From September 2nd to September 6th, Operation "Cold Water" did not stop for a moment. The instant the Northeast Army completed the construction of pontoon bridges across the Yalu River, the Japanese army had to fight on, no matter how much they wished not to. If the defense line were breached by the Northeast Army and another rout to Pyongyang occurred, everyone from the generals in headquarters to the division commanders would have to commit seppuku to apologize for their crimes.

By the morning of September 4th, the roar of large-caliber Japanese artillery was basically unheard on the battlefield. It wasn't because these heavy guns had all been destroyed by the Northeast Army, but because each gun had fewer than three shells remaining. They could only concentrate the ammunition for a few guns in the best condition, to be used only at the most critical moments.

Without heavy artillery cover, the Northeast Army pressed forward step by step. The Japanese could only brave the Northeast Army's shelling in their positions, using small-caliber artillery and machine guns to repel the Northeast Army infantry attacks.

By noon on September 6th, everyone from Chief of Staff Nagata Tetsuzan down to the division commanders had bloodshot eyes. Days of continuous high-intensity combat left these commanders with absolutely no time to rest. Bad news came one after another, causing the mental state of the Japanese commanders to collapse.

On September 3rd, the Northeast Army conducted small-scale airborne operations in the Japanese rear. The airborne squads did not engage in harassment combat but easily completed missions to blow up railways and bridges in the vast space of the Japanese rear. These plans had been finalized back when the Northeast Army occupied northern Korea. After completing a series of sabotage tasks, each squad boarded planes that came to pick them up. Relying on the pilots' exquisite skills and pre-arranged landing sites, they easily flew into the sky and returned to the Northeast amidst the frantic dragnet searches of the Japanese rear guard.

The damage caused by these squads, numbering fewer than a hundred men, was fatal. Nagata Tetsuzan discovered that the frontline Japanese troops had been unable to receive even the artillery shells shipped to Busan and Seoul for seven days.

Afterward, the Northeast Army bombed the Japanese supply lines from the coastline, destroying many transport vehicles moving slowly on the roads. Northeast Army fighter planes strafed the ground, causing personnel losses to the Japanese far greater than those caused by bombers.

Ishiwara Kanji buried himself in maps, desperately trying to find the most effective routes for a counterattack from the various terrains. At this point, heavy artillery ammunition was exhausted. Artillery shells for infantry support were transported to the front purely by manpower, arriving a little bit each day. But it was a drop in the bucket, usable only at the most critical moments.

With no other choice, Ishiwara could only rely on pure tactical skills like attack routes to handle the battle.

At this time, Okamura Yasuji dragged his exhausted body into the headquarters at his fastest current speed. Nagata Tetsuzan immediately stood up, his bloodshot eyes full of expectation.

Okamura Yasuji reported the news with a difficult tone, "Chief of Staff, the Navy has provided all the 100mm naval guns they could offer, as well as all the ammunition. Chief of Staff, ammunition supply has also encountered problems. A team transporting bullets was spotted by enemy planes while approaching the front and came under attack."

Nagata Tetsuzan spoke; his throat was hoarse, his voice so small it was almost inaudible. But from a few notes, Okamura Yasuji understood what Nagata Tetsuzan wanted to ask. He replied, "Chief of Staff, the troops' heavy machine gun ammunition is almost exhausted. Only one-third of the heavy machine guns have one unit of fire left. The soldiers have less than two units of fire for their rifles."

Nagata Tetsuzan sat down dejectedly. At this moment, Nagata was surprised at himself; he, who had always been confident, could actually feel despair. But right now, Nagata felt only numbness and helplessness. The Empire of Japan had done its best, the Army had done its best, and even the Navy had provided all the support within its power.

This failure certainly had the factor of the Great Kanto Earthquake in it. But originally, there had been no need to pay such a great price or take such a great risk. Everything was actually for the Army to prove that Japan's unwritten national policy was still effective. Japan's unwritten national policy referred to the Continental Policy, where Japan would maintain China's divided state, easily obtaining benefits from it, and thereby maintaining Japan's absolute dominant position in the Far East.

The current failure meant that the unwritten national policy had completely failed, and Japan would have to choose a new national policy domestically. Regardless of which policy was ultimately selected, Japan had lost the strategic possibility of preventing China's unification. By the time Japan decided on a new direction, China would inevitably be completely unified by He Rui.

Okamura Yasuji saw Nagata Tetsuzan's despair and could only turn to look at Ishiwara Kanji. "Vice Chief of Staff, do you have any views?"

Ishiwara Kanji raised his head; his bloodshot eyes were still relatively calm. Supporting himself on the table covered with various maps, he stood up somewhat unsteadily. "Okamura-kun, right now if we want to retreat, we can only launch a counterattack. The enemy's attacks on our army have always stopped short of pressing home; they are trying to consume our ammunition. This time, we have only one method: when the enemy attacks, let them into our positions and lure their main force to continue thrusting forward. When the engagement distance is close enough, launch a bayonet counter-charge."

Okamura couldn't help but widen his eyes. Ishiwara Kanji's expression remained unchanged, perhaps even becoming a bit more resolute. "Okamura-kun, I know this is an extremely high requirement for the operations of each division. Many divisions will not be able to hold, but if we don't do this, after one more offense and defense cycle, our battle line will collapse. The fate of the 19th and 20th Divisions will befall us. At that time, our army will very likely be completely annihilated."

Hearing the words "completely annihilated," Okamura shivered violently. Eleven months ago, when Okamura and Ishiwara had advanced against the pouncing Northeast Army and completed that incomparably difficult great retreat, he had not truly despaired. But now, Okamura felt as if his whole body was submerged in ice water; a bone-chilling cold seemed to grip his heart.

At this moment, the field telephones on the table rang frantically one after another. In the distance, the rumble of artillery sounded. Without answering the phones, they knew: the Northeast Army's attack had begun again.