Traveling through the Northeast snowfield in 1915, Lin He just wanted to survive this winter.
Outside the dilapidated station was a raging white-haired wind, and plaster flags and bandit sabers were swaying on the edge of the map.
Until a mechanical voice sounded in my mind: [The red alert system was successfully activated.
When the Kwantung Army Major stepped into the wind and snow with the order to "take over the railway", what he saw was not the untouchables kneeling to greet him, but the cold light of the torrent of steel on the horizon.
The tracks of tanks crushed the "Glory of Manchuria", the shadow of the Kirov airship enveloped the city wall of Fengtian, and the magnetic storm coil lit up the night sky of the entire Far East.
"Empire? Warlord?" Lin He sat in the command center, looking at the starry sea of production lists and chuckled.
"The prey these days always feel that they are the hunters."
(This book is being revised, and the revised chapter titles will have a revised word after them)
