Dong Yaoting snapped ramrod straight. "Sir! We're conscripts of the 153rd Brigade, 51st Division, 74th Army! Enlisted at Wuhan!" His voice cut through artillery rumble. "Captain Zhou led us toward Dean—ambushed by Japs at Madang! Only we three survived!"

　　The major’s eyes narrowed—the 53rd Division HQ had received that 51st Division alert.

　　"How’d you reach Pengze?"

　　"Stumbled here while evading Jap scouts," Dong Yaoting pressed. "Reported to a major at this office. He dismissed us back to our unit—then hell broke loose! Unarmed, we scavenged weapons from ruins!"

　　His account was ironclad. The major demanded: "Name?"

　　"Dong Yaoting! This is Dong San-shao! Zhang Facai! All 153rd Brigade, 305th Regiment!"

　　"War’s at our gates," the major clipped. "Forget your unit—defend Pengze with the 53rd!" He wheeled toward the basement: "Seize those weapons! Now!"

　　

　　Major Zhou Ziyu—commander of the 53rd Division’s elite Special Agent Regiment—had arrived to secure the arsenal. His men extracted:

　　200 Type Zhongzheng rifles

　　3 Type 31 mortars

　　10 Czech ZB-26 LMGs

　　3,000 ammunition rounds

　　Zhou’s troops hauled the cache toward Division HQ. Dong’s trio trailed silently.

　　

　　Zhou Qiduo stood at a farmhouse window in Pengze’s northeast, binoculars fixed on approaching Jap columns. Zhou Ziyu saluted: "Arsenal secured, Commander!"

　　The square-jawed general didn’t turn. "Distribute to your regiment. Then deploy flanking ambushes—Japs assault within hours!"

　　Zhou Ziyu hesitated. "Sir—these are your last reserves. Your personal guard—"

　　Zhou Qiduo’s voice turned razor-sharp. "Damn it! 16th Division’s counterattacking from their rear! Hold Pengze or die trying! Move!"

　　As Zhou Ziyu turned to leave, he jabbed a finger at Dong’s group: "You three! 1st Battalion, 2nd Company! Draw gear; prepare combat!"

　　Dong Yaoting stepped forward. "Major! We serve the 74th—elite forces! Not some rag-tag—"

　　Zhou Ziyu’s boot slammed into his ribs. "Go fuck your mother! Think I want your sorry asses? Get the hell out!"

　　Dong San-shao grinned openly. Escape!

　　Dong Yaoting rose, bleeding but defiant: "Then arm us! We’ll fight Japs anyway!"

　　Zhou Ziyu barked: "The private stays! You two maggots—scram!" He wheeled to his guard. "Arm this man! If he deserts—execute him on the spot!"

　　Dong Yaoting stared bitterly at the commander’s retreating back, silenced. Five minutes later, the guard handed Zhang Facai:

　　✅ One Hanyang Type 88 rifle

　　✅ Canvas ammunition bandolier

　　✅ One polished bayonet

　　Zhang Facai smirked at Dong Yaoting and Dong San-shao. "Fetch Master Zhang’s spears! Since they won’t arm you—what else can you fight with?"

　　Dong Yaoting turned abruptly without a word, fists clenched. "Fucking pig-headed officers!" he cursed under his breath.

　　Dong San-shao followed silently.

　　"Cat got your tongue?" Dong Yaoting snapped over his shoulder.

　　San-shao grinned. "Young Master, why fight unarmed? Let’s take Master Zhang back to Huang’an! Japs won’t reach there!"

　　Dong Yaoting whipped around to kick him. San-shao dodged nimbly, chuckling. Fury unvented.

　　

　　Old Zhang eyed them. "Where’s Zhang Facai?"

　　"They kept him—he’s a corporal now," Dong Yaoting spat. "We’re 'raw recruits'—unworthy."

　　Hanzhi laughed lightly. "Their loss! We’ll find another unit!"

　　San-shao shook his head. "Young Master insisted we’re 74th Army men—scorned the officers!"

　　Dong Yaoting gripped a dadao. "Master, Japs storm the gates! Lend us blades to split skulls?"

　　Zhang Jinzhi nodded grimly. "These served me since the Boxer Rebellion—dadao bloodied at Tianjin!" Hanzhi presented two broadswords. San-shao’s fingers trembled on the hilt; Dong Yaoting swung his in lethal arcs. "Every Jap dies screaming!"

　　Hanzhi stepped forward. "I fight too! Blood debt for our parents!"

　　"Impossible!" Zhang Jinzhi snapped.

　　Dong Yaoting blocked her path. "Girls don’t wage war! Should we grovel between our own legs in shame?"

　　San-shao snorted. "Poetry, Young Master!"

　　

　　As they exited, Zhang Facai stumbled toward them, panting. "My aim’s dogshit—take the rifle!" He thrust the weapon at Dong San-shao. "No 'young master' coddling this time—shoot true!"

　　Dong Yaoting gripped his shoulder. "First smart thing you’ve done!"

　　"Eat shit!" Zhang Facai retorted. "Someone had to save our asses!"

　　Artillery thunder rolled from the east. "To the walls!" Dong Yaoting roared, dadao glinting.

　　

　　Atop the northeast battlements, Zhou Ziyu spotted them: Zhang Facai armed with a dadao, San-shao holding the rifle. His stern mouth twitched in a ghost-smile.

　　Dong Yaoting snapped a salute. "Sir! Use us for this fight! When it ends—back to the 74th!"

　　"Granted!" Zhou Ziyu barked—cannon blasts swallowing his voice. "See it done!"

　　Dong San-shao pressed against cold crenellations. Zhang Facai pointed: "That Jap lieutenant—200 yards. Can you drill him?"

　　San-shao worked the bolt. "I’ll rip the bastard’s heart out." He exhaled. Squeeze.