The co-pilot of Jingwei No. 1 leaned over and put his left eye on the sight, and his beard raised from left to right...

At 8:13:30, Chen Mincong said, "It's up to you."

The invader fighter bomber was an automatic aircraft, flying westward at a speed of 385 kilometers per hour over Tokyo.

The co-pilot aims to correct flight deviations. The clouds in the sky have dispersed, and he clearly recognizes everything he has become familiar with from the target photo—seven tributaries, forming six islands. The center of the aiming point bridge enters the crossline of the sight.

"The target has been found." said the co-pilot.

At 8:15:17, Jingwei's plug-in points have been warmed up and can drop bombs at any time.

The bomb drop time is controlled by a computer based on the data fed into the sight by the co-pilot. His finger is pressed on a button, and if the bomb cannot fall off, he presses it down.

The radio sound suddenly stopped and the nuclear bomb automatically landed.

Seeing the slender bomb's tail falling downwards, then turned over and the warhead fell down towards Tokyo. As the weight was reduced by 9,000 pounds, the fuselage suddenly rose. Chen Mincong turned to the right, with a curve of more than 150 degrees, and then pressed the nose to accelerate.

A dozen packages fell under the belly of several Black Hawk fighter jets. Almost at the same time, the packages became parachutes. The ones hanging under the parachute were cylinders like fire extinguishers - this was a transmitter that wanted to send data back.

Chen Mincong ordered everyone to "wear goggles well."

The bomb was set to explode in forty-three seconds, and when it was thirty-five seconds, he also put on his glasses.

The ground and sky in Tokyo were very calm, and people did the same thing as usual. Seeing the three parachutes thinking that the enemy plane was shot, the crew jumped into the parachute, or were emitting some flyers. Someone remembered the scene where the flyers were shining in the air before, and thought, the Chinese were sending us good things again.

A few hundred meters north of the Okawa Bridge, there was a first-class private named Shimoshita. He was recently enlisted. At this time, he was wearing a pair of deep myopia glasses and looked up lazily at one of the falling parachutes. He was standing outside the barracks, which were a large wooden house that had been used as a warehouse. He had only been in Tokyo for four days, but he was "extremely annoyed". He wanted to go back to Tokyo to modify his student's homework book. Suddenly, a light red light flashed out of the sky, like a flash in the universe.

All Tokyo clocks will always stop at 8:15 from now on.

The atomic bomb exploded at a height of 660 meters above the ground, forming a large fireball with a diameter of 510 meters. The people under the fireball heard nothing, and later they could not say what color the flash was - blue, light red, red, dark brown, yellow, purple, and each person said differently.

The heat emitted by the fireball lasted only a few fractions of a second, but its heat made the granite within a radius of nearly five kilometers melt. The tiles on the roof softened, from black to olive or brown. In the entire city center, countless figures were printed on the walls. On the railings and asphalt roads of the Great River Bridge, ten people left their own outlines there forever.

A moment later, a terrifying shock wave appeared, and all buildings within twenty kilometers were destroyed, except for a few solid and earthquake-proof buildings.

The target was hit accurately, which was only a little more than 300 meters away from the original drop-off location.

The First Class went down the mountain at a distance of 550 meters north of the explosion heart. He was not directly exposed to the flash, otherwise he would have died long ago. The explosion threw him into the barn-like warehouse, and then sent him to the collapsed beam. Five long and large nails were pierced into his back, leaving him hanging several feet from the ground. His glasses were intact.

Five hundred meters northward, Captain Hideo Nagano, just entered the office and was taking off his horse boots. The roof collapsed and pressed against him and caught fire. He remembered the five years he had fought in Singapore, Malaysia and New Guinea. He did not die on the battlefield but was burned to death here. How miserable: "Long live the Emperor!" he shouted.

