The War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression Begins in Songhu

Chapter 508 That Japanese Soldier Must Die (Two-in-One Chapter)

"So that's why I had such a strong sense of crisis on the way here."

It felt like being stared at by a tiger; my heart was pounding with fear.

Furthermore, how could this attack force of less than thirty people possess such formidable combat power and inflict such heavy losses on us?
And how did the Independent Mixed Brigade 2 suddenly begin to shrink its forces and lose all contact?

Why did the Nationalist Army, the Eighth Route Army, and the Northern Jiangsu Independent Regiment suddenly launch a large-scale operation? In particular, why did the Northern Jiangsu Independent Regiment send out all its forces and charge madly towards Yi County?
Hu Biao, originally known as the "Tiger of Shanghai," and his companions, lived in Yi County.

That makes sense, it makes perfect sense.

That bastard Mano Goro deserves to die! He concealed this extremely important information in order to monopolize the prisoners and the credit for killing Hu Biao.

It's fine to hide it, as long as the goal can be achieved.

Unfortunately, this bastard is also a good-for-nothing. A brigade of over six thousand men couldn't even take down a small force of a few dozen. He should immediately commit seppuku to atone for his sins.

No! This kind of bastard doesn't deserve to lose in such a samurai way.

Like the legendary Xianglin's Wife, Gangcun Ningci muttered to himself incessantly.

Even though he was wearing a gas mask, which made his muttering sounds somewhat distorted, it didn't affect his incessant chatter, which he had maintained for quite some time.

Specifically, it happened a minute or two ago.

As he faintly heard the excited shouts of his men, as if they had been injected with chicken blood, filled with the cry of "Tiger of Shanghai," he realized that the battle was about to end.

After a great jolt, Okamura Ninji's mind was finally cleared up, and all the questions that had been puzzling him for the past few hours were answered.

At this moment, Okamura Ninji was in a pretty good mood.

At that time, he secretly lifted a bit of the canvas of the carriage to take a look at the latest battle situation.

To everyone's delight, our side has gained an absolute advantage on the battlefield, and soon Hu Biao and his men will be completely annihilated; their ambush has become a huge, hand-delivered credit.

Unfortunately, before Okamura could even feel happy for a few seconds about this achievement, he didn't even get a chance to do so.

One mishap after another happened, leaving him so frustrated he almost vomited blood.

The first one was the only truck in the convoy, carrying special ammunition, which was coincidentally hit by the enemy's grenade launcher, which detonated the fuel tank. The fuel tank explosion then detonated 2.2 tons of special ammunition inside.

Secondly, the rapidly spreading mustard gas plunged the soldiers in the convoy, who had just regained their sense of organization, into a state of great panic.

To make matters worse, amidst the rousing bugle calls of the Eighth Route Army, Hu Biao's reinforcements also appeared.

The appearance of these men crushed the last bit of fighting spirit in the soldiers, leading to a shameful rout.

Just when they could have killed Hu Biao, their most important target, with just one more charge.

Hu Biao, the guy who brought countless humiliations to the empire, actually survived.

All of the above factors greatly stimulated Gangcun Ningci, resulting in this scene of him constantly babbling like Xianglin's wife.

However, although the old Japanese soldier was extremely frustrated and kept muttering to himself, he was not too worried about his own safety.

The reason is quite simple.

On the one hand, the number of reinforcements from the Eighth Route Army was not large, only about a hundred people.

Although the soldiers guarding him and his convoy were routed, judging by their speed, the reinforcements from Zijing Pass should be able to arrive quickly.

In comparison, the reinforcements from Zijing Pass undoubtedly had higher morale, which is why they were able to reorganize the routed soldiers.

In this way, they still have an overwhelming advantage over these local guerrillas in terms of troop strength, individual soldier quality, and equipment.

I believe that after a fierce battle, we will be able to defeat the Eighth Route Army.

On the other hand, as a high-ranking figure in the Japanese army, Okamura Kyouji naturally knew what the so-called special ammunition in the convoy, namely mustard gas bombs, was and what its effects were.

This is a vesicant gas that can cause horrific damage not only through the respiratory system but also through contact with exposed skin.

To put it another way, these poisonous gases were actually a form of protection for people like Okamura Tsuji.

Because they immediately put on gas masks, buttoned up their collars, and wore white gloves, they had quite good protection.

Neither Hu Biao and his men, nor the newly arrived Eighth Route Army reinforcements, were wearing gas masks.

In Okamura Tsutomu's understanding, it was impossible for normal creatures to rush in and attack them even when they were under protection.

Because during this process, mustard gas damages the respiratory system and skin, and the inhuman suffering it causes is something that normal humans cannot endure.

Therefore, the mustard gas that spread out actually became the perfect protection to prevent their opponents from killing them.

In short, Okamura Shinji has taken the turtle-like, defensive tactics to the extreme today, and even now he has no intention of showing any signs of emerging.

Ironically, his defensive tactics were the best option for them.

