Everyone around was stunned.
This was the Taijun.
He killed at will without blinking an eye.
All seven imperial troops were wiped out and the gun bolts were not even pulled open.
Handlebar Style was so frightened that he bent his legs and fell to the ground: "Hero, please spare my life, we are all members of this family."
Shuangxi shouted: "Why are you begging for mercy?
I won't kill you."
Handlebar Shi burst into tears: "You killed the Japanese, and I can't escape your involvement."
The contact person said: "The Japanese practice the continuous sitting method.
If a Japanese dies, ten Chinese people will be killed.
If the person dies somewhere, the nearest village will be massacred."
Chen Zikun thought for a moment and waved his hand: "Let's go."
The handlebar type thanked him a lot and fled in a mule cart.
Chen Zikun directed everyone to remove the equipment from the Japanese, piled the corpses in one place, and smashed open the fuel tank of a motorcycle.
Gasoline dripped all over the ground and wiped the ground.
When a match was thrown, fire shot up into the sky and ignited the body.
Chen Zikun stepped on the motorcycle and started it with a hard kick.
Shuangxi got on the other one.
The liaison man sat in the car with a machine gun and roared away.
Nantai County is where Chen Zikun made his fortune.
The road network was already very developed.
After the Japanese occupation, they forced laborers to repair the traffic and make the roads smoother and smoother.
No wonder even the Japanese troops in the county were equipped with motorcycles.
Two motorcycles were speeding on the road, and the wind was blowing on their faces, which was painful.
Fortunately, they had the confiscated goggles.
Otherwise, they wouldn't be able to open their eyes.
The wind was too strong and they couldn't open their mouths to speak.
They could only look at the contact person's face.
Gesture forward.
A squadron of Japanese soldiers was stationed in Nantai County, belonging to the Tianlu detachment.
After a year of suppression, the guerrillas had been forced into the mountainous areas, and the area within fifty miles of the county seat was basically safe.
This morning, the security chief of Shilipu came to report that something strange had been discovered in the village.
According to his description, Captain Yamada determined that it was a parachute, so he sent a team of subordinates to the site to investigate and retrieve the parachute.
Soon, the sentry on the city wall noticed black smoke outside the city.
He went out to check and found seven burnt corpses, a white shirt with blood written on it fluttering in the cold wind, and a motorcycle that was burned into remains.
Iron frame, the other two are missing.
Captain Yamada ordered everyone to assemble urgently.
A shrill siren sounded in the old county government compound.
Japanese soldiers in the brigade, wearing khaki military uniforms and suede leather shoes, rushed out of their dormitories, climbed onto cars and motorcycles, and set up machine guns.
The squadron leader, His Excellency, pulled out With a loud shout from the commander's sword, the convoy rushed out of the stronghold, rampaged through the streets, and headed west out of the county, chasing after them along the ruts of the motorcycles.
In the late autumn of Nantai, everything was bare.
The Japanese forced the common people to flatten the green gauze tents that were used to hide the guerrillas.
After the rain, the weather was clear and the visibility was extremely high.
The cars were speeding and drove fifty miles away before they knew it, and the roads became muddy. stand up.
The motorcycle driven by Chen Zikun also got stuck in the quagmire.
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The road became more and more difficult as it went west.
Near the county seat was a gravel road, and a dozen miles away was a compacted dirt road.
Further on, it was a country road like this.
The rain turns into a quagmire, and the motorcycle is stuck in and cannot be driven out.
It roars in vain, and black smoke comes out of the exhaust pipe.
Suddenly, Chen Zikun noticed a dangerous smell in the air and pulled out his two guns to alert him.
The contact person suddenly realized something and said in horror: "This is Commander Zhao's territory.
We have to leave quickly."
"Which Commander Zhao?"
Chen Zikun said suspiciously.
As soon as he finished speaking, a whistle came, and a row of gun barrels emerged from the mounds on both sides of the road.
A tall man stood on a high place like a divine soldier descending from the sky.
He was wearing a white shirt, a black double-breasted jacket, and a black waist.
Big belt, black bubble pants, leg straps, a pair of muddy straw sandals on his feet, and a railway worker's hat on his head.
