flew three meters away.

He fell with a scream, and the charging men behind him couldn't stop and trampled over him.

Crush it into minced meat.

Next, there was a Japanese soldier carrying a cluster of grenades.

The bullet hit the wooden handle of the grenade in his arms.

The grenade didn't explode; you need to pull the pin.

But the impact of the bullet knocked the grenade from his arms and it fell into the crowd next to him.

Another soldier instinctively picked it up, intending to throw it at the tank—

However, the wooden handle of the grenade had been cracked, exposing the fuse.

He touched it, and the fuse was triggered.

In the last few seconds of his life, he looked up and met the eyes of the Japanese soldier who had been holding the grenade at the beginning.

That's fucking awkward.

boom!

These two Japanese soldiers, along with several others in the vicinity, set off together.

The coaxial machine guns continued to fire.

The machine gun bullets, like the plow of death, carved bloody alleys through the Japanese skirmish lines.

Some of the charging Japanese soldiers had their intestines hanging from the broken tree trunks, some had their heads rolled into the craters with their eyes still staring at the sky, and some had their limbs blown off and their torsos twitching on the ground like fish out of water.

Blood splattered, forming an eerie, pale red mist in the morning light.

The Japanese troops charging head-on were indeed the elite of the Third Brigade.

They trampled over the corpses, their eyes wide and mouths watering, as they continued their charge toward the Qilin tank.

Noda Takeshi was at the very front.

His Rising Sun Flag had been smashed to pieces, leaving only half a flagpole. His saber was also broken, and he was clutching half of the blade in his hand.

By this time, more than half of the 1,200 Japanese soldiers had died.

There are about four hundred left.

They learned their lesson—they stopped clustering together, began to spread out, started to maneuver in serpentine patterns, and began to use craters, corpses, and wreckage as cover.

Distance: 500 meters.

Four hundred meters.

300 meters —

Two hundred and fifty meters.

Two hundred meters —

Noda Takeshi's eyes were frighteningly bright.

He saw hope.

If I just rush another hundred meters, I can throw the explosive charge in my hand.

As long as we can blow off a track, as long as we can block a cannon—

150 meters.

One hundred meters —

On the Chinese position, Bian Yun sat inside the No. 104 Qilin tank, pressed the full-band communication button, and spoke calmly:

"Comrades, let's conserve some ammunition for the coaxial machine guns."

"If the Japanese want to get close, then give them a chance to get close to the Kirin tank."

"It will also let them understand how far-fetched this so-called human wave tactic is."

As soon as he finished speaking, all five Qilin tanks shut down simultaneously.

It wasn't that the engine had shut down—the low hum of the electric motor was still going on.

The weapon system has shut down.

The main gun stopped rotating and the muzzle was lowered.

The coaxial machine guns cease firing and their barrels are cooled.

The active defense system has entered standby mode.

The entire tank formation suddenly fell silent.

Like five silent steel mountains, they stood still, waiting for something.

The Japanese troops charging forward were clearly taken aback for a moment.

Noda Takeya was stunned.

But he was immediately overjoyed:

"They've run out of ammunition—!!!"

"charge--!!!"

"The jade shatters—!!!"

The last four hundred or so Japanese soldiers erupted in a final frenzy, charging toward the five stationary tanks with even greater determination.

Eighty meters.

Fifty meters.

Thirty meters —

The Japanese soldiers in the front row could already see the fine scratches on the tank's armor plates and the bone fragments stuck in the gaps between the tracks.

They roared, raised the explosive charges, and lit the fuses.

But just as they were ten meters from the tracks—

Bian Yun's No. 104 Qilin Tank suddenly moved.

It's not reversing.

Yes... move forward.

Advance towards the charging Japanese troops.

It took only 1.2 seconds to accelerate from zero to twenty kilometers per hour.

But it neither fired its cannons nor used its machine guns.

But... he went to meet them.

Like a moving steel mountain, it calmly, indifferently, and irresistibly met the surging tide of Japanese troops.

Behind Bian Yun was Angel driving the No. 105 Qilin Tank.

Bian Yun connected to communication channel 105:

"Angel."

"you--"

He paused:

"Feel free to improvise."

A brief silence.

Then, a calm, almost gentle female voice came through the earphones:

"receive."

"I can……"

The angel paused, a faint hint of amusement in his voice:

"They meticulously cleaned, following behind the wingmen..."