Pyongyang's garrison commander, Ishiwara Kanji, led his troops in withdrawal, and the Northeast Army swiftly occupied the city. After several hours of reorganization, Zhou Zaixing, Commander of the 8th Army, suddenly received news that Army Group Commander Hu Xiushan had arrived outside the city. Zhou Zaixing sent men to welcome him, but after dealing with numerous official duties, he still hadn't seen Hu Xiushan at the headquarters. Upon questioning his staff, he learned that Hu Xiushan was inspecting the combat positions.

Zhou Zaixing hurriedly threw on his greatcoat and rushed to the front lines. Arriving there, he saw Hu Xiushan leading several Army Group staff officers walking up and down the battered Japanese positions. When Zhou Zaixing caught up, Hu Xiushan was just emerging from a dugout, climbing up into a trench. Zhou Zaixing pulled Hu Xiushan up, exchanged a few pleasantries, and began his report.

Seeing that although Hu Xiushan listened intently, he did not participate in the discussion, Zhou Zaixing faltered somewhat. He knew Hu Xiushan prioritized on-site inspection above all else and was an extremely meticulous observer. Though a man of few words, his mind was crystal clear. The matters Zhou Zaixing was reporting, while important, could have been handled by the Army Group Chief of Staff. So, Zhou Zaixing asked carefully, "Commander, have you identified our army's deficiencies from the Japanese positions?"

"The 8th Army made very reasonable adjustments after losing the space to conduct infiltration warfare," Hu Xiushan replied.

Zhou Zaixing didn't dare show the slightest negligence and hurriedly pressed, "Do we have any other, more suitable options?"

"No," Hu Xiushan answered. After a pause, he added, "Not at this stage."

"Then when will we?" Zhou Zaixing sensed something.

Hu Xiushan looked again at the Japanese defensive positions, which, though battered, remained compactly arranged. In his mind, he recalled He Rui's description of armored forces at the highest-level military conference. Those steel beasts, currently seen only in illustrations, could ignore the defensive positions before them and execute flanking maneuvers. Relying on their steel armor, they would punch through the enemy's weak points, rapidly intersperse and advance, and attack the enemy's vulnerabilities. Meanwhile, dive bombers in the sky would carry out precise and effective attacks on Japanese strongpoints, completing the encirclement and segmentation of enemy forces in a very short time, annihilating them one by one.

This could be seen as an enhanced version of certain Northeast Army squad tactics, but at the current stage, the war really had to be upheld by the infantry.

So Hu Xiushan replied calmly, "Wait until our equipment enters the next round of upgrades. Also, the 8th Army will rest and reorganize in Pyongyang; the 5th Army will take over the offensive."

Zhou Zaixing didn't know how else to respond, so he could only answer, "Yes!"

"Go back to your work; there are too many things to handle in occupying the whole of Pyongyang. I'll go to headquarters after I finish looking at the Japanese position layout." Hu Xiushan finished speaking and continued along the edge of the Japanese positions.

***

At a mountain pass less than 30 kilometers from Pyongyang, Okamura Yasuji halted his horse. Seeing the meticulously arranged defensive positions, Ishiwara Kanji asked, "Okamura-kun, how long do you intend for the troops here to hold?"

Okamura Yasuji looked at his own layout and said indifferently, "Defenses in this kind of location will last two to three hours, at least an hour."

Without waiting for Ishiwara Kanji to ask more, Okamura Yasuji invited Ishiwara to dismount with him. The two stood on high ground overlooking the position. Okamura Yasuji bowed slightly, "Ishiwara-kun, I originally thought you could only hold out in Pyongyang for ten hours. I didn't expect you to hold for over forty-eight. Thank you. This allowed me to calmly reinforce the positions and delay the enemy's advance as much as possible."

Ishiwara Kanji smiled faintly, not thinking much of it. Okamura Yasuji continued, "Ishiwara-kun, what is your assessment of the enemy commander's combat determination?"

This question raised Ishiwara Kanji's evaluation of Okamura Yasuji by several notches. "I believe the enemy commander's determination is not as firm as it was during the offensive on Kwantung, or during the annihilation of the 19th and 20th Divisions. Their artillery fire is precise, and their soldiers are extremely brave, fearing neither battle nor death. It was only after holding out for twenty-four hours that I became more certain of my previous judgment: the Northeast Army does not have the resolve to take Seoul at all costs."

