Holding the original shares, they fought all the way to the Korean War!

"What else can we do!"

"Those little devils are sweeping around every day!"

Li Yunlong sighed.

But then his eyes widened immediately.

"But yesterday I led a battalion to ambush a Japanese squad."

"We wiped out more than twenty Japanese soldiers!"

"They seized thirteen Type 38 rifles and two hundred rounds of ammunition!"

When talking about the results of the battle, Li Yunlong's eyebrows danced with excitement.

Zhou Tianyang listened attentively.

My mind was racing.

According to historical records.

In April 1938, the 129th Division of the Eighth Route Army was establishing a base area in southeastern Shanxi.

The Japanese army then mobilized its forces to launch a nine-pronged attack.

As the main force, the 772nd Regiment fought dozens of battles, large and small, during this period.

Although it inflicted considerable casualties on the Japanese army, it also suffered severe losses itself.

"Where is the Third Battalion now?"

Zhou Tianyang asked.

"Your battalion's deputy battalion commander led the operation in the Wangjialing area."

As Li Yunlong spoke, he suddenly leaned closer and lowered his voice.

"Hey Zhou, you've survived this ordeal, don't you notice anything different?"

Zhou Tianyang's heart tightened, but his expression remained unchanged.

"What could be different?"

"wrong."

Li Yunlong shook his head and stared into his eyes.

"I've led troops for so many years, I'm very good at judging people."

"You used to be brave in battle, but you were always a bit... how should I put it, bookish."

"Now!"

He looked Zhou Tianyang up and down.

"His eyes are different now; there's a murderous aura in them, and a kind of..."

"I can't explain it either, but it's just different."

Zhou Tianyang was secretly alarmed.

Li Yunlong, as expected of a veteran who had fought his way through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, possessed an incredibly sharp intuition.

Although he inherited the original owner's memories and some of her emotions.

But essentially, he's still the same combined arms battalion commander from 2025.

They have undergone more systematic military training and have been exposed to more advanced tactical concepts.

I have witnessed even more brutal modern warfare.

This kind of mark is ingrained and cannot be hidden.

"A person who has died once should always have learned something."

Zhou Tianyang said calmly.

This is the most reasonable explanation.

Li Yunlong stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly burst into laughter.

"Good! That's more like it!"

"Our Eighth Route Army battalion commanders should have this kind of spirit!"

"You focus on recovering. Once you're able to walk again, let's team up and pull off something big!"

He put on his hat and walked towards the door.

"I have a meeting at the regimental headquarters, I'm off."

He turned back as he reached the door.

I glanced at your notebook.

"Those battle formation maps drawn inside are quite interesting."

"Let's talk when you're better."

After saying that, he strode away, his footsteps echoing in the corridor.

Zhou Tianyang leaned against the headboard and let out a long sigh of relief.

Li Yunlong is indeed no ordinary man.

That blood-stained notebook contained the original owner's combat records and tactics.

Unexpectedly, Li Yunlong was able to see through the trick.

"System, how much of my body's repair is complete?"

Zhou Tianyang asked himself silently.

[Super Serum Repair Progress: 99%!]

[Full repairs are expected to take another 1 to 2 hours.]

[The host's bodily functions have now recovered to 99% of their peak, with 100% clearance of hidden injuries and 99% healing rate for new wounds.]

Sure enough, it's almost finished.

Zhou Tianyang felt the power surging within his body.

That was the unique vigor of a twenty-year-old, yet he was stronger than the average twenty-year-old.

The feeling was like a rusty old machine being completely refurbished and brought back to life.

"Once it's fully repaired, we can start training."

He clenched his fist, and his knuckles cracked slightly.

First, restore your physical strength, then familiarize yourself with the weapons of this era.

Then you can go back to the battlefield.

Just then.

Dr. Zhang came in carrying a bowl of medicine.

"Battalion Commander Zhou, it's time for your medicine."

He handed over the medicine bowl, and then naturally grabbed Zhou Tianyang's wrist to take his pulse.

A few seconds later, Dr. Zhang's expression turned strange.

"What's wrong?"

Zhou Tianyang asked.

"Your pulse..."

Dr. Zhang frowned.

"He was very weak just three days ago, but now he is strong and energetic, it's like he's a completely different person."

"This doesn't make sense medically."

Zhou Tianyang remained unfazed.

"Perhaps it's because they're young that they recover so quickly."

"Even if you're young, you shouldn't do this."

Dr. Zhang shook his head, but didn't delve into it further.

