Ghost Army

Unlike the bustling and brightly lit Shanghai, the Japanese command center was eerily quiet. Under the dim streetlights, patrols of Japanese devils moved back and forth, isolating the area from the outside world.

Zhang Xuan didn't alert anyone; it wasn't time to kill devils yet. Using the darkness, Zhang Xuan silently teleported into the command center and then crept towards the center of the building, a spacious hall where the most activity was happening. From afar, he could hear the Japanese shouting and yelling.

Sticking close to the wall, Zhang Xuan approached the window and cautiously peered into the hall.

"Hata Shunroku!" At first glance, Zhang Xuan recognized the middle-aged man in military uniform, his target for this mission.

After confirming Hata Shunroku was inside, Zhang Xuan began to carefully observe the environment of the hall.

Seventeen Japanese devils were gathered around a map, seemingly studying an operational plan. On the other side, five young secretarial staff were writing furiously, likely taking notes. Besides them, only two sentries stood guard at the entrance.

There were quite a few people. With Zhang Xuan's teleportation speed, he could take down a maximum of eight before alerting anyone else.

"Let's use a bomb!" Zhang Xuan put the dagger he had taken out back into his waist and then teleported away. Moments later, he reappeared, holding a high explosive bomb.

Zhang Xuan had gotten this from Strucker. He had witnessed the destructive power of this thing when he was eliminating Hydra before; one was enough to level this entire hall.

Glancing at the hall again, Zhang Xuan quietly placed the high explosive bomb in a corner and instantly teleported away after detonation.

A deafening roar echoed, seemingly shaking all of Shanghai. Standing outside the Japanese command center, Zhang Xuan watched the smoke rising from the building and the shouts erupting, a smug smile flashing across his face.

Taking advantage of the smoke and dust, Zhang Xuan returned to the hall. The hall had completely vanished, replaced by ruins with scattered limbs and broken bodies.

Soon, Zhang Xuan found Hata Shunroku's corpse. With a soft hum, he placed a pre-prepared note on Hata Shunroku's chest and then disappeared.

The next day, the news of the Japanese command center being infiltrated by a mysterious person appeared on the front pages of major newspapers. The note Zhang Xuan had placed on Hata Shunroku's corpse was also exposed: "Those who speak of massacre again will be killed!"

This declaration spread like wildfire across the land, invigorating everyone. The Chinese people were truly excited; their command center had been taken down, how could they not be?

The Japanese were furious, viewing it as blasphemy against the Emperor and vowing revenge.

Zhang Xuan didn't hesitate and struck again, taking down several of the most vocal devils. However, this didn't intimidate the arrogant Japanese devils; instead, it ignited their ferocity, and they once again turned their bayonets on Chinese civilians.

Zhang Xuan knew this would provoke the Japanese and had already made preparations.

That night, Zhang Xuan once again summoned his army.

After the battle in Jiangcheng, the army had rested for over half a month, and everyone was eagerly anticipating another battle like the one in Jiangcheng. Upon hearing the order to assemble, a single thought crossed everyone's mind: they could kill Japanese devils again!

"Enough talk, one word: Kill!" Unlike last time, Zhang Xuan didn't waste any words, getting straight to the point.

"Kill!" "Kill!" "Kill!"

After three shouts, Zhang Xuan raised his hand to stop the cheers. "Our target this time is Nanjing!"

The thirty thousand soldiers froze for a moment, then erupted in even louder battle cries. The Nanjing Massacre was a deep scar etched into the hearts of every Chinese person, an indelible wound. The chance to avenge it was the lifelong wish of every Chinese soldier.

That night, Nanjing was awash in blood and chaos, as if returning to the past.

In this battle, Zhang Xuan charged forward, wielding a heavy machine gun like the Grim Reaper, sweeping away all the devils. Caught up in the fervor, Zhang Xuan eventually dropped the heavy machine gun and used his dagger to take down devils one by one. Zhang Xuan savored the feeling of the dagger slicing through a devil's neck, watching the fear of death on their faces. It brought him immense satisfaction, like drinking a can of ice water on a sweltering summer day.

After clearing out all the Japanese devils in Nanjing, Zhang Xuan, as usual, left a message written with the corpses of Japanese devils: "For every civilian killed, ten soldiers will pay with their lives!"

Having completed his task, Zhang Xuan and his army vanished instantly, truly appearing and disappearing without a trace.

This time, the Japanese learned their lesson. Regardless of how the media reported it, they remained silent, as if they had become mute.

While all of China was excited about this battle, Japan and the National Government launched investigations to find out who was responsible for this act. To this end, Japan's Tokkō and the National Government's Military Statistics Bureau mobilized all their resources. Unfortunately, after more than a month of searching, they found nothing. Nanjing was deep within occupied territory, surrounded by Japanese forces, making it impossible for Chinese troops to appear.

When this news was released, some enterprising Chinese people began spreading rumors that it was the Chinese soldiers who died in Nanjing returning for revenge. These absurd rumors gained widespread acceptance, and the "Nanjing Yin Army" became a topic of conversation.

One operation did not curb the arrogance of the Japanese devils; the indiscriminate killing of civilians still occurred frequently.

Gathering his army once more, Zhang Xuan swept through several more Japanese bases, eliminating one hundred thousand Japanese soldiers in a flash. After clearing each base, Zhang Xuan would leave a message: "For every civilian killed, ten soldiers will pay with their lives!"

After several such operations, although many Japanese generals were enraged, the ordinary Japanese soldiers no longer dared to arbitrarily kill Chinese civilians.

Just as before, they appeared and disappeared without a trace, like ghosts haunting the night. No matter how the Japanese investigated, they could not find any information about this army. The name "Nanjing Yin Army" was thus firmly established, and even the Japanese were forced to give this mysterious unit a codename: "Ghost Army."

In a secluded mansion in Shancheng.

"Two months, and you still haven't found anything?" The luxuriously dressed young man could not contain his anger, raising his hand and slapping the balding middle-aged man beside him. "What use are you if you can't even do this? You might as well die!"

The middle-aged man trembled as he knelt on the ground, his voice quivering. "Rep... reporting, young master, they might truly be the Nanjing Yin Army, returning for revenge by killing Japanese devils."

"What Nanjing Yin Army? It's all a charade!" The young man scoffed coldly and said, "You have one more week. If you still have no information by then, you can go die!"

At the same time, in the new Japanese command headquarters, a tall young man wearing a sun god mask walked in, his exposed eyes gleaming with arrogance.

"Welcome, Mr. Yoshida Shiro!" The newly appointed Commander-in-Chief of the China Dispatch Army, Okamura Yasuji, wearing a ridiculous pair of glasses, greeted him with a fawning smile.

Yoshida Shiro, still wearing the mask, cast a sidelong glance at Okamura Yasuji, saying nothing.

Okamura Yasuji, undeterred, continued with a smile, "Regarding the Ghost Army matter..."

Before Okamura Yasuji could finish, orange-red flames suddenly erupted from Yoshida Shiro, soaring into the sky. A voice could faintly be heard, filled with extreme confidence: "Leave this to me!"