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

Bian Yun looked towards the countdown to the return of the People's Republic of China:

[8 hours and 11 minutes]

"Safe." Lu Bei was already in combat mode. He quickly scanned his surroundings, his voice extremely low.

"No survivors for now. There's a Japanese corpse about 30 meters to the left front; it just died recently. To the right rear... there's movement."

Bian Yun looked in the direction he pointed.

Fifty meters away, in a dilapidated house, one could vaguely see figures moving about, dressed in Chinese military uniforms.

"They are our brothers." Bian Yun counted: "Six people."

Six figures crouched low as they rushed out of the building and quickly moved toward the ruins.

They moved with practiced skill, using the broken walls and craters as cover to leap forward in alternating leaps.

The leader was tall and thin, holding a Type 24 rifle with the butt against his shoulder, his eyes scanning the surroundings warily.

Suddenly, the man stopped and raised his left hand to make a gesture.

The five men behind him immediately crouched down and raised their guns in a guard position.

The tall, thin man's gaze was fixed on the crumbling wall where Bian Yun and Lu Bei were hiding.

He discovered it, or rather, Bian Yun deliberately let them discover it.

The tall, thin man spoke. His voice was hoarse, but deliberately kept very low:

"Hey bro over there! Which department are you from?!"

It's a Sichuan accent.

Bian Yun took a deep breath, peeked out from behind the crumbling wall, and lowered his voice: "Commander Yao's men! The garrison of Baoshan County!"

The tall, thin man visibly paused for a moment. He gestured behind him, signaling the others to stay put, and then crouched low as he quickly approached. He stopped ten meters away, hiding behind a concrete pillar, revealing half his face.

It was a young face, no more than twenty years old, but covered in soot and blood, with sunken eyes and cracked lips. Only those eyes still shone, like two flickering flames in the ashes.

"Battalion Commander Yao?" The tall, thin man frowned. "Battalion Commander Yao is over at the county government office, about three miles from here. What are you doing here?"

Bian Yun said directly:

"We are... reinforcements," he said. "We came from out of town. Battalion Commander Yao sent us to support you."

"Reinforcements?" The tall, thin man's eyes lit up, but then dimmed. "Stop talking nonsense. Where are you reinforcements from? You're dressed so strangely."

Lu Bei suddenly spoke. He also spoke Sichuan dialect, so fluently that Bian Yun was stunned:

"Hey bro, which county are you from?"

The tall, thin man paused again, then said, "Yibin."

"What a coincidence," Lu Bei said, his voice carrying a deliberately relaxed laugh. "I'm also from Yibin."

The tall, thin man's guard visibly relaxed: "You really are..."

"You've really come to help." Lu Bei slowly stood up, but his hands remained on his sides.

"Brother, now is not the time for interrogation. The Japanese are about to attack. Let's find a safe place and set these things up—they're all good for fighting tanks."

He patted the black box.

The tall, thin man hesitated for a few seconds, looked back at his brothers, and then at the sky—the black smoke in the east was getting thicker and thicker, and the sound of artillery fire was extending in their direction.

"Okay," he finally said, "follow me. I know this place very well."

He made a gesture, and five brothers behind him quickly gathered. They were all the same age, their faces covered in gunpowder, and their eyes burning with fire.

"My name is Chen Shitou," the tall, thin man said. "We got separated from the main group, and now there are only six of us left."

He spoke in a calm tone, as if he were talking about the weather. But Bian Yun noticed that his knuckles were white from gripping the gun so tightly.

Chen Shitou led them through a pile of ruins and into the entrance of a partially collapsed basement. The space inside was small but relatively intact, with ventilation openings, allowing them to hear sounds from outside but preventing direct sunlight from reaching them.

Chen Shitou said, "The walls here are thick; the Japanese bombed it several times but it didn't collapse completely. We've been holding out here for two days."

Lu Bei put down the box and quickly opened it. As the adaptive inflatable mold released, revealing the equipment inside—

Chen Shitou and his five brothers were all frozen in place.

Their eyes widened and their mouths slightly agape, as if they had seen something completely beyond their comprehension.

"This...this is..." Chen Shitou pointed at the PF-97 rocket launcher, his finger trembling slightly. "A cannon?"

"This is the only individual rocket launcher I brought." Lu Bei quickly assembled it. "It's for attacking tanks. One shot can turn a steel turtle into scrap metal."

He then took out anti-tank grenades, picked up a drone, and a sniper rifle...

With each item they took out, Chen Shitou and his companions' eyes widened a little more.