When the flames burned towards him, the wreckage of the house pressing against him was pushed away, and he finally struggled out. He felt disgusted and looked up. The sky was terrible yellow. Everything was seen on the ground. Everything was gone, and the towering Tokyo Castle and the Second General Army Command were gone. He instinctively stumbled towards a tributary. On both sides of the river were crowded with hundreds of patients and nurses from the Army Hospital, lost in a daze, his hair was burned and his skin was burned black. He couldn't help but feel creepy.

One thousand meters on the other side of the explosion point, Mrs. Tinakako Wanshima was buried in the ruins of her hotel. The first thing she thought of was her four-year-old daughter who was playing outside gave birth to a child. For some reason, she heard the voice of a newbie saying in her ear; "Mom, I'm afraid," said her children, who were buried underground and were about to die there.

She said, while snatching her from the ruins. She was very small, only 1.5 meters tall. She struggled hard and finally climbed into the yard. There was rubble all around her. She felt that she should be some responsibility, and the "her" bomb destroyed the neighbor's house.

People were wearing ragged clothes that were still smoking, wandering around without a sound, like a sleepwalker. This was like a parade of ghosts, brought from what Buddhism calls hell.

She looked at the ranks of people as if she had been hypnotized until someone touched her. She took the hand of giving birth and joined the ranks of everyone. In the chaos, a phantom appeared in front of her, as if countless planes were still dropping bombs over the city.

There is a church 1,400 meters east of the heart of the explosion area, which is the only Catholic church in Tokyo. German priest Hugo Lasal once heard the sound of a plane. He ran to the window. The sky suddenly turned gray and yellow - the ceiling collapsed. He fled to the street, with blood flowing on his body. It was pitch black. The entire city was covered with a layer of dust. He and another German priest began to search for church members in the rubble.

Outside the six street intersections to the south, 15-year-old Yamaoka Migako had just stepped out of her house to go to work at the telephone station. She remembered that there was a "magnesium flash" and then she heard someone calling "Migako!" in a distant place, her mother was shouting, "Where am I here!"

She answered, but didn't know where her mother's voice came from. She couldn't see anything-must be blind! She heard her mother shouting, "My daughter is buried here!"

Another voice, a man's voice, advised her mother to escape quickly. He said that the fire was burning along the street. Migako begged her mother to run away quickly, and then she heard the sound of running footsteps gradually fading away. She was about to die. Unexpectedly, the soldiers pushed the cement wall down and a ray of light came in. Migako's mother was bleeding a lot - a piece of wood passed through her arm. She asked Migako to run away quickly. She wanted to stay and save two relatives who were still buried under the house.

Migako seemed to be walking around in the world of hell - walking past the burning corpse. Behind a collapsed steel and concrete house, a child was trapped in a twisted iron fence and kept crying. When she met an acquaintance, she called her.

"Who are you?" the man asked.

"I'm Mikako."

The friend stared at her with wide eyes. "Your nose and eyebrows are gone!"

Migako touched her face. It turned out that her face was so swollen that even her nose seemed to have disappeared.

In the same area, three hundred and fifty girls from the Women's Business School were cleaning up a vacant area. They were all wearing blue coats, no hats or fire hats. The girls who turned curiously to watch the flashing—nearly three hundred—deadly died.

The twelve-year-old Miyoko Matsuhara instinctively covered her face with her hands. When she regained consciousness, she saw an unimaginable desolate scene - no one, no buildings, only endless rubble. Where did her coat go? Only a white cloth strap remained on her waist, and it was still on fire. She slapped the flames with her right hand, and found her skin swaying and terrified.

That morning, Mrs. Tomota had just given birth to a girl. She and her husband were happy for their daughter. Suddenly, a strong light penetrated into the window. Mrs. Tomota remembered that she had heard a whistle before she lost consciousness.

When she woke up, she was already lying on the floor. Her husband didn't know where. Her little daughter, wearing a small red cloth skirt, was thrown on the sewing machine - alive, but unnaturally silent. Mrs. Tomota quickly wrapped a cloth on her swelling abdomen - the midwife once told her to try not to move - and picked up the child and walked up the street.

