Four generations. Eighty years. The blood debt has never been settled.
When Li Tianyang, terminally ill with liver cancer, set fire to the Yasukuni Shrine’s toilet, he thought it was the only thing he could do.
Then he transmigrated. It was 1935 in northern China, and he had a System that could see through people’s hearts, along with an appointment letter naming him commander of a local security regiment.
The regiment was supposed to have three hundred men, but only 160 showed up. It had fifty rifles and fewer than five bullets per man. The quartermaster was a Japanese spy, the commander was one in name only, and the three platoon leaders each had their own agenda.
But that didn’t matter. He knew where to find guns, who the traitors were, and where to find soldiers eager to kill Japanese invaders but without anyone to lead them.
Starting with a local security regiment, by the outbreak of the War of Resistance he had become the thorn in the Japanese army’s side that they most dreaded in northern China.
This time, he returned before his great-grandfather enlisted.
This time, he would collect the blood debt with his own hands.
What are you writing about? When the Japanese ran away, they left you the radio code book and account book, the account book of someone they colluded with, everything was left to you 🤦, and left a time bomb button under the bed of the Japanese emperor, you just need to press it 😂
So far, the writing is not exaggerated, nor is it mindless.