January 25th, Wang Zhong, despite the opposition from Pavlov and Popov, arrived personally at the shore of the White Sea.
When he arrived, it was already the time for sunset, and the White Sea was dyed blood-red by the setting sun.
Wang Zhong stood on the shore, suddenly longing to sing that old song: "The sun in the west is about to set, the enemy's doomsday is about to come."
Ghosts from Prosen are still ghosts; it shouldn't be a problem to sing this song.
Watching the sun gradually sinking, Ludmila came to his side, draping her coat over him: "It's windy by the sea, don't catch a cold."
Wang Zhong nodded, donned the coat properly, and looked out into the distance once more: "Ronied is in that direction! The Battleship that fired a 380mm Heavy Artillery shell at me has already been sunk by the bombs of the United Kingdom's Royal Air Force.
"I've captured over a dozen enemy generals who had attacked our country."
