On the eve of the fall of Liaodong, he led his troops in a remonstrance against the young marshal.

"Charge! Anyone who dares to retreat even a step will be shot dead by the soldiers behind them."

"The Imperial Army has no need for cowards."

"Ducks, give them a good beating! Kill these Chinese!"

The order was quickly delivered by a messenger on horseback.

On the open ground, the soldiers who had been lying on the ground in fright from the rocket barrage were kicked up again by the officers' boots and shouts, and the chaotic skirmish lines were reorganized into a charging formation.

This time, Inoue did not keep any reserves.

He sent two detachments of his auxiliary troops, along with the remaining nearly 20,000 men, to form a two-kilometer-wide front of attack, pressing towards the southern city wall of Fengcheng from three directions simultaneously.

A yellowish-brown crowd covered the entire open space, bayonets gleaming coldly in the morning light, like a moving sea of ​​knives.

Four infantry regiments of the 37th Brigade followed closely behind Pu Congjun, about two hundred meters away.

The formation of these Japanese regular troops was significantly more orderly than that of the common soldiers. Their skirmish lines were straight, and the angles of their bayonets were almost identical. The sunlight shone on the blades, reflecting rows of neat, cold light.

Their faces showed no fear or hesitation like those of servants joining the army, only the coldness unique to professional soldiers.

In their eyes, the rocket barrage just now, though terrifying, was aimed at the artillery positions and did not hit them.

They were an army that had never suffered a defeat. From the First Sino-Japanese War to the Russo-Japanese War to the Manchurian Incident, the empire's infantry charges were always invincible.

The dilapidated Phoenix City could not withstand the bayonets of the Imperial Army.

On the city wall, Yu Zhishan looked down at the crowd below, which was even denser than before, and his heart almost jumped out of his throat.

The artillery positions were destroyed, which was a good thing, but the breach in the city wall remained, and more than 20,000 people were surging in like a tide.

Meanwhile, his First Brigade was running out of ammunition, and the casualties among the soldiers were increasing.

He turned to look at Zhang Xueming on the city wall.

Zhang Xueming showed no sign of panic. He turned around and said four words to Yuan Lang and Zhan Lang behind him.

"It's your turn!"

Yuan Lang snapped to attention, clenched his right fist, and struck his left chest twice, producing two dull thuds. He

He turned and strode down the city wall, his leather boots making a rapid clattering sound on the stone steps.

Zhan Lang did not salute, but simply nodded slightly. He drew a Mauser pistol from his waist with his right hand, twirled it in his hand, and then led his guards down the city wall with Yuan Lang.

The two of them went in different directions.

Yuan Lang led a thousand elite soldiers straight to the various firing points on the city wall, while Zhan Lang led a hundred guards to block the back of the south gate, directly facing the gap blasted open by cannon fire.

On the city wall, a thousand elite soldiers entered their positions.

Their arrival startled the soldiers of the First Brigade who were lying behind the battlements.

Because the guns these suicide squad soldiers carried were completely different from theirs.

The soldiers of the First Brigade were armed with old-fashioned rifles and Liaoning Type 13 pistols, firing one shot and then pulling the bolt back, resulting in an appallingly slow rate of fire.

The soldiers of the suicide squad were carrying a type of rifle they had never seen before.

The gun barrel was shorter than the old slide, the stock was a beautiful walnut color, and a square magazine was mounted on top of the bolt, which held eight bullets.

What surprised the soldiers of the First Brigade the most was that these suicide squad soldiers could fire continuously without pulling the bolt.

"Bang bang bang!"

He fired all eight bullets in one go, with less than a second between them. The rate of fire was so fast that it was as if eight people were firing at the same time.

This is the M1 Garand semi-automatic rifle.

The only semi-automatic rifle to be issued as standard issue during World War II, Patton called it "the greatest combat weapon ever made".

On the European battlefield, it rendered the German Mauser 98K unable to raise its head, and on the Pacific battlefield, it rendered the Japanese Type 38 unstoppable.

Now, Zhang Xueming has used system points to redeem each of his assassins, equipping them with such rifles.

"Bang bang bang!"

"Bang bang bang!"

A thousand suicide squad soldiers opened fire simultaneously on the city wall, and the sound was nothing like the firing of a thousand rifles.

Instead, it was a dense barrage of gunfire, like a storm, mixed with the sounds of ping-pong balls.

Bullets rained down from the city walls like water, carving bloody furrows in the yellowish-brown crowd below.

The soldiers' charging formation crashed into an invisible wall fifty meters from the city wall.

That was a wall of death formed by the firepower of the suicide squad.

The soldiers at the forefront fell down in droves, as if they had been possessed by a ghost.

Some had bullets pierce their heads, leaving a finger-sized hole in their helmets, from which blood and brain matter gushed out.

Some were hit in the chest, their cotton military uniforms bursting open in a red flower pattern, and their bodies fell straight backward, crashing onto the people behind them.

Some had their legs broken, and they fell screaming on the frozen black earth. Before they could even crawl away, they were trampled into a pulp by their companions who surged up from behind.

The charging formation collapsed on a large scale within three minutes.

It wasn't that the soldiers didn't want to charge, but that the people in front of them were dying too quickly, and the survivors instinctively wanted to dodge the bullets that were raining down like a storm.

The skirmish line of the soldiers who joined the army changed from a straight line to a winding, jagged shape.

