Chapter One: The Iron-Blooded Resistance System

Boom... boom...

Thunderous explosions shook the earth, erupting right beside Chen Qingzhi, their deafening force leaving his mind reeling. He shook his head, struggling to regain clarity.

Opening his eyes, he found himself surrounded by unfamiliar sights.

"Where am I?" Instantly alert, Chen Qingzhi reacted with the instinctive vigilance of China's greatest soldier—a state of readiness honed to perfection, ready to meet any danger.

But the scene before him stirred something deep within. Turning, he saw the ground littered with corpses and soldiers in battered uniforms. The landscape was scarred and ruined. The roar of artillery echoed in his ears, bullets whistling overhead, punching holes into the earth.

Though confusion gnawed at him, Chen Qingzhi stayed silent. As the king among special forces, composure in crisis was his second nature.

"Captain, you're awake! That's wonderful!" came a voice nearby, breaking through his thoughts. Chen Qingzhi looked over to see a stranger—yet there was something familiar about him. The man's face was lit with a smile, sweat streaming from his brow.

He appeared to be in his twenties, rough-faced and blackened by gunpowder. His old, tattered uniform told of hardship and battle.

The man spoke, but Chen Qingzhi remained silent, his mind seething with questions.

Where was he? What were they doing?

He glanced down at himself, lying in a trench, dressed in khaki like the others—his uniform perhaps newer than theirs.

What was happening? His confusion grew.

He distinctly remembered being the commander of the Wolf Fang Special Forces, the Republic's elite unit, leading his men on a mission. Their target: an infamous drug lord who had terrorized the Middle East and the Golden Triangle for a decade, now attempting to smuggle narcotics into China. The police had discovered his plan and sought to capture him alive, coordinating with the military for flawless execution. Chen Qingzhi and Wolf Fang represented the military in the joint operation.

After a relentless assault, the drug lord's men were wiped out, and he himself cornered and near death. But unexpectedly, he detonated a liquid bomb hidden in his teeth just as Chen Qingzhi subdued him.

What happened next was a blur. When Chen Qingzhi awoke, he was here.

"Is this a film set?" he wondered, surveying the chaos. Soldiers fired their guns, bullets zipped overhead, but he saw no cameras.

Suddenly, memories flooded him, crashing in waves. His head ached terribly, but he endured—his iron will unshaken.

After some time, he digested these memories, grasping his situation.

He had died in the explosion. His body perished, but his soul crossed over, inhabiting someone with his own name.

It was now 1937.

He was now the captain of the 1st Battalion, 527th Regiment, 246th Brigade, 88th Division of the 71st Army, under Wang Jingjiu. The Battle of Shanghai had failed, and the Japanese were launching a massive assault on Nanjing. The 88th Division, led by Wang Jingjiu, was stationed at Zhonghua Gate to block the enemy. Chen Qingzhi's regiment held the main position, tasked with resisting the right flank of the Japanese 114th Division.

Realizing this, Chen Qingzhi was stunned. He lay in the trench, staring in disbelief, horror in his eyes.

He had traveled back to the anti-Japanese era.

And he was now on the battlefield of the Defense of Nanjing!

But he was Wolf Fang's commander, the Republic's top soldier. Though shaken, he quickly regained his composure.

In later years, the invasion of China became the nation's greatest shame. Anyone recalling that era felt deep hatred for the Japanese aggressors, wishing for vengeance. Chen Qingzhi, versed in history and the Republic's finest, loathed their atrocities.

Though he missed the world he left behind, now that he was here, he would show these invaders the indomitable spirit of Chinese soldiers!

With this resolve, he looked at the warriors around him, bravely holding the line against the Japanese. The ceaseless gunfire filled him with passion. After the initial shock, his heart burned with patriotism.

"Japanese devils! Now that I, Chen Qingzhi, am here, you will pay in blood. You'll learn what it means to face Chinese soldiers—unyielding, determined to fight to the death!"

His face hardened with resolve as he silently vowed.

And then, a voice suddenly echoed in his mind.

"Ding! Congratulations, host, on awakening. The Iron-Blooded Resistance System has been successfully activated! As an activation reward, you receive 100 points!"

Chen Qingzhi paused, astonished. It was an electronic, synthetic voice—cold, devoid of emotion. It was not human.

The Iron-Blooded Resistance System?

Could this be his golden finger? He was startled, but quickly relaxed.

Though a system was fantastical, so was traversing to the Republic. After all he'd seen, Chen Qingzhi was unfazed.

After the initial shock passed, he calmly asked, "What is the Iron-Blooded Resistance System? What are these points? What are they for?"

As the Republic's finest, he quickly zeroed in on the essentials.

"Points are gained by killing foreign enemies. They can be exchanged for weapons and equipment within the Resistance System. Other features are locked due to insufficient host level."

"The Iron-Blooded Resistance System, as the name implies, is for killing invaders. With its help, you will endure countless trials of blood and fire, aiding this weakened country to rise to strength."

"During this journey, you will face endless suffering—witnessing separation, death, and the fall of the nation. Host, we hope you will remain true to your heart, fight the Japanese, slay the enemy, and strengthen our national prestige!"

"Host, are you ready?"

The system's words were cold and emotionless, yet Chen Qingzhi's face grew solemn.

The system was right.

This nation was weak, a sleeping lion. A century of slumber made the world forget its power—once awakened, it could strike down any invader.

Now, in the nation's darkest hour, even a small eastern country dared to invade mighty China.

It was a national disgrace, a stain upon the people.

"Majestic China, rivers and mountains, yet the barbarians invade, leaving scars everywhere. This is our humiliation!"

Chen Qingzhi's blood surged, and he declared in a low, firm voice, "Now, I, Chen Qingzhi, swear—my life shall be devoted to killing the enemy. I will do all I can to fight bravely, uphold the honor of our soldiers, and strengthen our nation!"

Though the Republic was weak, centuries of history lent it not only ancient culture, but also the dignity of a great power.

Its might dominates the seas, its gaze commands all directions.

"Brave China, together through hardship! Blood will flow, but the battle shall not cease!"

Those who violate China, no matter how distant, shall be punished!

Unconsciously, Chen Qingzhi clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles went white, but he paid it no mind.

His face was resolute as he spoke, word by word, "I am ready!"

"I am... ready!"

Though these five words were barely whispered, they resounded like thunder across the land of China, echoing endlessly.

His declaration rang out, firm and unyielding.