You are ordered to support the War of Resistance against Japan; China enters Level 1 combat readines

"Report, the Japanese soldiers on the ground... are laughing."

Zhao Dahe's voice was transmitted to each team member's ears through the earphones.

The team members were all stunned.

laugh?

How can you still be laughing at a time like this?

"Zhao Dahe, are you sure they've found us?" Gao Zilong asked.

"Report! He must have spotted us. He's looking up at us."

"At this altitude, it's easily visible from the ground!"

Gao Zilong remained silent for two seconds.

"What are they doing?"

Zhao Dahe's expression was somewhat strange as he said uncertainly, "They're cheering, waving their arms, and clapping. To be honest, it looks like they're welcoming us."

He felt absurd as soon as he said it, but it was the truth. He saw it, everyone saw it. The Japanese soldiers were laughing.

The channel went silent again.

Gao Zilong was completely dumbfounded.

The team members were also stunned.

Welcome us?

No, are those Japanese really that polite?

Several seconds passed before Gao Zilong's voice finally came through.

"Hmph! It's no use welcoming them!"

"Even if they kneel on the ground and beg us, it won't change their fate, let alone welcome us."

Zhao Dahe clenched his fists.

The captain is right!

It has been a full ten years since the Northeast Incident!

Ten years—how many innocent civilians have died? How many comrades and comrades have sacrificed their lives?

"That's right! Don't even mention applause to welcome them, even if they kneel down and surrender, it won't make a difference!" Zhao Dahe's voice was squeezed out through clenched teeth.

"Useless!" Unit 2 chimed in.

"It's no use!"

Unit 3, Unit 4, Unit 5, one after another.

Gao Zilong took a deep breath, suppressing the burning sensation that surged up from his chest, and his voice returned to its usual steady tone.

"Once each aircraft has locked onto its target, drop the bombs immediately! Drop the bombs immediately!"

"Received, number two."

"Received on the 3rd."

"Received on the 4th."

……

"Received on the 10th."

Gao Zilong's lead aircraft was the first to enter firing range.

Zhao Dahe's crosshairs locked the main hall of the palace.

His breathing was steady, his hands were steady, and his whole being was steady.

He looked through the telescope at the dark blue-green roof tiles, at the quiet, picturesque cluster of buildings surrounded by green trees.

He looked at the dark mass of people still cheering with their heads up.

"Report! We have entered the designated firing range and are ready to drop the bomb!"

Gao Zilong didn't speak, his finger paused on the bomb release button for a moment, and then he pressed it.

The bomb bay door opened, and a blast of cold air rushed in.

The first incendiary bomb detached from its rack, then the second, the third, the fourth...

The three H-6 bombers responsible for bombing the palace unleashed a total of 27 tons of incendiary bombs in just over ten seconds.

The projectile emitted a sharp whistling sound in the air, growing louder and sharper, as if something was tearing the sky apart.

The cheers on the ground stopped.

Thousands of smiling faces froze at the same time, thousands of eyes widened at the same time, and thousands of mouths opened at the same time.

The sharp whistling sound descended from the sky, drowning out all other sounds, drowning out "Banzai," drowning out the applause, drowning out the laughter.

"What?!"

"What is that?" someone murmured.

Isn't this a drill?

Why are they dropping bombs?

Even blank rounds can kill someone if they fall to the ground!

Immediately afterward, the Japanese soldiers on the ground panicked!

"Baka! This isn't a drill!"

"Run! Run faster!"

"Get to the air-raid shelter quickly!"

"Baka! Baka!"

The crowd erupted like an anthill that had been poked with a stick.

Thousands of people turned around at the same time, stepped forward at the same time, and collided with each other at the same time.

Some people were pushed down, got up and were pushed down again, got up again, their shoes were trampled off, and they walked barefoot on the gravel road, their soles were cut and bleeding, but they didn't care about the pain.

Some people crouched on the ground, holding their heads, curled up like a hedgehog whose tail had been stepped on, trembling all over, and shouting something that was hard to hear, sounding like they were calling for "Mom" or "Amaterasu".

Someone bumped into a utility pole, scraped their forehead, and got blood all over their face. They didn't bother to wipe it off, got up and kept running, but fell down after a couple of steps and didn't get up again this time.

Someone stood motionless, like a tree struck by lightning, mouth agape, eyes wide open, crotch wet, a hot stream running down his thighs, dripping onto the ground and staining a small dark patch.

"Why? Why are there bombs? Isn't this a drill? Aren't these Imperial planes?"

The boy in the school uniform slumped to the ground, looking up at the approaching black dots, his face covered in tears and snot.

He remembered that he had just been shouting "Banzai," clapping, and cheering for the Empire's "new weapons." His stomach churned, and he squatted down and dry heaved.

The banner was torn off and fell to the ground, where it was trampled on.

The words "Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere" were covered in footprints, filthy, like a rag that had been trampled on.

The banner that read "The Holy War is Over" was blown by the wind and got tangled on the telephone pole, looking like a white silk ribbon hanging from a bow.

"One Hundred Million Hearts" was torn in two; one half was trampled underfoot, and the other half floated into the gutter.

. . .

heaven.

Zhao Dahe's lips slowly curled up.

He looked through his binoculars at the exploding crowd, at the Japanese soldiers who had just been clapping, cheering, and laughing, now running, shouting, and crawling around like a swarm of headless flies. His lips curled up higher and higher until he finally burst out laughing.

"That's more like it."

"With all the clapping and cheering just now, I didn't know if I was here for revenge or for an air show."

He paused, looking at the banner that had been trampled and overturned on the ground through the binoculars, and at the few dirty words on it, the corners of his mouth curved up even wider.

"Smile! Why aren't you smiling? Are you just naturally averse to smiling?"

. . .

On the ground, the Japanese soldiers could no longer laugh.

They never dreamed that one day a shell would fall on their own heads.

And it was an incendiary bomb!

A full ninety tons of incendiary bombs!

"boom--!!!"

The first incendiary bomb exploded in the Royal Palace Square.

A bright orange fireball, over thirty meters in diameter, shot into the air, its temperature exceeding a thousand degrees Celsius, instantly engulfing everything around it.

The wooden lampposts instantly carbonized, the asphalt road surface sizzled and bubbled from the heat, and even the air seemed to be ignited, distorting into a blurry halo.

The splattering napalm sprayed in all directions like a rain of fire; it burned when it touched clothing and penetrated the skin when it touched it.

The crowd that was cheering just moments ago instantly turned into a sea of ​​fire.

"ah--!!!"

A heart-wrenching scream ripped through the sky.

A Japanese soldier in military uniform was hit in the chest by a large chunk of napalm, and flames instantly engulfed his upper body.

He frantically pounded his chest, but the more he pounded, the bigger the fire grew. The flames spread from his arms to his face, instantly burning off his hair and eyebrows, revealing charred skin.

He threw down his rifle and rolled frantically on the ground, but wherever he rolled, the fire spread.

Finally, he stood upright, like a burning torch, let out a final, piercing scream, and then fell straight down, burning into a pile of charred remains.

A woman in a kimono, her skirt ignited by sparks.

She screamed and ran, flames climbing up her skirt and quickly engulfing her entire body.

As she ran, her foot slipped, and she fell to the ground, rolling around and howling. Her voice grew softer and softer until it turned into a faint sob.

What's truly disheartening is that the fire is impossible to extinguish...