Chapter Twenty-Two: The Death of Setsuzo Yazaki

On the small battlefield, after being ravaged by ten Maxim heavy machine guns, the ground was pockmarked with countless craters and littered with the bodies of Japanese soldiers, each one lying broken and mangled. Almost every fallen enemy bore the wounds of multiple bullets, their bodies torn and blood pooling beneath them. A breeze carried the thick, nauseating stench of blood, making anyone who inhaled it feel sick.

The soldiers stared in disbelief, unable to comprehend what they themselves had caused. Was it truly possible that, with only ten Maxim heavy machine guns, they had annihilated nearly an entire battalion of Japanese troops? Such a feat was something they would never have imagined before. Yet the evidence lay before their eyes—there was no denying it.

In truth, this devastating victory was the result of many factors. On one hand, the Japanese, having passed through the minefield, had let their guard down, never expecting an ambush to follow so soon. They were caught completely unprepared. Furthermore, after the enemy’s own machine gun suppression, the Japanese believed the Chinese troops had run out of ammunition, so they charged forward recklessly. Their formations, too, had become overly dense due to their lack of vigilance.

Most fatally, the Japanese had underestimated their opponents. Since arriving on the battlefield of the Republic, they had always looked upon the Chinese troops with contempt, having previously faced only troops with weak morale and poor equipment. They had never imagined that Chen Qingzhi’s unit would possess heavy machine guns—let alone ten of them.

All these reasons combined led to the annihilation of nearly an entire battalion of Japanese soldiers in an instant. Even Chen Qingzhi himself had not anticipated such a result. Nevertheless, the more enemy troops they could destroy, the better—it was a cause for satisfaction. Still, one could not help but think, “Those whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad.” Fate indeed played cruel tricks. Misfortune was destined to befall these invaders.

While the soldiers were still in shock, confusion spread among the Japanese ranks as well. They hesitated, unsure whether to continue their assault.

A Japanese battalion commander, uncertain, crawled over to Yazaki Setsuzo and whispered, “Colonel Yazaki, should we continue the attack?”

“How many men did we lose just now?” Yazaki Setsuzo asked.

“The exact number is unclear, but roughly estimated, we lost about a thousand Imperial warriors.”

A thousand men! At that number, Yazaki Setsuzo’s heart bled. His 115th Regiment comprised only four field infantry battalions. Earlier, in the assault on Chen Qingzhi’s position at Zhonghua Gate, they had already lost more than a battalion’s worth of men. Now, yet another field battalion was gone! His 115th Regiment was reduced to less than two battalions—almost half its strength wiped out.

To lose more than half their force against a single Chinese battalion—this was the deepest humiliation ever suffered by the 115th Regiment. A disgrace beyond compare! And if, having suffered such losses, they still could not destroy the enemy, what standing would the regiment have in the Imperial Army? Yazaki Setsuzo himself would become a laughingstock among all the Empire’s officers.

Thinking this, Yazaki Setsuzo’s face twisted with fury. He shouted, “Attack! Of course we must attack! If we don’t wipe them out, our 115th Regiment will have no honor left!”

He roared, nearly beside himself, “I want to see the heads of eve