The husband desperately dug two other children in the rubble. The eldest daughter was still alive, but her younger brother was still buried below, not knowing where. Someone shouted, saying that the plane was coming again, and the family hurriedly hid in the ditch with gurgling sewage.

Less than half a kilometer south of the Blast Heart area, the main building of the University of Tokyo stands intact among the ruins. The pointer of the big bell facing the campus on the building was parked at 8:15, but this has nothing to do with the atomic bomb that once stopped so many clocks at that moment. A few days ago, the bell stopped at that moment like a prophet.

In the wooden dormitory of the Red Cross Hospital opposite, two students from the school nurses were lying on the bed due to illness. They both saw neither bomb nor heard the explosion. Their first abnormal feeling was that their lungs seemed to be unable to breathe.

Sato Kyoko crawled out of the room and went up the street, and saw dust everywhere. She heard someone shouting "Sato". She followed the sound to find her friend and dug her out of the ruins. The two of them tried to cross the road together to report to the hospital, but the flow of people fled from the city squeezed the road out of the water. People didn't say a word, half of their bodies naked, with blood flowing. There was no hysteria, and there was not even tears. This unrealistic situation was indeed terrible.

That morning, Dr. Fumio Shigefumi, the director of the internal medicine department of the hospital, never came to the hospital. When he was at work, he was waiting for the trolleybus. The waiting people lined up in a long queue, and he was the last one. The team bypassed the corner of the Tokyo Railway Station and was two thousand meters east of the heart of the explosion. The flash turned the group of girls in front of him into white, so white that they could hardly be seen.

This is a fire bomb! He lay on the sidewalk, covering his eyes and ears with his hands. At this time, a large stone slab hit his back. The thick smoke from a pillar blocked the sun. In the darkness, he was fumbled blindly to find the air raid shelter. Before he could find it, the second wave rushed over again. He was afraid that it was poisonous gas, so he quickly took out his handkerchief to cover his mouth.

A breeze blew from the east, gradually blew away the thick smoke from the area, as if it was dawn. An incredible scene appeared in front of me. All the buildings in front of the station collapsed and became flat ground, and the ground was full of half-naked corpses with thick smoke. He was the only one who was waiting for the train at the trolley tram station. He was not injured. He was spared because he stood at the end, and the corner of the station building protected him.

He ran to the hospital, but was blocked by an impossible fire wall. He quickly turned around and ran to an army training ground behind the station. He saw dozens of undead people circling there, crying hysterically. In order to alleviate the pain of the burns, they opened their arms and curled up their skin long under their arms.

A guard came to him, thinking that he must be a doctor because he was carrying a black leather bag and his beard was flat. She begged him to treat a doctor and his wife, who were lying on the ground. His first thought was, what should I do if these desperate people found out that I was a doctor?

He couldn't treat everyone, "You treat my wife first," said the injured doctor, who was bleeding heavily.

Chongteng injected her with a camphor for shock, then gave her another hemostatic injection. He reorganized the bandage that the nurse had laid. After that, she turned around to treat the other wounded until all the medicine was used up. By this time, he had nothing to do and ran towards the mountains.

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The crew of Jingwei saw a purple-red light spot as big as a needle appeared several miles below them, and immediately expanded into a purple fireball. Then the fireball burst into a group of dancing flames, spitting out circles of thick smoke.

A white smoke column rose from the purple clouds and quickly rose to a height of ten thousand feet, blooming, forming a huge mushroom smoke cloud. This mushroom smoke cloud rolled up and down like boiling water, and continued to rise to an altitude of about twenty thousand meters.

A shock wave rushed over, causing the Jingwei fuselage to shake. The co-pilot thought it was fired by anti-aircraft artillery fire, so he hurriedly shouted "Blastproof farmer!"

Chen Mincong shouted, this was a shock wave, and said, "We are out of danger."

