Chapter Nine: Now We're Playing with Firearms!

If the opposing force had been an ordinary army of the Great Xia, Kozo Nakamura’s actions would have been perfectly sound. Yet, consumed by anger and panic, he seemed to have forgotten the most crucial fact.

Blinded by arrogance and pride, Kozo Nakamura had neglected to thoroughly scout the firepower of the New First Regiment before the battle. This, after all, was consistent with their simplistic mindset: the Great Xia Army could not possibly possess large-scale automated firearms.

But the New First Regiment was no ordinary Great Xia unit—it was almost entirely equipped with automated weapons.

Kozo Nakamura would pay for his oversight with his life.

...

“Huh?”

Zhang Dabiao barely registered the sudden charge of the Japanese soldiers rushing out from their lines and toward his position. Then it dawned on him what Kozo Nakamura was thinking.

Ready for close-quarters combat? Didn’t they see he was wielding automatic firearms? And yet they dared to charge.

They were practically delivering themselves to death on a silver platter.

The regiment commander truly had uncanny foresight!

Zhang Dabiao’s expression brightened instantly; he quickly signaled to the soldiers behind him.

“When it comes to hand-to-hand combat and bayonet fighting, we Great Xia are the ancestors of the Japanese. How can we let these disrespectful foes dishonor their ancestors?”

“But these days, we wield firearms!”

“Brothers, don’t rush to shoot just yet. Don’t scare them off too early. Let the enemy come close before opening fire!”

“Not a single Japanese soldier must escape!”

“Yes, sir!” The soldiers nodded excitedly. None had expected the enemy to be so bold as to dare close combat, thinking their weapons were no threat to them.

How amusing.

As the Japanese First Infantry Battalion of the Sakata Regiment charged forward, the expected artillery barrage did not follow.

Seeing the New First Regiment soldiers not firing but apparently preparing for hand-to-hand combat, Kozo Nakamura’s heart leapt with joy.

It’s settled!

We’ve got this!

...

When it came to close combat, they had never once met a worthy opponent.

The Japanese soldiers of Sakata’s First Infantry Battalion shared the same confidence.

“We’re the best foot soldiers in the world!”

“Prepare to die, Zhina people!”

The distance between the two sides steadily closed.

One hundred meters.

Eighty meters.

Sixty meters.

Forty meters.

Twenty meters.

Just as the Japanese soldiers eagerly prepared for the charge, the New First Regiment soldiers suddenly raised their MP40 submachine guns and M1 Garand semi-automatic rifles.

In an instant, nearly a thousand dark barrels were all aimed at the charging Japanese.

What!?

At the call of their homeland’s great god, Kozo Nakamura and his men turned deathly pale and began retreating in unison.

What about the promised hand-to-hand combat?

You... you have no honor!

It was only then that Kozo Nakamura realized: the enemy was not wielding single-shot rifles like them but automatic firearms!

Damn it!

Zhang Dabiao tore off his military cap and slammed it to the ground with force. Then, shouldering his MP40, he roared:

“Fire at them with everything you’ve got!”

With Zhang Dabiao’s furious shout, the soldiers seemed to ignite a blazing fury within themselves, pulling their triggers one after another.

Rat-a-tat... rat-a-tat...

The fierce gunfire roared like a violent storm.

With merely twenty meters between them, even a novice soldier could hit his target if he aimed properly.

And the New First Regiment’s soldiers were well-trained, having fired hundreds of rounds, hardened into excellent fighters.

Bullets rained down like a torrential downpour.

Each shot mercilessly struck the Japanese soldiers, splattering crimson blood into the air.

The Japanese fell like wheat under the scythe, shot down one after another.

Especially those leading the charge—Kozo Nakamura and his men—became riddled with bullets in the blink of an eye.

They collapsed instantly, never to rise again.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat!

The air was filled with the furious roar of submachine guns and rifles, mingled with the terrified screams of the dying Japanese.

This was a one-sided massacre.

The Japanese soldiers desperately fleeing no longer wore their former cocky, brutal expressions. Instead, their faces were etched with sheer terror and hopelessness.

All the so-called glory of the Great Yamato Empire and the mythic Bushido spirit were worthless when facing true life-and-death peril.

In this moment, only one thought remained in their minds:

Escape!

Flee this dreadful place and return to their distant homeland!

Once they set foot on cherry blossoms again, they swore never to fight in this foreign land again.

Yet the soldiers showed no mercy for these cursed invaders; they would not let these beasts escape.

To hell with them!

In less than half a minute, tens of thousands of bullets poured like a tempest upon the Japanese within arm’s reach.

The bullets, seemingly guided by some malevolent intelligence, found their marks unerringly, snuffing out lives with ruthless efficiency.

Soon, just twenty meters ahead lay a chaotic heap of countless Japanese corpses.

Still, it must be admitted, the Japanese soldiers of the Sakata Regiment were fierce warriors, worthy of their reputation as elite second-line troops.

As they realized that charging forward or retreating both meant certain death, something unexpected happened.

Some Japanese soldiers suddenly dropped to the ground without hesitation, using the bodies of their fallen comrades as makeshift cover.

These men were not feigning cowardice.

They were quietly waiting for the perfect moment to counterattack.

Time passed by the second as the New First Regiment soldiers fought valiantly, pulling their triggers repeatedly.

When their magazines emptied and they reached for fresh ones at their sides, a terrifying sight emerged from the mound of corpses.

A grim-faced Japanese officer sprang to his feet, roaring hysterically:

“Charge to death!!!”

At his mad cry, nearly a hundred surviving Japanese soldiers, covered in torn flesh and blood, erupted like phantoms from the pile of bodies.

Like demons from hell, bayonets fixed on their Type 38 rifles, they yelled “Banzai!” and launched a countercharge against the New First Regiment soldiers just twenty meters ahead.