"Then what is the purpose of the enemy using large numbers of trucks for rapid advancement?"

"To occupy northern Korea as quickly as possible, begin constructing defensive lines, and prepare to meet the Imperial Army's counterattack," Ishiwara Kanji replied. Finishing his sentence, seeing that Okamura Yasuji didn't seem to fully accept this, Ishiwara felt that Okamura was still the same old Okamura—always half a beat slow in strategy.

Of course, Ishiwara didn't underestimate Okamura because of this; officers in the Japanese army who were one or even two beats slower than Ishiwara in strategy were everywhere. Up to now, only Nagata Tetsuzan could keep up with Ishiwara's rhythm. And since a large part of Nagata's attention was focused on how to integrate Japan's upper echelons, it often required Ishiwara to speak first before Nagata could immediately catch up with the train of thought.

"Okamura-kun, I will go ahead to the next point to rest. The next twenty-four hours will be hard on you," Ishiwara said. He mounted his horse, descended from the high ground, and led the troops withdrawing from Pyongyang toward Seoul.

Starting from October 17th, the main attacking force of the Northeast Army switched from the 8th Army to the 5th Army. The battle reports over the next four days were full of frustration and reflection regarding the Japanese forces.

"...The Japanese army has formulated a campaign plan of tiered resistance, which has been thoroughly implemented in combat..."

"...The selection of battle locations fully considers the local terrain, fully implementing the military principle of engaging with the orthodox and winning with the surprise... They spare no casualties during resistance operations and are extremely resolute. After achieving their delay objectives, they retreat decisively without any hesitation, making it impossible for our army to wipe out their main force..."

"...Using regular troops to conduct guerrilla warfare, their attacks on our transport and supply lines are very determined, which has indeed affected our speed of advance. However, our army possesses complete superiority in troop strength, causing the Japanese attacks on our supply lines to suffer repeated setbacks..."

"...The Japanese commanders have performed excellently, using very limited forces to achieve their campaign objectives. Their slippery characteristics are unlike the known command styles of Japanese generals. Up to now, due to their massive disadvantage in troop strength, it is impossible to judge their offensive capabilities. Although the Japanese have made effective tactical adjustments for the current situation, in essence, they have not yet been able to break free from the mold of traditional Japanese tactics..."

At 14:00 on the 21st, Ishiwara Kanji led his troops down from a position 20 kilometers from Seoul. The troops had marched more than three hundred meters when several thunderous explosions rang out from the pass behind them, the commotion even more shocking than 150mm shells hitting the ground. Immediately after, the sound of rolling rocks continued incessantly. Ishiwara Kanji didn't look back and continued to lead his troops in retreat.

Along the way, Okamura Yasuji's position layouts were extremely ingenious; the frontal defensive positions were constructed to be highly advantageous, and the ambush positions were arranged just as cleverly. They were often able to surprise the enemy, yet allowed the troops to fight and then withdraw.

Moreover, the withdrawal arrangements behind the positions were complete; as long as they weren't heavily wounded, everyone could be evacuated. Although the overall situation was the Northeast Army chasing the Japanese retreat, the actual losses inflicted on the Japanese were not great.

If the Northeast Army hadn't employed trucks for troop transport but had used pure infantry pursuit, Ishiwara Kanji would likely still be blocking the Northeast Army on defensive positions 100 kilometers away from Seoul.

But war is war, and retreating to this point meant reaching the final leg. Ishiwara Kanji led his troops in rapid movement, heading straight for the assembly point 15 kilometers from the urban area of Seoul.

When arranging defenses, Okamura had targeted the Northeast Army's heavy use of trucks by destroying roads at key points. Just like the place they had just left, several large pits had been dug, and holes had been bored at the mountain pass, filled with large amounts of explosives. The Japanese destroyed the roads before leaving, making it impossible for the Northeast Army truck convoys to pass easily, buying about three or four hours of time.

Arriving at the assembly point, Japanese officers waiting there immediately came forward to salute. "Lieutenant Colonel Ishiwara, by order of Lieutenant Colonel Okamura, please allow us to select personnel from your unit."

Ishiwara Kanji nodded. The officers proceeded to pick out soldiers from the retreating troops who were uninjured, still had good morale, and were as burly and sturdy as possible. If their uniforms were badly damaged, they brought out clean uniforms for them to change into.

