The Mysterious Soldier of the Anti-Japanese War

Lei Tao nodded slightly: "Well, please act quickly and don't delay my important matters."

The arms dealer led Lei Tao through twists and turns until they reached a secluded basement. It was as dark as a haunted house, the lights flickering on and off, as if they would go out completely in the next second. Around were piles of scrap metal parts and bottles of dangerous-looking chemicals. The air was filled with an extremely pungent smell, as if someone had boiled rotten eggs and gasoline.

Lei Tao looked at the venue and curled his lips: "Your place is really 'luxurious'. I just hope your equipment is not as bad as this terrible environment."

The arms dealer smiled awkwardly. "Hey, the equipment is all over there. As long as it can be used, don't be too picky."

Lei Tao walked over to the equipment and began modifying the thermite incendiary bomb. He was like a skilled magician, but instead of wielding a magic wand and a rabbit, he was wielding an incendiary bomb capable of instantly blowing people away. He began by carefully disassembling the bomb, his expression as focused as if he were disassembling an inestimably precious gem, muttering to himself, "My dear, you've got to be good and don't let it explode in my hands. We have something important to do." The arms dealer nearby looked at him in disbelief, wondering if he was a lunatic.

Lei Tao neatly arranged the various components of the incendiary bomb on a greasy table and began to modify its internal structure. He picked up tools and tinkered with them, occasionally holding a small part up to the light to examine it carefully, like a seasoned antique appraiser. "Hmm, this little gadget needs to be adjusted, otherwise it won't be compatible with the 120mm howitzer," he muttered to himself.

The transformation process wasn't all smooth sailing. Once, Lei Tao accidentally knocked over a bottle of chemical reagent, causing it to sway and nearly spill. The arms dealer jumped up in shock, "Oh my God! Be careful! If this stuff spills, we'll all be blown up into the sky, joining the angels!" Lei Tao calmly held onto the bottle, smiling and saying, "Don't be afraid, I'm here. The angels don't welcome people like us."

After some effort, Lei Tao finally modified the thermite incendiary bomb into a version capable of being fired from a 120mm howitzer. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he gazed at his masterpiece with a satisfied smile. "Hey, little guys, you're pretty impressive now! Get ready to give the Japanese a big surprise!"

After the inspection, he nodded with satisfaction, and a look of relaxation finally appeared on his serious face. He then took out a laptop from his bag and asked the arms dealer to enter his account number. Lei Tao then made the transfer. Watching the large amount of money disappear from his account, Lei Tao couldn't help but feel a little pain in his heart. But after thinking carefully about using it to kill the Japanese devils, it was all worth it...

"The pickup truck is right behind the warehouse and is ready for you. I will also work on the surgical vehicle. Don't forget the large order you mentioned." The arms dealer grinned, revealing a mouthful of uneven yellow teeth. There was a hint of pride in that smile, as well as eager anticipation for the next transaction.

Lei Tao didn't respond, silently driving his pickup truck away from the black market. He pulled into a secluded corner, surrounded by desolate ground, only a few withered trees swaying feebly in the wind. He parked the car, turned off the engine, and got out. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and took a few deep puffs. He narrowed his eyes slightly, savoring the momentary tranquility while vigilantly observing his surroundings. After confirming that no one was around, he used his magical ability to store the pickup truck, along with the purchased weapons and equipment, into the Bagua Gyro space. Then, he activated the Bagua Gyro system again, and with a flash of light, he returned to his original time and space.

He remounted his motorcycle and sped off toward the outskirts of Shanghai. His gaze grew ever more resolute, like a burning torch. The flame of revenge burned within him, threatening to ignite the very air around him. He knew these weapons would become his powerful arsenal against the Japanese, the light of hope for revenge for his suffering compatriots.

When he arrived outside Shanghai, the familiar yet unfamiliar scene made his heart sink, as if gripped by an invisible, giant hand. He slowly stopped his motorcycle, his feet touching the ground, his eyes becoming incredibly solemn, as if he saw the gates of hell slowly opening before him. He grabbed a telescope from his bike, the telescope feeling like a thousand pounds in his hands. He raised it and peered towards the Chinese district of Shanghai, where fierce fighting had taken place just a few months prior.

The area lay in utter devastation, a scene reminiscent of the aftermath of the apocalypse. Ruins lay scattered everywhere, toppled and shattered, as if trampled and ravaged by an enraged giant. The skyscrapers that once symbolized prosperity, the bustling streets that held the dreams and memories of countless people, had now been mercilessly razed to the ground by the flames of war. Only the shattered walls stood like hideous monsters, their fangs bared, claws waving, as if crying out to the heavens the cruelty of war. Broken bricks and stones blanketed the ground like a thick layer of mourning, burying the lives of countless innocent people who once laughed, toiled, and lived on this land, now slumbering forever in the darkness beneath.

Atop this ruin, the International Red Cross workers toiled joyfully, like bright stars twinkling in the night sky. Their figures stood out against the gloomy backdrop, like brave boats on the sea, joyfully forging ahead amidst the raging winds and raging waves. Yet, they were also truly remarkable, their every movement brimming with love for life and disdain for war. They carefully lifted the bodies of the victims, their movements as gentle as if they were holding the most precious treasures in the world, their eyes filled with compassion and care. Their smiles were beaming, their eyes brimming with vitality and hope, the deep mark of having remained optimistic despite facing death and suffering for so long. Tears welled in their eyes, but they easily held them back, knowing that these victims deserved their final respect. They were the most lovable guardian spirits in this sea of ​​sorrow.

Meanwhile, Japanese Marines, like demons, screened civilians entering and leaving Shanghai. Their neat uniforms and gleaming boots stood out against the ruins, a wanton desecration of this suffering land. Their eyes were cold and ruthless, like demons from hell, devoid of any glimmer of humanity, only boundless cruelty and brutality. Every passerby shuddered under their gaze, as if trapped in an icy cellar, the chill rising from their feet to their very hearts. If they spotted calloused hands, gunshot wounds, or even a knife, they would unhesitatingly raise their rifles and mercilessly kill. The blood of innocent civilians once again stained the already devastated land red, its vibrant crimson blazing against the gray ruins like a blooming red spider lily from hell. The screams of the people and the crackle of gunfire mingled, filling the air with endless hatred for the Japanese atrocities.

Lei Tao gripped the binoculars tightly, his hand trembling with rage, the fury coursing through his veins like surging magma. His eyes burned with a fiery flame of hatred, a flame so intense it seemed to incinerate all the evil before him, purifying the land tainted by the Japanese. He vowed in his heart, a vow etched like steel deep within his soul: the Japanese soldiers would pay a heavy price for their atrocities, blood debt paid with blood. He would avenge the wronged souls of this land, rest those lost in peace, and let justice shine once again upon this land shrouded in darkness. He sheathed the binoculars with a resolute gesture, as if channeling all his sorrow and anger into a powerful force to move forward. He remounted his motorcycle, which roared again, speeding towards the Shanghai Concession. He knew there were targets he needed, such as the treasury of the Huaxia Shanghai branch of the 82nd Bank, a Japanese-owned bank. It housed over a dozen tons of gold reserves that the Japanese had looted from Huaxia's affiliated banks, but hadn't been able to relocate, as well as the vast wealth the Japanese had extorted from the people after occupying Shanghai. He wanted to reclaim all this wealth, using it to purchase more weapons and equipment, to arm himself and those who shared his ideals. This was his hope for a resurgence against the Japanese. His figure gradually faded away in the billowing dust.