When Lu Bei finished assembling the CS/LR4 sniper rifle and attaching the scope, the youngest soldier—who looked no more than sixteen or seventeen years old—finally couldn't help but mutter:

"This gun...it's so beautiful..."

There was an almost devout envy in his voice.

Lu Bei glanced at him and handed him the gun: "Want to touch it?"

The young soldier timidly reached out, his fingertips barely touching the cold barrel before he recoiled as if electrocuted. He shook his head, blushing, "I...I don't know how to use this kind of gun. I use the old-fashioned rifle..."

"I'll teach you," Lu Bei said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I'll teach you now."

Outside, the sound of artillery fire grew closer.

The ground began to tremble slightly, and dust began to fall from the ceiling.

"The Japanese are coming again!" Chen Shitou peered through the ventilation shaft, his voice tense. "At least a company, and two tanks."

"To be honest, if it weren't for you guys, the six of us would have already strapped on grenades and launched a counter-charge against the tanks."

Lu Bei and Bian Yun exchanged a glance.

"Perfect timing." Lu Bei grinned, a smile tinged with almost cruel excitement. "Shi Tou, have your men prepare the grenades. Throw them only when I give the order. Bian Yun, you operate the drone and mark the tank positions first."

He quickly assigned tasks:

"Hey kid, come here," he called to the sixteen-year-old soldier. "I'll teach you how to use this."

The soldier ran over, and Lu Bei shoved the sniper rifle into his arms, quickly explaining, "This is the scope, this is the sight, and this is the trigger. Watch where I shoot, and then you'll shoot the same way."

"I...I'm afraid I won't be able to hit it..."

"Don't be afraid." Lu Bei patted him on the shoulder. "The gun in your hand is more accurate than all the Japanese guns combined."

He then looked at Chen Shitou: "Shitou, you use the rocket launcher. I'll teach you how to aim—it's very simple, even simpler than shooting at a moving target with a rifle."

Chen Shitou nodded emphatically, his eyes shining brightly.

Bian Yun had already turned on the drone control terminal. Four "Hummingbird" micro-drones silently flew out from the crack in the basement and took off.

On the screen, four separate views transmit overhead images in real time.

The entire street is laid out before you.

Two small, tan-colored dots—Japanese Type 95 light tanks—were slowly advancing along the street, followed by a dense troop of infantry, crouching low with their guns pointed forward.

"Two hundred meters away," Bian Yun reported. "Tankers are thirty meters apart. Infantry are spread out on both sides of the tanks..."

Lu Bei leaned over for a look and nodded.

He picked up the Peregrine Falcon armed drone and attached an anti-tank grenade.

"Let's give them a surprise first."

On the ground, Lieutenant Yamada, the Japanese company commander, held up binoculars and observed the ruins ahead.

"The Chinese army should be in this area," he said to the sergeant beside him. "We encountered fierce resistance here yesterday. Today, we'll crush them with tanks."

Sergeant No. 1 nodded: "Hai! These Chinese don't have anti-tank weapons, they can only fight desperately with cluster grenades. Once they charge out, the machine guns can mow them down—"

His words came to an abrupt end.

Because he saw something fly out of a crack in the ruins ahead.

The thing had four rotors, was entirely black, and was only the size of a palm. It was rising rapidly, and something seemed to be hanging below it.

"What's that?" Yamada frowned. "A bird? No, wait..."

"Shoot!" Yamada shouted instinctively.

But it was too late.

The Peregrine drone swooped down and flew over the first tank from a height of fifteen meters.

The suspension mechanism has been released.

The anti-tank grenade fell vertically.

It struck the open hatch of the tank precisely.

The Japanese pilot in the cockpit heard a "thud" and before he could react, he saw a lump of iron roll to his feet.

His eyes widened, and his mouth opened—

boom!!!!

The explosion occurred inside the tank. The turret was completely blown off, and the hull instantly became a burning iron coffin.

The crew of the second tank were terrified. The commander leaned out of the turret and frantically fired into the air. But the drone had already taken off and disappeared behind the ruins.

"Baka! What is that thing?!" Yamada roared.

Before he could finish speaking...

boom--

A dull blast of gunfire, completely different from the sound of a Type 38 rifle.

When Yamada saw the commander of the second tank, his head exploded like a watermelon. Red and white splattered onto the turret.

"Sniper! Take cover!" he roared as he collapsed to the ground.

But it was too late to make any arrangements.

Because from within the ruins came an even more terrifying sound—

That was the shrill sound of a rocket being launched...