At this moment, Ishiwara Kanji had to admit that in terms of being an all-around staff officer, he indeed had quite a gap compared to Okamura Yasuji. Walking into the assembly point and lifting the door curtain to enter the command post, he saw Okamura Yasuji sitting on a stool in the center, surrounded by several women who were touching up his face.

Seeing Ishiwara enter, the women hurriedly bowed and quickly finished the final procedures with brushes and eyebrow pencils before retreating to the corner of the tent. Okamura Yasuji stood up. He was radiant, and combined with his pristine uniform, he didn't look at all like someone who had been chased all the way back; rather, he looked more like a soldier in high spirits after a victorious battle on the front lines. As Okamura approached, Ishiwara realized that no matter how incredible the makeup skills were, they couldn't conceal the emaciation and haggardness caused by the extreme hard work of these past days.

Okamura Yasuji bowed slightly. "Ishiwara-kun, I can only ask you to suffer the injustice of leading the troops to cross the river downstream and return to the city from the south."

Ishiwara Kanji laughed heartily. "Hehe, Okamura-kun, you've worked hard."

This was sincere. No matter how arduous the work, how dangerous the battlefield, or how complex the strategic thinking and judgment, Ishiwara Kanji endured it gladly. The only thing he avoided like the plague was showing his face in public for deliberate propaganda. There was no helping it; what he couldn't accept, he couldn't accept.

Not long after, Okamura Yasuji led about 3,000 troops to bid farewell to Ishiwara, heading straight for the main gate of Seoul along the main road.

At this time, large numbers of Japanese military personnel and expatriates were gathered at the gates of Seoul. These expatriates were women, children, and the elderly; the able-bodied men had all been temporarily conscripted and incorporated into the Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army. These men wore ill-fitting uniforms, and some didn't even have rifles in their hands, holding only wooden sticks. Under the command of sergeants, they lined up in as orderly a formation as possible.

The Japanese soldiers and expatriates all knew that war was about to unfold in Seoul. The forcibly conscripted recruits and their families were very nervous, only daring not to voice the apprehension in their hearts. Just then, a neat column was seen approaching in the distance. The leading officer rode a tall horse.

As they got closer, the national anthem "Kimigayo" could be heard from afar. Before long, the troops also began to sing the Army anthem in unison. Listening to the resonant singing, the moods of the new recruits and expatriates actually calmed down slightly.

When the troops arrived, they halted. The officer on horseback dismounted and walked briskly toward the high platform where the Governor-General of Korea and the Commander of the Korean Army stood. This radiant officer was none other than Okamura Yasuji. Led by a protocol officer, he stood below the platform alongside Nagata Tetsuzan.

General Ōba Jirō, Commander of the Korean Army, stood before the microphone and spoke loudly: "Everyone, the brave sons of the Great Japanese Empire have successfully blocked the enemy's despicable sneak attack and have returned victorious. By order of the Imperial General Headquarters in Tokyo, I shall award medals to the brave imperial sons!"

As he spoke, two protocol officers came onto the stage. One held a tray with medals, and the other, acting as the master of ceremonies, began to introduce Nagata Tetsuzan's meritorious service. This outstanding officer of the Empire had remained calm in the face of danger, quickly organizing personnel and deploying troops, replenishing manpower over these days, and preparing defensive positions. He had stabilized the unfavorable situation caused by the enemy's despicable sneak attack. The Ministry of War promoted Nagata Tetsuzan to Army Major General and awarded him a medal.

After the MC finished shouting, General Ōba Jirō took the rank insignia from the tray and replaced them on Nagata Tetsuzan, then pinned the medal on him. Nagata saluted the General, and the General returned the salute. Nagata then walked to the microphone and delivered a spirited speech.

While Nagata Tetsuzan was making his impassioned speech to the new recruits and expatriates watching the entry ceremony, declaring that the Japanese army would inevitably win and the enemy could never breach Seoul...

Ishiwara Kanji was ordering his subordinates to throw ropes into the Han River. Okamura Yasuji was extremely meticulous in his work; since they couldn't enter from the main gate of Seoul, he had built a temporary pontoon bridge over the river. This was to facilitate Ishiwara Kanji bringing those wounded, exhausted, tattered, and haggard troops—who looked like refugees—to retreat to the south bank of the Han River.