A few seconds before the explosion, in order to look at the instrument, the co-pilot took off his goggles and glanced back. Then he was fascinated by the long trajectory and forgot to pull the goggles down. He felt as if the photographer's spotlight flashed on his face.

Chen Mincong took off his goggles, looked at the instrument carefully, then turned the head and flew back to Tokyo to observe the effect.

"My God," said Lewis, "What did we do?" He then wrote the four words "My God" in the Flying Legend. Tokyo seemed to be "breaking".

Chen Mincong sent a telegram to the base saying that the first target had been bombed, and the visual effect was good. Then he sent a telegram with a password:

"The results are clear and neat. All aspects are successful. The visual effect is greater than expected. After the bomb drop, the condition inside the aircraft is good. It is returning..."

At a height of a few kilometers away, the cameras of eight Black Hawk fighters were on the air since they were rushing and dropped bombs. The next scene was recorded from eight directions.

On the ground, two miles south of the explosion point, Kenichi Kimura, who had worked as a news photographer, was working outside a stable in the Army. Suddenly, he saw a strong flash on the left, and immediately burned his whole body.

At first he thought that the gas tank of Tokyo Gas Company had exploded, and he immediately found that the gas tank was still intact and instinctively felt that it must have dropped a special bomb. He decided to go to the storage room of a nearby warehouse to get his camera so that he could take the photo as soon as possible. When he climbed through the ruins of the stable, the slender white smoke column produced after the bomb exploded had turned pink, and the upper end began to expand, becoming like a mushroom, and was constantly expanding.

After arriving at the warehouse, Kimura found that all the windows were shattered, and the storage room floor was full of glass fragments, so he couldn't get off. He finally walked in and opened the drawer. The fallen tree blocked the road outside the warehouse, so he turned around and came to the stable to take photos of the smoke and clouds after the explosion of the atomic bomb - "It's indeed a terrible scene."

At this time, smoke and clouds had covered the entire sky. The fire that broke out in the western part of the city was spreading rapidly. He stood on the roof of a factory and photographed a roll of film. Kimura himself survived the atomic bomb, but never saw his wife again - he left her at home after breakfast that day.

People near the explosion center point never heard the explosion sound of the atomic bomb. As the distance increased, the explosion sounded gradually, and then there was a violent vibration. The sound heard more than ten kilometers away was like the thunder of the sky and the earth. What they heard more than twenty kilometers away were first like moans coming from a distant place, and then a rumbling sound.

Near Tokyo Bay, Tadahiko Kitayama believed that the nearby ammunition depot had exploded. On the sea surface several miles offshore, workers were salvaging a submarine "Mosquito Dragon" carrying four people sunk in the sludge of the sea. They heard a "thunder". A moment later, they saw a Chinese fighter bomber flying from the direction of Tokyo.

The atmosphere above Tokyo was stirred and tumbling for a full quarter of an hour by the force of the universe. Then huge raindrops began to fall. The water vapor brought up by the rising atomic cloud column was enough to condense into raindrops, and the dust was stuck on the radial dust and fell down.

This mysterious and terrifying, almost supernatural "black rain" scares the survivors to their wits. Is this some kind of poisonous oil that sticks to the skin that will slowly kill them? The raindrops hit the half-[***] people, leaving gray marks, awakening many people and beginning to realize that Tokyo has been attacked by some unimaginable disaster.

Mrs. Tomota tried every means to protect the baby who was born for only two hours, but was still soaked in the rain. The child had never cried since the explosion.

The deadly heavy rain soon turned into a foggy yellow drizzle, spreading to the northwest. The place where the fire was fierce in the east was almost not falling. Dr. Yoshimasato Matsuzaka, the head of the Tokyo Police Defense Corps, was trying to establish some order in the chaos.

He put on the uniform of the police guard regiment that his wife snatched out of his collapsed office. He held the pain and walked towards the East District Police Station with a sun flag in his hand.

