Courtyard House: Home Alone

Those Japanese soldiers who tried to rush towards the machine gun position had only taken a few steps when Lin Yifan locked onto them one by one as easily as taking candy from a baby.

He didn't even need to aim deliberately; with his superhuman dynamic vision and reaction speed, the bullets in the stationary warehouse were like venomous snakes with eyes, accurately piercing their chests.

Some soldiers had just grasped the cold barrel of the machine gun, and before they could even pull the bolt, their bodies jolted violently, and they fell into pools of blood with disbelief on their faces.

Some, however, suddenly lost their footing while running, staggered a few steps, and collapsed with a thud, the blood seeping from their backs quickly staining the ground beneath them.

The machine gun emplacement was so close, yet it became a death trap that these soldiers could never reach. Their bodies lay scattered along the path to the emplacement, becoming obstacles that prevented those who followed from reaching it.

The entire military camp was already shrouded in the shadow of death. The surviving soldiers fled desperately amidst the dense gunfire and the constant explosions, like headless flies.

Lin Yifan strolled through the chaotic camp as if walking in a garden. His mental energy constantly scanned every corner, and no enemy who tried to hide or put up a stubborn resistance could escape his perception.

A Japanese lieutenant, trembling in the corner of a tent, had just mustered the courage to raise his gun to fire when a bullet that appeared out of nowhere pierced his forehead, splattering blood and brain matter all over the canvas behind him.

Several sergeants who were trying to organize a breakout team had just run out of the camp gate when they were accurately hit by grenades that Lin Yifan projected from space, blowing them and the soldiers around them to pieces.

The air was thick with the pungent smells of gunpowder, blood, and acrid burning. The ground beneath their feet was soaked in blood, becoming muddy and sticky. Lin Yifan's figure flashed in and out of the firelight and darkness, each appearance accompanied by the screams and falls of enemies. His movements were relentless and merciless, like a highly efficient killing machine, carrying out the judgment of the invaders. This once heavily guarded regimental outpost had now become a living hell.

The piercing cries, desperate wails, sporadic and futile gunshots, and continuous explosions intertwined, creating a final elegy for the invaders.

Lin Yifan's eyes remained icy, and the "gun" in his hand seemed to never stop. Every slight thought he had meant the end of a Japanese soldier's life.

He was like a harvester reaping ripe wheat, leaving behind only death and bloodshed in his wake.

Soon, the resistance in the entire camp became so weak as to be negligible.

Most of the Japanese soldiers had perished in the initial explosion and subsequent precise shooting. The few survivors had completely lost their will to fight, either collapsing to the ground trembling or hiding in corners, too afraid to utter a sound.

Lin Yifan gave them no chance to survive. His mental power swept over every tent and every cover like a searchlight. He showed no mercy to those enemies who laid down their weapons or lost the ability to resist.

In his view, being merciful to the invaders was being cruel to one's own people.

After clearing out the last few remaining soldiers from the last hidden corner, Lin Yifan stood in the center of the camp on the training ground stained red with blood, slightly out of breath.

The strong, pungent smell of blood in the air was almost nauseating, but he had long been accustomed to it.

Apart from the crackling of burning tents and the occasional dying groan from afar, no other sounds could be heard from the entire military camp.

He single-handedly slaughtered almost all of the more than 2,800 Japanese soldiers, from the regimental commander to ordinary soldiers.

He glanced at his watch; it was already 11 p.m. "There's still time," Lin Yifan muttered to himself, a hint of weariness flashing in his eyes, but more so a cold satisfaction of completing the mission and the thrill of slaughtering the Japanese soldiers.

Without pausing, he used his mind to store some seemingly usable weapons and ammunition back into his spatial storage—though he couldn't use them himself, they might be left to the troops that were truly fighting the Japanese in the future.

After doing all this, he took one last look at the military camp that had been turned into a battlefield, and after confirming that nothing was missing, he got into one of the trucks he had left behind and sped off towards the Japanese regimental garrison in the eastern suburbs, more than 20 kilometers away.

That will be his second target tonight, and the next stop in his "great cleanup" of Beiping. The Japanese soldiers in the eastern suburbs won't live to see tomorrow's sun either.

The truck sped through the night, its tires screeching over the dirt road, the sound carrying far in the quiet night.

Lin Yifan turned off the truck's headlights and easily avoided obstacles on the road by using his mental power to detect them.

Those scattered checkpoints were useless against his powerful mental strength; they were silently dealt with before anyone could react, and their bodies were simply thrown onto the truck.

The night wind blew in through the car window, carrying the scent of earth and grass, slightly dispelling the stench of blood clinging to him. But Lin Yifan's eyes remained sharp as an eagle's, showing no sign of relaxation.

He knew that the regiment in the eastern suburbs might have more troops than the one he had just wiped out, and after the successive attacks from Xiyuan, Nanyuan, and just now, they might be even more vigilant.

Although he has absolute confidence, any carelessness could lead to unnecessary trouble, so he must maintain peak performance.

The mental energy, like invisible tentacles, continuously extended forward to probe. The closer they got to the Japanese army regiment's garrison in the eastern suburbs, the clearer the faint sounds of noise and the outlines of lights became.

Unlike the previous regiment, this regiment in the eastern suburbs seemed to be much larger, with a wider camp area. It was brightly lit, and the figures of patrol teams could be vaguely seen moving around the edge of the camp. The number of people and the density were not small.

"So they really have increased security?" Lin Yifan sneered inwardly, lightly tapping the brakes as the truck slowly came to a stop in a secluded grove of trees about a kilometer from the military camp.

He didn't choose to drive in directly, as that would make him too conspicuous and easily alert the enemy. For such a large military camp, stealth infiltration remains the most efficient and least risky method.

He threw the Japanese soldiers' corpses off the truck to the roadside, put the truck into his spatial storage, and then, like a raccoon dog, silently darted into the woods, stealthily heading towards the military camp.

The dense forest provided him with excellent cover, and his figure moved among the trees like a spirit that blended into nature, without making a single unnecessary sound.

Approaching the outer perimeter of the military camp, Lin Yifan lay in hiding again, using his mental power to carefully investigate.

The layout of this regiment's camp was much the same as the previous one, with guard towers, machine gun emplacements, patrol teams, and antennas dotting the communications room.

The difference is that the patrols here seem to be more frequent, and the soldiers' faces are more alert, clearly indicating that they have received some kind of order or sensed a tense atmosphere.

"It seems they've received the orders from the North China Expeditionary Army Headquarters as well," Lin Yifan speculated. "They're going to enter Beiping City early tomorrow morning to strengthen its defenses, so they naturally need to be extra careful tonight."