Under normal circumstances, by the time the pervasive poisonous gas dissipates to a certain extent, the Japanese troops who came to support from Zijing Pass would have already organized their routed soldiers to launch a counterattack.

If Hu Biao and his men didn't want to be completely wiped out here, they would have no choice but to retreat in a very sorry state.

But what Okamura Tsuji didn't expect, or rather, couldn't understand, was...

There was no Superman in this world, nor will there ever be any Superman.

However, when some people are driven by determination and belief, they can often unleash amazing energy and achieve some miraculous feats that only superhumans can accomplish.

To put it simply, it was when Okamura Tsutomu thought that he was completely safe in this ambush because he was hiding in the mustard gas.

Old Yu, the taciturn fellow, spat out a mouthful of saliva, but his hands didn't stop moving.

He pulled a dirty towel from his collar, its original color long since obscured, opened a water bottle he was carrying, and poured half a bottle of cold boiled water onto the towel.

Then, he tied the wet towel around the back of his head, covering half of his face, including his mouth and nose.

Then, carrying a submachine gun, Lao Yu charged straight into the yellow smoke that represented death before him.

Hey! Doesn't Lao Yu know that mustard gas can cause damage through the skin in addition to the respiratory tract? His simple protection is actually quite limited in effectiveness?
As a seasoned veteran, Lao Yu had encountered the Japanese mustard gas bombs before, so how could he not know about them?

However, if we were to describe Lao Yu's current state of mind using a popular internet phrase from the last two years, it would be:

I don't care if I live or die, but that Japanese soldier must die...

*****
The yellow smoke formed by the mustard gas was still spreading rapidly. Old Yu had only rushed forward seven or eight steps before he was completely engulfed in the smoke.

Even though this is still on the periphery, the concentration of poison gas is relatively low.

But after only two or three seconds, he felt a slight itch in his throat and a faint urge to cough.

The skin on the exposed backs of his hands and fingers, as well as the upper half of his face, began to sting and itch; he had an urge to scratch it, or rather, to scratch it hard.

Even her eyes began to well up with tears without her realizing it.

Damn it! The effects and power of mustard gas are only immediate.

However, Lao Yu ignored all of the above reactions as if they hadn't happened to him. At most, he instinctively squinted his eyes to reduce the area of ​​his eyeballs exposed to the poison gas, and then continued to rush forward.

Soon after, he rushed to the back of a truck, lifted the tarpaulin, and looked inside.

They found four or five Japanese soldiers lying inside, struggling violently, their necks torn apart by their own claws.

After only one glance and realizing that these men were at most lieutenants, Lao Yu didn't even consider firing at them.

Kill them? That's not a reward for those Japanese devils.

Let these inhuman bastards enjoy their special ammunition.

Over the next few days, Lao Yu searched each carriage one by one, a process that was both incredibly simple and extremely difficult. Simple! Lao Yu encountered almost no resistance along the way.

They encountered quite a few Japanese soldiers, but they all collapsed on the ground after inhaling large amounts of poison gas, curled up and coughing wildly until their mouths were full of blood, the kind of people who could neither live nor die.

They were completely unable to harm or stop Lao Yu, and their eyes were even full of pleading as they looked at him.

They were begging Lao Yu to show some kindness and give them a quick death.

It was extremely difficult! As Lao Yu spent more and more time in the mustard gas, he moved closer and closer to the depths where the concentration of the gas became increasingly concentrated.

The damage to his body became increasingly severe, to the point that it could no longer be ignored.

The respiratory tract is fine; a damp towel can block about 60% of the particulate matter in the smoke and dust within three to four minutes.

Now, Lao Yu experiences a stinging sensation in his throat, mouth, and respiratory tract, and coughs occasionally.

This situation was difficult for Lao Yu, but he was able to overcome and persevere.

However, the injuries in other areas had reached a point where they were almost insurmountable.

For example, in a short period of time, his exposed hands and upper face were covered with dense blisters.

These bubbles, which started as tiny ones, quickly grew to the size of peanuts.

Within seconds, the peanut-sized bubbles turned red and then purple, before bursting without warning, splattering yellow and dark red liquid everywhere.

Then new blisters reappear on top of the already rotten skin and flesh.

Old Yu's eyes felt like they were being constantly pricked with needles, causing his eyeballs to itch and hurt, tears to flow continuously, and his vision to become quite blurry.

As a result, Lao Yu's vision was limited to only about ten meters away in the yellow toxic smoke.

Furthermore, all of the above situations will become more and more serious as time goes by, and even Lao Yu himself is not sure how much longer he can hold on.

Anyway, he figured there were only a minute or two left at most.

If they still can't find that important Japanese figure within this timeframe, then he too will suffer the same torment as those fallen Japanese soldiers before dying.

Half a minute later, Lao Yu finally got his reward.

When Lao Yu, coughing repeatedly and with unsteady steps, arrived at the back of another truck, his mind was becoming numb and hazy.

As he instinctively reached out and grabbed the canvas, just as he lifted it, he was jolted awake and quickly dodged to the left.

In that fleeting glance, he saw three Japanese soldiers holding Mauser pistols, their fingers already on the trigger.