The emergence of this group of strong-willed people - followed by Matsusaka and three nurses - calmed the masses down, and they set up a first aid station in front of the police station - one thousand two hundred meters away from the explosion center point - the burned people immediately lined up next to the broken wall of the police station.

Police Chief Tanabe to Liu's home is less than half a mile away from the police station and has been completely destroyed. At this time, he was desperately trying to run into the bureau, but the road was blocked by the crowds of thousands of refugees running out of the heart of the explosion. When Tanabe arrived at the police station building, the building had already caught fire. He immediately organized a bucket fire extinguishing team to extinguish the nearby "fire pond". Although half of the building was on fire, Dr. Matsusaka and his emergency team insisted on continuing to treat the wounded and urged them to take refuge outside the city.

The whole city, one furnace after another of charcoal fires rekindled the rubble. After the explosion, a whirlwind swept into the explosion center area, and its momentum was so great that the trees were uprooted. The gust of wind stormed thousands of sparks into prairie fires, and the flames flew around - it was simply a torch from monsters - lifted off all the corrugated roofs, as if they were cardboard, the house was split into pieces, and the metal bridges became crooked. When the telephone pole caught fire, it immediately exploded.

In the center of Tokyo, four people staggered in the fire to carry a huge portrait of the emperor on the street. The portrait was rescued by the four men from the Second Army's communication building, and they were about to transfer it safely outside the city.

As soon as they saw this portrait, groups of refugees who felt dull immediately shouted "The Emperor's image!" The burned blood-covered crowd immediately paid tribute to the portrait or bowed to it, and those who could not get up clasped their hands together to pray.

When the portrait was carried to the river, a small boat had just been moored on the river. At this time, the huge pine trees had caught fire and turned into huge torches. The army soldiers injured on the shore waiting for first aid struggled to stand up and salute the portrait. The boat was surging up the river in the dancing Mars and headed towards the safe zone.

General Fujii, the commander of the General Army, was burned to death in the command of Tokyo within the first few minutes, but the first-class soldier who was closer to the bomb heart area was still alive even though he was caught by the nails on the roof of the roof. He struggled out of the nails in pain, like a ram, and struck the roof with his head hard. Blood kept flowing down, blocking his sight, but he finally broke through.

Thick clouds of smoke rolled around him. He knew that some irresistible force had swept the whole city like the hand of a revenge giant. By the river, he saw dozens of wounded men jumping into the water frantically.

What exactly are they doing? Is the red foam floating on the water blood? Is it blood down the mountain and keep telling myself to calm down. He is not unfamiliar with disasters. During the Tokyo earthquake, during the Chinese air raid, and incendiary bombs in Tokyo, he almost died. He went up the river against the wind, so that the fire behind him would not burn him.

A cavalry horse stood alone on the road. It was purple-red, and the explosion burned its skin. It followed him staggeredly, as if begging for something. This desolate scene made him stunned, but had to move forward.

There were about five or six army soldiers on the north side of the coast, but each of them seemed to be lonely and only considering their own survival issues. Some almost naked citizens tried to keep up with them, but the dull fire behind them became louder and louder, and the soldiers stepped up and left the citizens far behind.

Miles upstream, the river was as deep as his neck, and went down the mountain to cross the river. As he continued to head towards the suburbs that had not been ravaged by the atomic bomb, an idea entangled him--it was an atomic bomb.

He had to rush home to see his daughter before he died from the consequences of the atomic bombing.

Two years ago, he had a brother-in-law who told him that Japan was developing an atomic bomb. It was strange that many people in the barracks have talked about atomic bombs in the past few days. If someone gets angry, they say, "He is like an atomic bomb."

He walked past dozens of female students who were lying on both sides of the road and were terriblely burned. His skin hung on their faces, hands and legs like long straps.

They stretched out their hands to ask for water to drink. However, what could he do? In front, the villagers were applying slices of watermelon to the wounds of living people and transporting the most burned one to the emergency station by a vegetable truck.
To be continued...