On the eve of the fall of Liaodong, he led his troops in a remonstrance against the young marshal.

Matsui Iwane's hand, which had been pulling back the curtains, froze in mid-air.

The view outside the window was something he had never seen before in his life.

The northern defensive line of the Japanese concession in Hongkou, a line constructed of sandbags, barbed wire, and concrete machine gun emplacements, which was impregnable just an hour ago, has now become a burning ruin.

The barbed wire was torn apart, the sandbags were blown apart by the shells, and sand flowed all over the ground, mixed with dark red blood, and solidified into a layer of sticky mud on the road.

The Rising Sun Flag hanging in the center of the defensive line had been half burned off, with the remaining half hanging on the flagpole like a discarded rag.

Soldiers of the 19th Route Army stepped over the charred Rising Sun Flag and surged into the concession like a tide.

Their uniforms were covered in mud and blood, their faces blackened by gunpowder smoke, but their bayonets gleamed coldly in the setting sun, a light that stung Matsui Iwane's eyes.

Matsui Iwane's fingers gripped the curtain fabric tightly.

His lips trembled, and a series of indistinct syllables came from his throat.

They came in.

They actually dared to storm into the foreign concession.

This is a very frightening fact.

If the 19th Route Army stopped at the border of the concession, it meant that they still had concerns and were not yet prepared to fight to the death with our side.

But now they're ignoring the boundaries of the concession and charging in with bayonets. What does that mean?

This shows that they have made up their minds to kill them!

What kind of bullshit concession law is this? They completely ignore it. The Japanese concession is doomed.

"Commander!"

The adjutant rushed in, his face covered in cold sweat, his voice shrill, "The 19th Route Army has broken through the North Sichuan Road defense line and is advancing towards headquarters!"

"Less than a kilometer to headquarters!"

Matsui Iwane suddenly turned around, grabbed his adjutant by the collar, and spat all over his face:

"Where's Kawashima? Where is Kawashima?!"

"Major Kawashima...Major Kawashima's military police were defeated on Baoxing Road and have lost contact!"

Matsui released his grip, staggered back two steps, and bumped his back against the wall.

The map on the wall fell down with a crash, the scroll hitting the floor.

He looked down at the map, and right before his eyes, the defense line of North Sichuan Road had been torn open.

More and more red crosses appeared, spreading like a plague from the edge of the map towards the center, and the core location pointed to by all the red arrows was the building he was standing in now.

Headquarters of the Japanese Concession Marine Corps in Hongkou District.

"Send a telegram!"

Matsui Iwane practically roared those two words, veins bulging on his neck, "Send a telegram to headquarters immediately!"

"Operation Tojo has failed! The 19th Route Army has stormed into the Japanese concession! The headquarters is surrounded!"

"Requesting urgent tactical guidance! Requesting urgent tactical guidance!"

Requesting tactical guidance was the most humiliating telegram wording used by the Japanese army, meaning that the battlefield commander had lost control of the situation and needed higher-level military intervention.

Matsui Iwane had fought for twenty years and had never sent such a telegram before.

But now he doesn't care about saving face anymore.

Another loud bang came from outside the window, closer than any of the previous explosions.

The sandbag fortifications below the headquarters were directly hit by a mortar shell, and three Japanese soldiers were blown away. One of them crashed into the outer wall of a second-floor window and then bounced down, leaving a shocking bloodstain on the window glass.

Matsui Iwane watched as the bloodstain slowly trickled down the glass, his face as white as a sheet of paper.

"Hold on! Concentrate all our forces to defend the cotton mill and headquarters. If we hold on, reinforcements will arrive soon!"

...........

Bhikkhu Kingdom, Little City, Main Camp.

The atmosphere in the Imperial Conference Room was completely different from that on the battlefield of Tojo Castle.

There was no smoke of gunpowder, no bloodshed, only the hissing sound of the radiators and the unhurried ticking of the wall clock.

The twelve ministers stood on either side, each with a cup of tea that had gone cold in front of them, but none of them had the heart to touch it.

They were waiting for Matsui Iwane's good news.

The king sat on his throne, his eyes closed, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrests.

He was in a good mood.

This morning, he personally issued the order for Operation Tojo, mobilizing the aircraft carrier Notoro, two destroyers, and the air force from Hongkou Airport.

With the addition of Matsui Iwane's 2,600 marines, they should have been able to crush the poorly equipped 19th Route Army, which lacked air cover, in one fell swoop.

According to the battle plan, Tojo should already be under the control of the empire.

Once we occupy Hucheng, we can take the opportunity to force the Chinese government to put the Chairman in power and restart treaty negotiations.

The 65 million indemnity can be increased further, since the Empire's appetite can no longer be satisfied by a mere 65 million.

Sudden--

The door was pushed open.

The communications officer stood at the door, clutching a telegram in his hand, his face as if his parents had died.

The king opened his eyes, glanced at him, and asked, "Is it Matsui's report of victory?"

The communications officer opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

He lowered his head, held the telegram above his head with both hands, and bent over, not daring to look at the king.