He was dressed nondescriptly.
He was none other than Zhao Ziming.
"I am Commander Zhao.
I am Commander Zhao.
I have seen you a long time ago.
Please tell me who you are."
Zhao Ziming held the barrel of the long seedling shell gun against the brim of his hat and spoke in a very authentic Beijing movie style.
Chen Zikun said: "I am your uncle" Zhao Ziming took a closer look and said: "Oh my god, he is really an uncle.
Brothers, take over, it's my uncle here."
He jumped down and said with a happy face: "Uncle, you are here.
So everything, everything is fine at home, and everything is fine with the aunts."
Chen Zikun said: "Stop nagging, the Japanese are chasing after you."
Zhao Ziming said: "You dare to come to my farm.
Yamada is tired of living.
Come on, boys."
A few of the minions came down, dug a hole in the ground and began to lay mines.
They were iron lumps made of earth.
They looked big, but they were actually filled with black powder and had limited lethality.
Zhao Ziming saw several three-person mines in the side of the motorcycle.
Eight shots, almost drooling: "Uncle, how about you give me two shots."
Chen Zikun was very happy: "Take them all."
Captain Yamada raised his telescope and saw two motorcycles trudging in the distance.
The culprit who killed the imperial army was right in front of him.
The Japanese soldiers were excited and the light machine gun mounted on the truck began to fire.
The motorcycle in front opened the way.
It also speeded up.
The rural dirt road was just that wide, and the motorcycle hit the landmine without any suspense.
With a loud bang, the motorcycle was blown over, and the wheels were still spinning.
The soldiers were bloody and staggering, but they were not dead.
The power of the landmine was evident.
The truck that was following behind suddenly braked to a stop, and the machine guns on the roof fired at both sides of the road.
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The soldiers jumped down one after another and looked for cover, moving in an orderly manner.
Hand grenades flew like raindrops from both sides, including Chinese wooden-handled grenades and small Japanese-made forty-eight-petal melons, exploding into clouds of mud.
The Japanese soldiers were in stable formation and fought back calmly.
Bullets were chirping, and the two sides fought fiercely. lively.
The guerrillas had limited firepower.
Most of the long guns were old Hanyang-made or native cannons with smooth rifling.
The pistols were of limited use in field battles.
If Chen Zikun hadn't brought six captured Type 38s and a dozen leather bullet boxes filled with bullets, , this battle will be even more difficult to fight.
Chen Zikun and Zhao Ziming were both sharpshooters.
Each of them held a 38-meter gun.
They first blew out the truck tires, and then killed seven or eight people one after another.
This was the first time Chen Zikun used the 38-meter gun to fight, and he couldn't help but marvel.
This gun is so fucking easy to use.
It has very little recoil and can hit wherever you point it.
The accuracy is excellent.
After firing more than a dozen shots, Zhao Ziming pointed into the distance and said, "Uncle, the little devil wants to go around and steal our retreat."
Chen Zikun said: "You are the commander, you can do whatever you say."
Zhao Ziming said: "What else can we do?
Run."
After saying that, he put his fingers into his mouth and blew a long whistle, and then threw out a burst of grenades.
The brothers began to evacuate, leaving only a dozen people to stop them.
"Uncle, you go first, I'll cover you."
Zhao Ziming kept pulling the bolt and pulling the trigger.
The yellow bullet shells were thrown into the mud with heat, and with every shot, a little Japanese fell down.
"Be quick."
Chen Zikun had no choice but to retreat first and then followed the others into the woods.
Zhao Ziming saw that the time was almost up, threw three grenades in succession, picked up his gun and ran away like a rabbit.
When the Japanese soldiers climbed up the slope, they saw only bullet casings on the ground; there was not even a single figure.
Captain Yamada was furious: "Chase" There were messy footprints all over the muddy ground.
The Japanese soldiers chased after them.
There was a pine forest in front of them, which was perfect for an ambush.
They first lay down and fired randomly for a while, then carefully carried the guns and went in.
After searching, they still found nothing.
No trace.
"Captain Yamada, look over there," a corps commander shouted pointing into the distance.