Battlefield medics have witnessed countless miracles.

Some soldiers were so badly wounded that they barely had time to breathe, but they pulled through and were able to walk again after a few days.

He attributed this to the tenacious vitality of the Eighth Route Army soldiers.

After giving a few more instructions, Dr. Zhang left.

Zhou Tianyang leaned against the headboard, his mind filled with a myriad of thoughts.

I started to organize the tactical system in my mind.

Modern military theory, combined arms battalion combat model, information warfare thinking, lessons learned from World War II and subsequent wars...

This knowledge is something that no military strategist of this era possesses.

But the problem is...

How can we transform them into real combat power?

What does the 772nd Regiment have now?

The old-fashioned rifles, Hanyang rifles, and a small number of Zhongzheng rifles meant that each soldier had less than ten bullets on average.

Heavy weapons?

The entire regiment probably only had a few old-fashioned machine guns.

Mortars were a luxury that people couldn't even dream of.

"We must start with the basics!"

Zhou Tianyang tapped his fingers lightly on the edge of the bed, his brain racing.

Training methods are the most effective in the short term.

The original owner's notebook already contained some thoughts on squad tactics and shooting training, but they were not systematic enough.

Zhou Tianyang could introduce the basic training system of the modern army.

Gun stance, aiming baseline, alignment of three points, breathing control, trigger preload...

These are things that are considered common sense by later generations.

It may have been the year 1938 that determined life and death.

There are also tactics.

The Eighth Route Army's sixteen-character guerrilla warfare strategy.

"When the enemy advances, we retreat; when the enemy camps, we harass; when the enemy tires, we attack; when the enemy retreats, we pursue."

This is the essence of guerrilla warfare in this era.

But Zhou Tianyang could do it in more detail.

For example, the choice of ambush sites.

The original owner's sketches in the notebook still relied on the traditional approach of setting up ambushes on both sides and blocking the middle.

Zhou Tianyang could incorporate concepts such as pre-planned retreat routes, backup positions, and separation of observation posts from command posts.

Another example is the night raid tactic.

In this era, night vision equipment was lacking, and night combat relied more on experience and courage.

But Zhou Tianyang knew some basic night combat techniques.

How to use the angle of the moonlight to avoid revealing your figure, how to wrap your footsteps in cloth to reduce noise, and how to use gestures instead of verbal commands.

"These things all take time."

Zhou Tianyang looked out the window and sighed.

Time is precisely what they lack most.

In April 1938, the Japanese army was launching a nine-pronged attack on southeastern Shanxi.

In the coming months, the 129th Division will face unprecedented pressure.

As the main force, the 772nd Regiment will inevitably be involved in the fiercest battles.

"I must recover as soon as possible and get back to the unit as soon as possible."

An hour later.

"System, check the status."

[Super Serum Repair Progress: 100%]

[Physical condition: Human limits.]

Current points: 1000.

[Skills: None.]

Map functionality: Not yet unlocked.

"It's completely fixed."

Zhou Tianyang sat up smoothly and naturally, without any discomfort.

The wound on my left chest no longer hurts at all.

He reached out and touched it; the skin under the bandage seemed to have mostly healed.

Then he threw off the covers, got out of bed, and stood up steadily on his feet.

I felt no dizziness or weakness.

On the contrary, he could feel the blood rushing through his veins and the muscles poised beneath his skin.

Like a perfectly maintained machine, it can run at full speed at any time.

"Is this the limit of human physical capabilities?"

Zhou Tianyang tried a few squats and stretches, and the movements were easy and natural.

He even wanted to try to do a few push-ups.

But considering that this was a hospital, we decided against it.

……

Two days later.

It was December 4th.

Nine o'clock in the morning.

Heavy footsteps came from outside the door.

The door was pushed open.

Li Yunlong walked in.

Zhou Tianyang turned his head to look, and his heart sank slightly.

The rough, hearty, and animated Li Yunlong who used to recount the ambush results was gone.

He stood at the door with a gloomy expression.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his beard seemed even more disheveled.

He didn't even greet people in his usual loud voice.

He walked in silently, dragged over the old wooden stool, and sat down heavily beside Zhou Tianyang's bed.

The room was deathly silent.

Zhou Tianyang looked at Li Yunlong.

This tough man had his head down.

He rested his hands on his knees, his fingers digging deep into his thighs, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.

He was trembling, though very slightly, but Zhou Tianyang could see it clearly.

That wasn't a trembling of fear.

It was anger, it was grief, it was some kind of immense emotion that had no outlet.