Prince Gongzai frowned, walked over, took the telegram from the communications officer, and glanced at it.

Then his face turned deathly pale.

"read."

The king's voice turned cold.

Prince Gongzai took a deep breath and began to read:

"Imperial Headquarters Report: The Battle of Tojo has suffered a major setback."

"The Northeast Army Air Force was sent to aid Toshiro. The Notoro was bombed and sunk by enemy aircraft. One of the two destroyers sank and the other ran aground. Hongkou Airport was destroyed by air attack. All air force forces were lost."

"The army's attacking forces in Zhabei encountered fierce resistance from the 19th Route Army and strafing by enemy aircraft, suffering more than half casualties and retreating to the Japanese concession."

"At this moment, the 19th Route Army has stormed into the concession with its armed forces. The headquarters is surrounded, and the defense line is falling one after another."

"The department is unable to control the situation and requests urgent tactical guidance."

After the telegram was read, the meeting room fell silent.

"Baka! How is this possible?"

"How could the Battle of Tojo have failed?"

Nanjiro was the first to react, his voice filled with disbelief, "Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"

"Matsui has 2,600 marines, 16 tanks and armored vehicles, the Notoro air wing, and fighter jets at Hongkou Airport."

"The 19th Route Army only had rifles and machine guns, not even a decent anti-aircraft gun! How could they possibly lose?!"

"It's the Northeast Army."

Navy Minister Osami Nagano slowly began, "The telegram says that Northeast Army planes have appeared over Tojo."

"Matsui's planes were all shot down, and the Notoro was also sunk by the Northeast Army."

"The Northeast Army? The Northeast Army again?"

Nanjiro whirled around, his face contorted as if he'd been slapped in the face in public. "They're in Lushun! Lushun is over a thousand kilometers from Hucheng!"

"How could their planes possibly fly over here?!"

Everyone looked grim.

Outside Lushun Port, the wreckage of the Akagi is still soaking in the sea, and now the Notoro has followed in its footsteps.

That steel lion from the Northeast has become a shared nightmare for the Imperial Navy and Air Force.

"It's Zhang Xueming again."

The king gritted his teeth, radiating murderous intent, and said, word by word:

"In the Northeast, he swallowed up my Kwantung Army. In the Three Hans, he seized my peninsula."

"Now in Hucheng, he has sunk my warship and slaughtered my marines."

"Wherever the empire goes, his hand follows!"

"Baka yarou! Does he think I really can't do anything about him??"

He stood up abruptly, his military boots clattering on the floor, and walked to the huge map of East Asia on the wall.

"Nanjiro."

The king did not turn around. "You said before that once we take Hu City, the empire will be in a position to make demands at the negotiating table."

"Now we haven't captured Hucheng, and the Empire's warships and soldiers have all been lost there."

"Tell me, what should I do?"

Nanjiro stepped forward and stood respectfully with his hands at his sides.

He was silent for a moment, then spoke:

"Your Majesty, precisely for this reason, the Empire should continue its offensive."

All eyes were on him.

"Gentlemen, think about this."

Nanjiro walked to the map and pointed to the Northeast and East China regions with his finger. "The Empire just suffered a major defeat in the Northeast. The Kwantung Army was completely wiped out, and the Manchurian Railway and all its assets were confiscated."

"What would happen if the Empire suffered another crushing defeat at Hucheng?"

Someone in the conference room gasped softly.

Nanjiro was telling the truth.

The reason why the empire was able to run rampant in China for so many years was because the Chinese people feared the empire.

Not only were the Chinese people afraid, but the warlords were even more afraid. They dared not oppose the empire, which is why the empire continued to seize profits in China.

The Chinese people fear the empire's warships, its airplanes, and its bayonets.

This fear is the foundation of all the privileges and interests of the empire on the Chinese mainland.

But if the empire suffers consecutive defeats on both the Northeast and East China fronts, this fear will melt away as quickly as snow under the sun.

At that time, the Chinese people will discover that the empire is not invincible, that their warships can sink, their planes can be bombed, and that people can die.

Once this lid is lifted, all the foundations of the empire in China will be shaken, all spheres of influence will be loosened, and all concessions and strongholds will become isolated islands, swallowed up by the raging tide of the Chinese people.

"The foundation of the empire in China was built through forty years of bloodshed."

"Lushun, Fengtian, Sanhan, Hucheng, every inch of this land is buried with the bones of the empire's soldiers."

"If we lose again in Hucheng, the Chinese will think that we are nothing special after all."

"By then, the wave of resistance will spread from the Northeast to North China, and from North China to the South China Plain. All the concessions, all the troops, and all the privileges of the Empire on the Chinese mainland will be wiped out."

He turned to the king and said, word by word:

"The empire has no way out!"

"Therefore, the Empire must not only fight the battle of Hucheng, but also win it."

"We must win, no matter the cost."

Everyone fell silent, then slowly nodded.

But at that moment, a figure suddenly stood up and started cursing at Nanjiro.

"You're talking nonsense!"