Upon witnessing this scene, Inoue was so enraged he nearly exploded. He immediately ordered the regular troops behind him to carry out indiscriminate attacks on the fleeing servants at the front.

"Rat-a-tat-tat!"

"Rat-a-tat-tat!"

The regular soldiers of the 37th Brigade raised their guns behind the servants and opened fire without hesitation on any servant who tried to retreat.

Bullets from the Type 38 rifle flew over the heads of the soldiers. Several soldiers who turned to run away were shot through the back by their own men and fell into pools of blood with screams.

Advancing meant certain death, retreating meant certain death; the soldiers were caught between two death zones and had no choice but to grit their teeth and keep charging forward.

A desperate madness permeated the battlefield. Some people were screaming and running forward, while others simply lay down in piles of corpses and pretended to be dead, refusing to get up no matter how much the officers kicked and beat them.

After these servants went completely mad, they ran headlong into the 100-man guard of the Wolf Warriors.

Instead of going up the city wall, Zhan Lang and his hundred guards blocked the breach in the wall.

Their task is not to plug the breach, but to guard it.

The Wolf Warriors' guards are equipped with a different type of gun.

That was a more ferocious weapon than the M1, the Type 95 assault rifle.

In another time and space, this is something that will appear decades later.

The bullpup design compresses the overall length of the gun to an extremely short size, and the gun body is made of black engineering plastic and aluminum alloy.

It looks completely unlike any firearm from this era; it has that bulky, steely feel, and instead resembles a finely crafted artifact from another planet.

This gun can switch between single-shot and burst-fire modes. In burst-fire mode, the rate of fire is up to 600 rounds per minute, the magazine capacity is 30 rounds, and the firepower is equivalent to that of a light machine gun.

Most importantly, the penetrating power of the 5.8mm bullet is far superior to that of the Japanese Type 38 6.5mm bullet.

A single shot can go right through a person, with the bullet going in from the front and coming out from the back, and the exit point being about the size of a fist.

Zhanlang stood in the center of the gap, tucked the two Mauser pistols back into his waistband, and switched to a Type 95 pistol in his hand.

He didn't squat or lie down like ordinary soldiers; instead, he stood upright.

With the butt of the rifle resting on his right shoulder, his left leg forward and his right leg back, and his body slightly leaning forward, his posture was as perfect as a shooting diagram in a textbook.

A group of soldiers, about a hundred or so, rushed out of the gap, bayonets held high, shouting incoherently in Korean, climbing up the broken bricks.

"First team! Fire!"

"Rat-a-tat-tat-tat!"

Wolf Warrior pulled the trigger, and the Type 95 rifle emitted a short, sharp sound.

The bullets spewed from the muzzle at a rate of nine per second, and the spent cartridges clattered to the ground, making a crisp sound as they hit the broken bricks.

The ten guards in the front row opened fire at once.

Those hundred or so servants and soldiers all fell down within three seconds.

The bullet holes formed neat horizontal lines on their chests, as if someone had measured them with a ruler; each person had been hit in the chest more than twice.

Every soldier who joined the army died a gruesome death, his body nearly torn in two.

The servants behind him were startled and instinctively tried to run away.

"Give me a duck!"

"Give me a duck!"

The Japanese regular army drove the soldiers along, and the soldiers had no choice but to continue charging.

Thousands of soldiers joined the army and stormed through the breach.

"Rat-a-tat-tat!"

"Rat-a-tat-tat!"

The hundred guards behind Wolf Warrior opened fire simultaneously.

They employed alternating firing tactics, with fifty men firing from a kneeling position and fifty men firing from a standing position. After firing a magazine in the standing position, they would switch to the kneeling position, and then change magazines in the standing position, with the interval between firings not exceeding one second.

This alternation ensured that the gap maintained a constant firepower output of fifty guns.

One hundred automatic rifles went berserk at the breach.

Bullets sprayed out from the gap, creating a dense network of bullet holes in the pile of rubble.

The bullet holes were so dense that even the bricks themselves couldn't withstand the impact. Bricks shattered one by one, and dust and debris flew in the air, forming a hazy fog in the sunlight.

If I, a soldier, dare to show my face, I will be killed instantly.

In a short period of time, at least a thousand servants and soldiers were massacred.

Less than ten meters outside the gap, the bodies of Pu Congjun were piled up into a low wall.

The yellowish-brown cotton military uniforms mixed with dark red blood stained the frozen black earth a murky dark brown.

Taro Inoue lowered his binoculars at the observation post.

His face was filled with shock and disbelief.

The firepower of the Fengcheng garrison far exceeded all his previous estimates.

This is not the Yu Zhishan Brigade that was described in the intelligence as being poorly trained and outdated. This is clearly an elite force with firepower density exceeding that of the Imperial Army.

The enemy's intense firepower had been relentless since it began; he had never heard gunfire like that in all his years of fighting.

It's like setting off an endless firecracker, going off from beginning to end, and it's still going off like crazy right now.

How did these things end up in the hands of the Northeast Army? When did the Northeast Army become like this?

But Inoue is not the kind of person who would change his plans because of a shock.

He took a deep breath, threw the binoculars on the table, and turned to look at his chief of staff.

"It's no use for me to join the army."

Inoue's voice was calm: "Let them keep charging and wear down the defenders' ammunition."

"The 37th Brigade, all units, prepare to show these Northeastern Army soldiers what the fear of the Empire truly means!"