These soldiers had basically exhausted their physical strength, and the pontoon bridge wasn't too stable; some accidentally fell into the river. Fortunately, Okamura had considered everything thoroughly and provided life-saving ropes. The soldiers who fell in barely managed to grab the ropes and were dragged onto the pontoon bridge. Soaking wet, they simply lay on the bridge deck, not wanting to move a muscle. Ishiwara organized men to carry these exhausted fellows across the river.

Worried that such incidents would happen again, Ishiwara organized men to carry the wounded across. Those who were physically drained were supported by those who were slightly less drained as they walked across the trembling pontoon bridge.

By the time this pitiful-looking unit had mostly crossed the Han River, the entry ceremony at the main gate of Seoul officially began. The officers who had received promotions and medals followed behind the military band, striding proudly through the city gate and into the city. Behind them, 3,000 mighty and majestic officers and men followed in neat formation.

At the city gate and on the streets, many people waved flags—Japanese national flags, military flags, and colorful banners fluttered in the air. Added to the stirring music played by the military band, it was no different from having won a great victory.

Many of the forcibly conscripted new recruits, seeing this majestic scene, couldn't help but feel excited in their hearts, and under the command of their unit officers, they shouted "Long live the Great Japanese Empire!" together.

The expatriates weren't as enthusiastic, but they couldn't help shouting along. For those who really looked indifferent, someone would walk up to them and question, "Why aren't you shouting the slogans? Are you unpatriotic citizens?"

Hearing "unpatriotic citizens" (hikokumin), those expatriates felt as if they had been whipped and hurriedly shouted the slogans along with the others. Over forty thousand Japanese troops and fifty to sixty thousand expatriates—more than one hundred thousand people in total—shouted "Long live the Great Japanese Empire" together. The shouts could be heard throughout the city. The Koreans in Seoul were either astonished, went crazy, or looked toward the direction of the entry ceremony with complex expressions.

Around 17:20 on October 21st, the streets of Seoul were truly awash with banners, a sea of people, the din of drums and music, and the roar of gun salutes. Such a scene was rarely seen even in the history of Seoul.

Infected by the atmosphere, the Japanese people shouted "Long live the Great Japanese Empire!" and "Long live His Majesty the Emperor!" over and over again. Many felt they were no longer afraid, and some were even moved to tears by the emotion.

Around 18:00, the Northeast Army's vanguard had arrived outside Seoul. Seoul lies downstream on the Han River, only 30 kilometers from the west coast of the Korean Peninsula. The Han River flows slowly from east to west, with a water surface width of about 400 to 1,000 meters. The city spreads windingly along the gentle river valley, naturally divided into northern and southern districts.

Surrounding the city were low mountains and hills with an elevation of about 500 meters. The Northeast Army had no interest in the urban area itself. As long as they could remove these heights and set up fire positions on them, Seoul, located in the lowlands, would have absolutely no possibility of defense. The vanguard troops checked their maps and saw that, just as the Air Force reconnaissance planes had photographed, Nagata Tetsuzan had fully utilized the mountain terrain to arrange high-ground defensive positions, while only arranging a few defensive lines on the roads for Seoul itself.

Before night fell, the news reached the 5th Army Headquarters, which was on the move. Army Group Commander Hu Xiushan was also at the 5th Army HQ. Since the end of the Pyongyang campaign, Hu Xiushan had handed over the rear work to his Chief of Staff and followed the 5th Army HQ all the way to observe the Japanese combat effectiveness.

After receiving the intelligence, Hu Xiushan stood up and called out, "Communications Officer."

The communications officer immediately stood beside Hu Xiushan with a notebook. Hu Xiushan paced slowly and dictated the telegram unhurriedly: "To the Military Commission/General Headquarters. Up to now, the Japanese forces in Seoul have demonstrated clear operational thinking. They possess excellent commanders and frontline officers. Our army has arrived at the outskirts of Seoul and is about to begin preparations for the attack. Can the Military Commission dispatch two more armies into Korea to relieve the other units of my Army Group? Commander of the 2nd Army Group, Hu Xiushan."

A few minutes later, only He Rui, Xu Chengfeng, and Cheng Ruofan remained in the operations room of the General Headquarters after receiving the telegram. Political Commissar Zhong Yifu was currently commanding troops in the Shanhaiguan area and had not stayed at headquarters.

Xu Chengfeng asked calmly, "Chairman, does the campaign end here?"

Before He Rui could speak, Cheng Ruofan said, "Why not give Xiushan two more armies and let him try."

