Chapter 260: Opening Pandora's Box

Jiang Anguo, far away in Changde, watching the sudden surge of points in the system, knew that William had already engaged the Japanese Army, but the sudden jump of over two hundred thousand points caught him off guard.

"William has employed a special weapon," Jiang Anguo muttered to himself.

The Ghost Squad did not use the previous Thunder because, first, the aircraft were different, and second, William brought eighteen P‑38 Lightning fighters, one of which carried a different type of bomb.

A special bomb—this type of bomb, Jiang Anguo would not use it unless necessary.

Above Jinhua.

William pulled the nose up, climbed back to cruising altitude, his eyes scanning the battlefield below like a hawk.

William first had to ensure the sky belonged to his Ghost Squad, then he would launch an attack on the Japanese forces on the ground!

He saw the repeatedly torn positions outside Jinhua City, the Japanese infantry surging like a tide, and the China Army's defensive line built of flesh and blood.

He knew that ground combat was a hundred times more brutal than aerial dogfights.

Outside Jinhua City, the 79th Division's position had become a gigantic meat grinder.

In Division Commander Duan Linmao's headquarters, the telephone lines had been blown apart by artillery several times, and the only report received was: "We can't hold!" The forces of the Japanese 70th Division and 22nd Division clamped the 79th Division's defensive line like two massive iron tongs from opposite directions.

"Baka!" Major General Ye Fu Changde, Frontline Commander of the Japanese 70th Division's 61st Brigade, fumed as another charge was repulsed, smashing his binoculars onto the ground.

The tenacity of the China Army exceeded his imagination; their positions were like an unchewable bone, grinding his teeth to the point of breaking.

Major General Ye Fu Changde knew clearly that the land‑based aircraft had been defeated; without air cover, if the China Air Force returned to attack them, it would be a disaster for all the attacking Japanese ground forces.

At this moment, they must swiftly seize the enemy positions; by forcing close‑quarters combat, the threat of the China Air Force to the Japanese ground troops would be reduced.

"If the attack stalls, use the special shell!" a flash of cruel madness crossed Major General Ye Fu Changde's eyes. "Order the Artillery to use the special shell!"

The Japanese Army could advance so quickly in the south‑central mountains of Zhejiang because the Japanese demon, Shiro Ishii of Unit 731, had also arrived in Zhejiang.

"Yes!" the Messenger immediately took the order and left.

A few minutes later, behind the Japanese positions, several mortars began to work.

"Load…"

Boom!

A mortar round whooshed down onto the 79th Division's position, but landed slightly off, creating a crater only behind the line.

"Adjust angle! Fire!" the Japanese squad leader raised his binoculars, commanding coldly.

"Yes!"

The Artillery swiftly adjusted the mortar's elevation.

Boom!

That round landed precisely inside a trench, the blast hurling two 79th Division soldiers who were firing out of the trench.

The Japanese were not firing blindly; they were test‑firing ordinary shells to calibrate the trajectory.

"Special shell ready…"

Several Japanese artillerymen carefully removed a few oddly shaped shells from a wooden crate painted with a massive skull; the projectiles bore glaring yellow stripes, like invitations from hell.

Everyone held their breath, quickly donning Gas Masks, and the entire gun position was filled with an eerie silence.

"Fire!"

The squad leader gave the order.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Several shells whistled, tracing a strange arc and striking the 79th Division's core position accurately. This time, the explosion was dull and brief, producing no shrapnel—only yellow‑green metal cans hitting the ground and cracking open.

The soldiers on the line were initially puzzled: why didn't the shells explode?

But the next second, a pungent, sweet‑smelling yellow haze rapidly spread from the broken cans.

"Bad! It's poison gas!" Battalion Commander Wang Lei reacted instantly, almost shouting the words, "Cover your nose! Quick! It's the Little Devil's Poison Gas Shell!"

There's nothing they can do; not every unit has Gas Masks, and a Towel might not be available on short notice.

However, it was all too late.

The yellow haze seeped everywhere, entering each soldier's lungs with every breath. Cries of agony rose in waves; many soldiers fell to the ground in pain before they could cover their mouths and noses.

They clutched their throats with both hands, eyes bulging, faces turning a horrific bluish‑purple from hypoxia, bodies convulsing and rolling on the ground as if battling invisible demons.

High above, William was preparing to lead the formation back home.

He glanced casually and saw an ominous plume of yellow smoke rising from the ground positions below.

The color and spread of the smoke set off alarm bells in his mind.

As an elite pilot who had undergone the strictest training, he instantly recognized what it was.

"Poison Gas Shell…"

A cold fury surged from William's core to the heavens. He had seen war's cruelty, but such despicable, shameless slaughter still ignited his most primal anger.

"Ghost 18!" William's voice rang over the channel, cold as a Siberian wind.

"Copy, Captain!" the P‑38 pilot numbered 18 replied immediately; Pilot 18 understood that uttering his call sign meant a special weapon was to be used.

"Did you see that yellow smoke?" William's tone was emotionless. "Open Weapon Box No. 3 and send the 'gift' inside back to those Little Devils below!"

"... Copy!"

Pilot 18 hesitated briefly, then grasped the meaning of the order.

Under his cockpit lay a special button, housing several … small mustard‑gas bombs marked with the same yellow stripes.

This was Jiang Anguo's idea for the Ghost Squad, conceived before departure: if the Japanese used Poison Gas Shells in Zhejiang and Jiangxi, William would be allowed to retaliate in kind, but the use of such weapons was forbidden unless absolutely necessary.

At the same time, William, clicking away, lifted the camera set aside and photographed the Japanese troops' atrocities on the ground, gathering evidence of their crimes.

Now is the time.

The P‑38 "Ghost 18" performed a sleek barrel roll, breaking from the formation like a vengeful arrow, diving toward the 61st Brigade's position where Japanese artillery was gathering.

Three more P‑38s followed closely, protecting "Ghost 18".

William and the other "Lightning" aircraft immediately climbed, providing cover for him.

On the Japanese Army Artillery position, those who had just taken off their gas masks, while admiring the Japanese soldier "Masterpiece", had not yet managed to cheer at the opponent's miserable state when a familiar, increasingly close whistling rose from the sky.

They looked up in terror, seeing only a black twin‑engine fighter, bearing hell's flames, diving straight at them.