One man's resistance against Japan, I mobilized a million people to aid Shanghai.

The south bank of Yunzaobang was filled with an overwhelming stench of blood. In the darkness before dawn, the gunfire finally ceased.

Zhu Yong leaned on a captured Type 38 rifle, his chest heaving violently. Looking around, he saw that of the thousand elite detachments who had participated in the assault on the command post, fewer than four hundred were still standing, and all of them were wounded.

This battle, involving a raid of dozens of miles, when the troops were exhausted, out of ammunition and food, resulted in the complete annihilation of an entire Japanese brigade, which was absolutely a military miracle.

However, the price of this miracle was heavy; less than five thousand of Zhu Yong's clones are still alive.

Zhu Yong had no time to reminisce; he ordered Zhou Weiguo and the others to immediately clean up the battlefield and prepare for the next wave of Japanese attacks.

Yunzaobang is a large river, and Zhu Yong plans to use it to block the Japanese troops in Luodian. If used properly, holding out for three days is not a problem at all.

Twenty minutes later, Zhou Weiguo returned.

"Commander, a major discovery! We found this in the wreckage of Takamori Takashi's command tent."

Zhou Weiguo looked very excited, holding a telegram that was half burned in his hand.

Zhu Yong took the telegram and quickly scanned it.

Most of the text consists of routine combat orders and troop movement records, but the last few lines surprisingly contain detailed diagrams of logistics and supplies configuration.

The map clearly shows that, in order to pursue a rapid march, the Japanese 9th Brigade's massive logistics supply column did not advance with the combat troops, but instead remained north of Yunzaobang.

What excited Zhu Yong even more was that the force guarding this batch of supplies was only one battalion, about a thousand men.

"Hahaha, heaven is on my side!"

Zhu Yong was overjoyed, his heart pounding wildly.

This was like a godsend; what he needed most right now was ammunition and supplies!

With these supplies, his remaining troops were finally able to regain their fighting strength.

Zhu Yong immediately looked north, where the sky was beginning to lighten, and the morning star twinkled lonely in the fading night sky.

Before dawn, an extremely audacious plan suddenly popped into Zhu Yong's mind.

"Commander Zhou!"

"arrive!"

"Immediately collect Japanese military uniforms, helmets, and leather shoes, especially the insignia of officers and sergeants. Select one thousand brothers and have them immediately change into Japanese uniforms."

Zhu Yong roared:

"You have twenty minutes. We'll leave immediately after that!"

"Commander, are you... planning a sneak attack?" Zhou Weiguo immediately understood Zhu Yong's intention.

"That's right, put on their skins and steal all of this supply."

A sharp glint flashed in Zhu Yong's eyes.

"The news of the Japanese defeat has probably already spread with the fleeing soldiers, but they need time to withdraw. We need to use this time to catch them off guard."

"But we don't know the password..."

"We can't worry about that now."

Zhu Yong said resolutely, "It's the early hours of the morning now, when people are most tired and their vigilance is relatively low."

"By disguising ourselves as defeated remnants from the front lines, we can lower their guard."

"I'll lead the team myself. The rest of the brothers are in your hands. Quickly clean up the battlefield and then follow up with heavy weapons."

"We need to hear gunfire inside before launching a full-scale assault to provide support."

"Commander, let me go. I can speak Japanese too, I..." Zhou Weiguo wanted to volunteer, but Zhu Yong interrupted him.

"Stop talking nonsense, stop being so fussy and girly, just do as I say!"

"yes!"

Zhou Weiguo and his clones immediately sprang into action.

They quickly stripped the still relatively intact uniforms and equipment from the Japanese soldiers' corpses.

Soon, a force of about a thousand defeated Japanese soldiers was assembled.

They wore blood-stained khaki uniforms, helmets riddled with bullet holes or dented, and carried Type 38 rifles. The ranks were loose, their steps unsteady, and their faces were deliberately smeared with black ash and dried blood.

Zhu Yong himself changed into a set of the uniform of a fallen Japanese colonel, put on the corresponding rank, and even found some bandages to symbolically wrap around his arms and head.

"Remember!" Zhu Yong gave his final address to the assembled rout soldiers in fluent Japanese.

"We are now soldiers of the 9th Brigade of the 3rd Division of the Imperial Japanese Army. We were ambushed by the main force of the Chinese army at Yunzaobang and fought our way out in a bloody battle."

"I am Colonel Takeshita Isamu, the regimental commander. No one is allowed to speak without my orders! Follow my gestures and signals!"

"Do you understand?"

"Hai!" the thousand clones responded in a low voice in Japanese.

The troops quickly set off, retreating along the main road towards the north bank of Yunzaobang.

Zhu Yong walked at the front of the group, his face "heavy," and he kept looking back "anxiously," as if there were pursuers behind him.

As the sky grew brighter, the scenery along the road became clearer.

They encountered several scattered groups of defeated Japanese soldiers. These soldiers were disoriented and saw Zhu Yong's relatively well-organized unit as their savior.

The defeated soldiers rushed to join, and Zhu Yong smiled slightly, letting them form their own squads, choose their own squad leaders, and then let them lead the way.

After marching for more than an hour, as dawn broke, a camp finally appeared ahead.

Supplies were piled up everywhere in the camp, with boxes of all sizes making the whole camp seem a bit crowded.

However, what Zhu Yong saw inside the camp made his heart tighten.

Some logistics soldiers were hurriedly packing up supplies, while the Japanese soldiers were actually preparing to move.

Clearly, news of the disastrous defeat at the front had already reached here.

Zhu Yong had a bad feeling.

If these supplies are transferred or destroyed, his entire plan will fall apart.

"Hayaku!!"

Zhu Yong immediately began to urge him on anxiously.

Zhu Yong arrived at the camp in less than ten minutes.

At the camp entrance, behind the sandbag fortifications, the Japanese sentries on guard were clearly on high alert. They saw the "rout" approaching from afar and immediately raised their guns.

"Halt! Which department are you from?!"

Zhu Yong took a deep breath, stepped forward, and slapped the sentry hard across the face.

"Baka yarou!"

"I am Major Takeshita Isamu, Commander of the 129th Regiment, 9th Brigade!"

"We were ambushed by the main force of the Chinese army at Yunzaobang and only managed to break through after a bloody battle! Open the door quickly!"

"We need food, water, and ammunition!"

His tone carried the arrogance typical of senior officers towards logistics units. The sentry, having been slapped hard, saw the rank insignia on Zhu Yong's shoulder and didn't dare utter a sound.

Just as he was about to open the door for Zhu Yong, a rude voice suddenly rang out.

"Damairo!"

Colonel Matsushita, the logistics garrison commander, walked out of the camp and looked at Zhu Yong with a wary expression.

"Password!!"