He Rui was slightly indecisive. After a moment's thought, he answered from a strategic perspective, "The purpose of the entire war is to consume the Japanese forces, not to be consumed by them. Let Xiushan continue the attack."

Xu Chengfeng nodded and ordered a reply. Cheng Ruofan stood up, stretched greatly, and sighed comfortably before saying, "I feel the comrades fought very well, but I still feel something is missing."

"Since they fought very well, then nothing is missing," Xu Chengfeng replied.

Hearing this, Cheng Ruofan couldn't help laughing, "That sounds like you're hiding your unhappiness in your heart. Ha! Dishonest!"

Xu Chengfeng replied calmly, "Even if I am dishonest, I know we must not demand perfection. Thinking like that is unhealthy."

Cheng Ruofan stopped talking to Xu Chengfeng and turned to He Rui. He Rui sighed, "This is the price of learning. The comrades did their best. The current stage is not the decisive battle. If we want to reduce losses quantitatively, we will lose some opportunities due to lack of experience. At this stage, the fewer casualties, the better."

Hearing this, Cheng Ruofan snapped to attention, all relaxation in his expression vanished. The Northeast Army Chief of Staff answered seriously, "Chairman, I understand. I will never have those thoughts again."

He Rui said nothing, because he himself was adjusting his mindset. "A general's success is built on ten thousand withering bones." Precisely because these officers and men were fighting for the country, one must absolutely not place one's personal emotional impulses above their lives and deaths. Although this is human nature, and also determined by cruel political and military interests. Precisely because of this, one must not view human lives as mere numbers in the slightest.

He Rui thought he knew this. It wasn't until he saw so many corpses with his own eyes, and saw the statistical reports of nearly ten thousand injuries and over three thousand deaths in the Northeast Army, that He Rui realized that before throwing himself into the war, he really only "knew" it intellectually.

But as the supreme commander, these casualties could not become He Rui's burden. So He Rui stood up, lit a cigarette, and after calming his spirit, said, "Next, quickly prepare the defensive system. I'm afraid I'll have some political issues to deal with during this time. The headquarters must shoulder the responsibility."

"Yes," Xu Chengfeng and Cheng Ruofan answered together.

At this moment, Nagata Tetsuzan, Okamura Yasuji, and Ishiwara Kanji finally reunited in Seoul. There was no joy, no happy conversation. Ishiwara Kanji immediately made a request, "Please let me sleep for three hours."

Okamura Yasuji nodded, "Me too."

Nagata Tetsuzan saluted the two without a word. The two returned the salute, then each found a camp bed and collapsed onto it. Nagata Tetsuzan sat down and dictated a telegram to Tokyo, "To Ministry of War/General Staff Headquarters/October 21, 1922, 16:21/Manchuria-Mongolia Expeditionary Army Liaison Office Telegram No. 1922-00150/Our army has fully withdrawn to Seoul to implement defense; enemy vanguard has arrived at Seoul. The troops under the Liaison Office's command, including emergency conscripts, total over 44,300. We will defend Seoul to the death and never retreat. My unit has 231 artillery pieces of various calibers, 687 machine guns, over 34,000 rifles, 40,000 hand grenades. Over 6.5 million rounds of ammunition. Requesting the Ministry of War and General Staff Headquarters to provide another emergency shipment of 12,000 rifles and three base numbers of ammunition to ensure the combat effectiveness of the Seoul garrison..."

The telegram reached the temporary Imperial General Headquarters in Tokyo. The gloom on the face of Minister of War Tanaka Giichi was dispelled considerably. The new Chief of the General Staff, Lieutenant General Suzuki Soroku, immediately ordered General Staff personnel to compile statistics on the equipment shipped to Busan Port to see how much could be provided to Seoul.

The General Staff personnel soon brought the equipment report and reported cautiously to Lieutenant General Suzuki Soroku, "By October 25th, three fully equipped regiments can be committed to the Battle of Seoul."

No one in the Imperial General Headquarters spoke. If someone had dared to say this a few days ago, they would likely have been reprimanded in public, or even beaten by the exasperated generals. But now, no one responded. This silence represented everyone's attitude. In their originally most pessimistic view, given the Northeast Army's god-speed advance, Seoul would have fallen completely by October 22nd.

Now, a thought they didn't dare voice lingered in everyone's minds: perhaps Seoul could really hold out until October 25th. If they could really achieve that, this great defeat starting from Kwantung would come to a full stop.