The battlefield was filled with scarlet blood, fog and smoke, which made people choke. The bloody dead bodies poured down the battlefield like a mess, and the ground meat was splashed everywhere. The dying Japanese soldiers groaned in pain in a pool of blood, screaming at the Chinese soldiers, not asking for help, and dying quickly. Some wounded soldiers were shaking and pulled the trigger at their heads. The high-speed flying bomb cut off their motor nerve reflex center and smashed their brain tissue, which made them fall into eternal darkness for five seconds and freed them from the general pain of tearing. So the crisp guns kept ringing in the bloody battlefield. Some were wounded soldiers who shot themselves, some were Chinese soldiers who tried to pretend to be dead, and some were Japanese soldiers who fired at Chinese soldiers. As a result, there was a hail of bullets. Not only were they and the surrounding bodies and wounded soldiers beaten to pieces, but the three infantry were systematically cleaning up all traces of life on the battlefield, and they were very patient. Which body was still intact or twitched, and they were bound to blow their heads off with one shot.
The chief of staff turned pale and looked at the plasma flowing from the hillside to his feet. He felt sick in his chest and couldn’t breathe well. If he stayed here, he would definitely suffocate. Hell, there have been no fewer battles in these years, but he has never tried to fight so badly. […]