You were tasked with guarding the Sihang Warehouse, and you brought out a Tiger tank?

Wherever Lin Feng went, the ground was truly scraped clean.

He didn't spare anything, good or bad, cannons or rifles, or even a few tractor trucks belonging to the Japanese artillery regiment.

It's a pity about those hundreds of military horses. Living animals can't be put into the system space, and the system infantry can't ride horses, so we can only reluctantly kill them and put them into the system space to eat.

Soon, the once crowded artillery position became cleaner than a washed face, leaving only a pile of Japanese corpses and shell craters.

"Retreat! Retreat! The wind's getting strong, let's get out of here!"

Lin Feng glanced at his watch, his heart pounding.

He knew very well that they were now deep in enemy territory, causing trouble inside Japanese lines. The main force of the 3rd Division might already have realized what was happening.

If these crazy Japanese devils multiply and carry out human assaults with explosives, even the toughest Tiger tanks won't be able to withstand them.

Then Lin Feng went to the Tiger tank that was parked next to it.

The commander leaned halfway out from under the hatch: "Report, our gearbox has malfunctioned."

Good news: the Tiger E tank's wide tracks proved that it could conduct short-distance maneuver operations on the muddy coastal land of Shanghai without getting stuck.

The bad news was that the terrain was too muddy, and the Tiger kept stopping briefly to fire, then moving forward or backward, and sure enough, the gearbox overheated.

Lin Feng was mentally prepared; he only had one Tiger tank, which he treated as a mobile, armored 88mm gun turret.

"It's broken, so be it. We'll get it fixed when we get back. You guys get in the car first!"

After the 213 crew left, Lin Feng raised his hand and put the Tiger back into the system space.

"The entire army is retreating. We'll take a slightly longer route back to the North Station, following the pre-arranged plan."

------

The next morning, the first rays of sunlight pierced through the clouds.

The headquarters of the Japanese 3th Division.

Lieutenant General Fujita Susumu was woken up by his adjutant from his cot.

"What?! My artillery regiment... is gone?!"

Fujita Susumu stared with bloodshot eyes, feeling as if he were listening to a fairy tale.

"Yes, Division Commander."

The messenger didn't dare raise his head: "Last night, we were ambushed by elite Chinese armored forces. The 3rd Field Artillery Regiment was routed, suffering hundreds of casualties. The defending company was completely wiped out, and the artillery regiment commander, Colonel Ono...died. All the artillery...was lost."

"Baka!"

Fujita then stood up and kicked the messenger to the ground.

"This doesn't make sense, does it? Is the enemy attacking that fast?"

He felt a burning pain in his cheeks.

Last night, he was still talking loudly in front of that group of reporters, boasting that the enemy's night raid would definitely fail, and how his heavy artillery group would unleash its power the next morning and raze the North Station to the ground.

The results of it?

Daylight broke, and the cannons were gone.

That was a resounding slap in the face.

"This newly appointed Chinese commander... is quite strong."

Fujita Susumu gritted his teeth, a hint of fear flashing in his eyes:

"And this unit that launched the night raid, equipped with a large number of tanks, moved so quickly... Could it be the secret tank regiment of the Central Army's Training Corps? Si Guoyi..."

On the other side, at the 68th Regiment's base.

Although the 3rd Battalion was scattered by the armored assault last night, it was still dark, and most of the Japanese soldiers took advantage of the chaos to escape into the surrounding fields and villages.

As dawn broke, the remaining soldiers gradually regrouped at the sound of the officer's whistle.

The loss of personnel wasn't crippling, but—

How embarrassing!

That's so embarrassing.

As a frontline unit, they actually allowed enemy tanks to pass right under their noses, wiping out the division's most important artillery regiment.

This is a failure that even seppuku cannot erase.

In a dilapidated house.

Military uniforms were scattered on the ground.

Colonel Takamori Takashi, commander of the 68th Regiment, was shirtless and kneeling on the ground with a samurai sword and a white towel in front of him.

"I am sorry to His Majesty the Emperor, and I am sorry to the Division Commander."