Yamada raised his binoculars and saw an arrogant face facing him about eight hundred meters away, baring his teeth, probably laughing at the incompetence of the imperial army.
The Japanese soldiers raised their guns and fired.
Although the 38-gun had high accuracy and a long range, it could only rely on luck to target a target 800 meters away.
Let's continue chasing, but the mud ahead was deeper, and it was impossible to move forward wearing bulky braided boots.
As for the steps, my feet were covered with mud after taking only two steps, making it difficult to walk.
No one was caught, and more than a dozen people were lost.
Captain Yamada was very angry, but he had no choice.
This was a guerrilla zone, and it would be very dangerous to stay here, so he ordered the troops to withdraw back to the county.
An hour later, Zhao Ziming led the guerrillas back to the battlefield, leaving nothing behind except a car wreckage and bullet casings all over the ground.
"Dismantle" Zhao Ziming gave the order, and the team members stepped forward to disassemble the car parts.
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Chen Zikun wondered: "Are you planning to build a new car?"
Zhao Ziming said: "I don't have that ability.
Even if I try hard, I won't have any gasoline.
The car has good steel, which is best used to hit a machete."
Chen Zikun saw many team members picking up bullet casings on the ground, and he was even more puzzled: "You still use reloaded bullets?"
Zhao Ziming said: "We don't have an arsenal, but the factions are there for us."
The team members packed up all the available supplies and evacuated to a nearby village.
Zhao Ziming had people prepare meals for his uncle to eat.
They ate canned Japanese beef and drank Japanese Kirin beer.
"Don't be offended if you don't greet me well."
Zhao Ziming sat with a golden sword and raised the wine bowl boldly, quite like a father.
"Ziming, I am coming back this time to lead everyone to fight against Japan.
You can do it with me."
Chen Zikun said.
Unexpectedly, Zhao Ziming did not agree happily.
Instead, he scratched his head and looked embarrassed.
"You should give me a happy word."
Shuangxi was anxious.
"Uncle, I don't mean anything else, I'm just a person who is naturally disobedient to discipline and is a monkey."
Zhao Ziming chuckled.
Chen Zikun laughed heartily: "Okay, you have character, that's all.
I won't force you.
Do you know where Chen Shougai Longquan is?
Send me there to find them."
Zhao Ziming said: "They are doing their own thing.
They are not together yet.
They and I can't urinate in the same pot.
I will go back and find someone to send my uncle there."
Without further ado, after eating and drinking wine, Zhao Ziming arranged for ten people to escort Chen Zikun into the mountains to find Gai Longquan.
He carried a bag of bullet casings and ran off on a bay-red horse.
When he came to a ruined temple ten miles away, Zhao Ziming dismounted and walked, imitating the bird call: "Cuckoo, Cuckoo."
A young woman walked out of the dilapidated temple, with short ear-length hair, a floral cotton-padded jacket, and a leather belt that was not too tight.
She had a heroic appearance.
"Sister Xiao Wei, look what I brought you."
Zhao Ziming presented the pocket with the bullet casings in his hand as if he were offering a treasure.
"Bah, who is your sister?
Call me Nurse Ye."
The woman took the bag and looked at it, and she was extremely surprised: "Ah, there are so many bullet casings.
Political Commissar Ye will be so happy this time."
Zhao Ziming's face immediately drooped: "It's Political Commissar Ye again, so you can't mention anything else."
The woman said nonchalantly: "Why can't you mention it?
Political Commissar Ye is my brother."
Zhao Ziming said: "Stop, I can't hear this person's name.
If you mention him again, don't think about me sending you bullet casings next time."
The woman showed two white tiger teeth and smiled and said: "Okay, okay, if you don't mention it, don't mention it.
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How can I dare to make our Commander Zhao angry?"
Zhao Ziming said: "What, it's cold outside, let's go to the temple to sit for a while."
The woman said: "No, there are several wounded people here today.
We are busy.
I won't accompany you anymore.
Goodbye."
Then she turned and ran away.
Zhao Ziming looked at her retreating slender back, feeling lost.
He suddenly got on his horse, shouted: "Drive" and rode away
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