Chapter Two: Nanjing, Gate of China!

"Captain, thank goodness you finally woke up! You gave me quite a scare just now!"

A voice pulled Chen Qingzhi back from his drifting thoughts, and he turned toward the speaker.

Seeing Chen Qingzhi awake, the man wiped the sweat from his forehead, a look of relief crossing his face. "Damn it, just now one of those bastards dropped an artillery shell right next to you. The blast knocked you out cold—I thought that was it, that you'd be gone for good! Scared the life out of me."

"Now that you're all right, that's a blessing indeed," he added, still visibly shaken by the memory.

As Chen Qingzhi looked at the man, a memory surfaced in his mind, and he immediately knew who stood before him.

"Tiger!"

"I'm fine," Chen Qingzhi replied with a smile, then crawled up to the edge of the trench, gazing out at the battlefield not far in the distance. "What's the situation now?"

"The bastards just got pushed back, but now they're coming again," Tiger said, loading bullets into his rifle as he spoke. "Looks like they're ready to die for this—wave after wave, not giving us a moment to breathe!"

"Our capital is right behind us. The bastards are desperate; they won't stop now," Chen Qingzhi sneered. "Tell the men to fight with everything they've got. Let the enemy taste our fury!"

"Yes, sir!"

The soldiers had only a brief moment to rest before a piercing shout cut through the battlefield: "The enemy is coming!"

"Prepare for battle!" At these words, Chen Qingzhi's expression hardened. He shouted the order, pressed himself against the trench wall, and peered toward the advancing Japanese troops.

With his command, every soldier readied his rifle, bullets chambered and barrels aimed at the enemy.

Chen Qingzhi's battalion held a slightly leftward, secondary position near the Zhonghua Gate. Though somewhat removed from the main line, and thus less fiercely contested, the ground they occupied was slightly elevated. This forced the Japanese to advance uphill under fire, putting them at a disadvantage while favoring Chen Qingzhi's men.

Chen Qingzhi raised his binoculars and observed the approaching enemy—roughly a company in strength.

A Japanese company was about 250 men, divided into three infantry platoons and an artillery section, providing them with formidable firepower. The assault on Zhonghua Gate was being led by the Japanese 114th Division, specifically the 115th Regiment of the 128th Brigade.

The force attacking Chen Qingzhi’s position was a single company from the 115th Regiment. The enemy soldiers advanced in dispersed formation, three to a group, crouched low, moving forward in coordinated teams.

As they drew closer, Chen Qingzhi picked up the rifle at his side—a Zhongzheng rifle, a Chinese-made copy of the German Mauser M1924.

This rifle fired 7.92mm pointed rounds, far more lethal than the Japanese Type 38 rifle. However, the bolt was stiff and its accuracy was slightly inferior to the Japanese weapon. All in all, it had its strengths and weaknesses.

As soon as the rifle was in his hands, a sense of familiarity washed over Chen Qingzhi. As the Republic’s finest special operations soldier, he was intimately familiar with firearms—even those from the Second World War.

His greatest passion was marksmanship. During an army-wide competition, his shooting skills had placed him first, the gap between him and second place was like night and day.

Now, with the enemy less than two hundred meters from their position, a cold smile flickered at the corner of Chen Qingzhi's mouth. He worked the bolt, chambered a round, and raised the rifle in a single, fluid motion.

Bang!

With a crisp report, a bullet tore from the barrel, slicing through the air and covering two hundred meters in an instant. It struck a Japanese officer squarely between the eyes, the searing projectile blowing away half his skull.

The officer's head jerked violently, his brain destroyed in a mist of blood. His body convulsed as if struck by lightning, then collapsed lifelessly to the ground—a death beyond doubt.

"Fire! Give them everything you've got!" Chen Qingzhi roared.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

At his command, every soldier opened fire at once, the thunder of rifles echoing across the battlefield.

"Come on, you bastards! I’ll send you all to hell!" Tiger's voice rang out as he sprayed fire from his Czech light machine gun at the advancing enemy.

Chen Qingzhi, too, kept shooting, every bullet claiming another enemy life.

With his deadly accuracy, the surrounding soldiers grew ever more respectful. Their battalion commander was a marksman beyond compare—a true sharpshooter.

Inspired by Chen Qingzhi’s unerring marksmanship, the troops fought back with renewed vigor.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Gunfire roared on without cease. Under the fierce counterattack of Chen Qingzhi’s battalion, the enemy company soon broke, leaving a field strewn with corpses as they retreated in haste.

...

"Finally, those bastards have pulled back!" Tiger let out a long sigh, exhaustion etched on his face as he wiped the sweat from his brow and allowed himself a moment of relief.

He gulped down a few greedy breaths of air before relaxing further.

The other soldiers felt the same. Having repelled another assault, they all breathed easier, as if surviving a disaster, and seized the chance to rest and recover their strength.

In these times, to be a soldier fighting the Japanese was to live with death always at one's side. No one could say if they'd see another sunrise, so every day was lived as though it might be the last.

With the capital at their backs, the enemy was attacking with the frenzy of madmen, launching suicidal assaults that inflicted heavy casualties on the defending troops.

And this was only a secondary position near Zhonghua Gate. Rumor had it that the main line, and especially the fierce battles near Purple Mountain, had become a meat grinder, with both sides locked in a bloody stalemate.

By comparison, their own position was under less pressure.

Chen Qingzhi took a few tense breaths, then called Tiger over. "Tiger, what's the situation now?"

Tiger, still catching his breath, replied gravely, "Not good. We pushed back this wave, but the Japanese won’t give up so easily. It won’t be long before they come at us again, even harder."

Chen Qingzhi pondered for a moment, then said, "Tiger, tally the casualties in each company. Find out how many brothers we still have left who can fight."

"Yes, sir," Tiger replied, nodding before turning to carry out the order.