With tears streaming down his face, Takamori Takashi picked up a towel with trembling hands, gripped the blade of the katana through the towel, and pointed the tip at his abdomen.

"Gentlemen, witness my ceremony of atonement. Drink!"

He knew very well that someone had to be held responsible for such a serious incident, and that it was better to commit seppuku than to be dragged back to a military court.

Around him was a group of officers from the 68th Regiment, heads bowed, watching him, lost in thought.

In short, Colonel Takamori Takashi took full responsibility for all of this.

After mentally preparing himself for a while, Takamori Takashi finally let out a low growl and thrust in hard.

"hiss--"

The blade pierced the flesh.

Takamori Takashi's face instantly contorted into a bun-like shape.

It hurts so much.

It really hurts so much.

The pain made his eyes appear smaller than they were, and he felt like he was grinding his teeth to powder.

He regretted it, he really regretted it.

Why choose this way to die? Wouldn't it have been better to just shoot yourself?

The excruciating pain of his intestines being churned almost made him faint, but the dignity of Bushido prevented him from screaming. He could only make strange "hoho" sounds and turn his head to look for help at the adjutant standing behind him.

Lieutenant Major Tanaka also looked grief-stricken, but he knew this was his superior's last act of dignity.

"Colonel, please rest in peace!"

Takamori Takashi was in so much pain that he couldn't speak, his face covered in snot and tears, and he just wanted to be free soon.

"Whoosh!"

The samurai sword swung down.

-----

10:00 AM.

Fujita Susumu personally led his staff to the destroyed artillery position.

The scene at the scene made him gasp.

Everywhere there were traces of tank tracks, bullet holes left by large-caliber autocannons, and marks from small-caliber cannon fire.

"This is a mechanized unit, absolutely the most elite mechanized unit in China."

Fujita Susumu crouched down, touched a wide track mark on the ground, and looked serious.

"But... this is the strangest thing."

A staff officer pointed to the empty gun emplacement, looking like he'd seen a ghost:

"Division Commander, all the artillery is gone."

"Gone? Was it destroyed by the enemy?"

"No, it has disappeared."

The staff officer pointed to the ground:

"No wreckage was destroyed."

Moreover, a 105mm howitzer requires a heavy tractor or 8-12 horses to pull it.

Last night, the enemy attacked and withdrew quickly, and the battle lasted less than half an hour from start to finish.

How did they manage to move dozens of heavy artillery pieces along with their ammunition boxes in such a short time?

Furthermore, there were no signs of heavy objects being dragged on the ground.

"this……"

Looking at the empty position, Fujita Susumu felt a chill run down his spine.

Just vanished into thin air?

That doesn't make sense.

Do the Chinese really possess sorcery?

"Strange...this is really strange..."

He, as a soldier, couldn't handle this kind of thing.

Should we look for Abe no Yasuaki? Or Tamamo-no-Mae?

Fujita Susumu muttered to himself, and in the end could only wave his hand:

"Never mind that for now, report to the Expeditionary Army Headquarters immediately. Say... we were attacked by a mysterious Chinese force, and it's suspected that they possess extremely advanced logistical recovery technology."

On a high ground not far away.

Hans-Germain war correspondent Wolfgang was frantically taking pictures of the wide tread mark with his camera.

As a professional military journalist, he has a very keen sense of smell.

"My God, the width of these tracks... this is definitely not a light tank, it's more likely an extremely heavy armored vehicle."

Wolfgang took notes while quickly writing in his notebook:

"...The Great Xia army demonstrated a completely new tactical concept. Instead of dispersing tanks to support the infantry, they concentrated their armored forces to launch short and fierce attacks at the junctions of the Japanese army's defensive lines, penetrating directly into key rear nodes."

"Unlike those Gallic and John people in the concessions who merely watch this war as a spectacle, we must seriously study this war taking place in the Far East. This mysterious Bactrian army may hold the key to future wars..."

He closed the notebook, his gray eyes gleaming with excitement.

He believed that once the report was sent back to Berlin, it would definitely cause a stir within the High Command.