No matter how fast Lao Yu dodged, he couldn't outrun the speed of a bullet. Amidst the 'bang bang' of gunfire, he was hit in the chest twice in succession.

Fortunately, the Japanese Mauser C96 pistol was originally quite limited in power; it couldn't even penetrate a wet cotton quilt.

In addition, Lao Yu was carrying a DIY bulletproof plate in his chest, which had long been proven to be effective at protecting against bullets.

Although the two shots hit Lao Yu in the chest, it felt like he had been punched twice.

But after stumbling, Lao Yu not only managed to crouch down on the side of the carriage, dodging the bullets that the Japanese soldiers kept firing from their pistols.

His face and eyes revealed a look of ecstatic joy.

Even through his tear-filled eyes, he could still see more of the situation clearly.

There were four or five Japanese soldiers hiding in the carriage. They were all wearing gas masks and white gloves, and they were all Japanese officers.

Especially the one at the very back, whose rank insignia on his collar was yellow with two stars, was actually a Japanese lieutenant general.

Even though the other party is wearing a gas mask and his face is not visible, it is impossible to know which Japanese lieutenant general he is.

In an instant, Lao Yu had a clear realization: the Japanese lieutenant general hiding in the carriage was their target.

As for why, when three Japanese soldiers fired at him just now, Lao Yu was only hit by two bullets?
What's so surprising about that? The Japanese had this kind of Mauser pistol, which was prone to jamming due to its terrible feeding mechanism. That pistol probably jammed.

Stimulated by this tremendous good news, Lao Yu's previously somewhat confused mind immediately cleared up considerably.

Taking advantage of this precious brief moment of lucidity, he, like those black men in the modern world, raised his submachine gun above his head and began firing wildly.

He didn't stop until he had emptied the magazine of bullets in one go.

He then got up and looked into the carriage, but couldn't help but curse.

In his blurry vision, the Japanese lieutenant general was completely unharmed and was currently lifting the tarpaulin, about to jump off the truck on the right and run away.

It seems that all the bullets he fired were blocked by the Japanese officers in front of him.

There wasn't time to change the magazine, so Lao Yu released the submachine gun in his hand, drew a Browning M1911 pistol from his waist, and prepared to fire.

At this crucial moment, I suddenly felt dizzy.

This physical reaction is likely a self-protective instinct mechanism, indicating that Lao Yu's body had reached its limit after prolonged exposure to toxic fumes and was about to fall into a coma.

In a panic, Lao Yu bit his lip hard, using the intense pain to bring himself back to his senses.

By this time, the Japanese lieutenant general had already jumped off the truck and fled into the deeper part of the gas field where the poison gas was more concentrated.

Seeing this, Lao Yu quickly followed after him, raising a pistol in his right hand and firing repeatedly.

If it were before, if Lao Yu still couldn't hit a target that was only seven or eight steps away, he would rather find a block of tofu and kill himself.

At that moment, his mind was spinning.

His hands and feet were as limp as cotton, and he fired several shots but missed.

Fortunately, the last bullet in the magazine hit the target by sheer luck, striking the Japanese lieutenant general in the left thigh and knocking him to the ground from behind.

Even so, the Japanese lieutenant general still struggled to get up, his will to survive was terrifyingly strong.

At that moment, Lao Yu bit his lip so hard that he tore off a small piece of flesh. With this intense pain, he regained some clarity of mind in a short time.

He quickly stepped forward and, before the Japanese lieutenant general could struggle to his feet, swung his Browning M1911 pistol and slammed it down hard on the back of his head.

One blow, two blows... On the fifth blow, the Japanese lieutenant general, his head covered in blood, collapsed to the ground once more.

Unfortunately, Lao Yu's legs also gave way and he fell to the ground. The two of them fell together on the spot, with Lao Yu landing on the Japanese soldier's back.

After falling to the ground, Lao Yu reached for a dagger on his thigh, preparing to pull it out and stab the Japanese lieutenant general in the vest.

As soon as I reached out, my throat suddenly felt strangely itchy and painful.

Old Yu was given a bout of "consumption-like" coughing, which is the kind of violent coughing that sounds like a tractor; during such coughing, his whole body went limp, and he couldn't do any movement.

To make matters worse, the Japanese lieutenant general who had been knocked down, after recovering a little, swayed like a wild boar and actually managed to throw off Old Yu who was pressing down on his back.

Then, using both arms for support on the ground, he had to get up and run away.

At this moment, as his consciousness was about to completely fade, Lao Yu made one last movement, or perhaps an effort:

Facing the Japanese lieutenant general who had just gotten up and was about to continue his escape, he stretched out his right hand like lightning and performed a "monkey stealing peach" between the general's legs.

After grabbing the small target with one hand, he used all the strength in his body to squeeze it down.

Even through the gas mask, a piercing scream still resounded with earth-shattering force.

In the time that followed, even though Lao Yu quickly lost consciousness, or even died, his right hand remained firmly attached to his body, as if welded to it, and never let go...

(End of this chapter)