Courtyard House: Home Alone

The engines roared low, and the tracks screeched as they rolled over the ground. Though they did not move forward, they resembled steel monsters poised to pounce, aiming their cannons at the silent hillsides and ravines.

The gunners stared intently at their scopes, their fingers on the triggers, ready to fire without hesitation at the slightest sign of trouble.

Soon, several muffled and loud artillery shots broke the brief lull in the battlefield, which was filled only with screams and sporadic gunfire. "Boom! Boom! Boom!" Tank guns and armored vehicle cannons began to indiscriminately bombard the suspected areas in front and to the sides.

The shells, trailing sharp whistles, crashed into the forest, kicking up huge plumes of dust and mud. Trees were snapped in half, and rocks were scattered everywhere.

In an instant, the once-hidden forest was shrouded in smoke and dust, as if it had been plowed over. Okamura Neiji stood inside the armored vehicle, looking out at the scene of continuous artillery fire through the observation window, his face showing no sign of relief.

He knew this was a last resort; the enemy was exceptionally cunning and might not be intimidated by such indiscriminate artillery fire. But he had to make a show of force, trying to suppress the enemy with overwhelming firepower, buy time for the infantry to assemble, and regain some initiative.

He clenched his fists, his heart filled with anxiety and anger. Since this unit set foot on Chinese soil, it had never suffered such a frustrating and bizarre attack.

Meanwhile, Lin Yifan, under the control of teleportation and mental power, was constantly reaping the lives of the Japanese soldiers.

Looking at the Japanese artillerymen busily firing blindly in all directions from their positions, his heart ached. These spendthrifts! These shells were his spoils of war; how could they squander them like this!

Lin Yifan's eyes sharpened; he couldn't let them waste ammunition so recklessly any longer.

He teleported to the middle of the tank and artillery positions, his mental energy forming an invisible net that instantly covered the tanks, armored vehicles, and various types of artillery that were frantically unleashing shells.

What he had to do was to preserve these precious "spoils of war" intact. With a slight thought, the shells that had just been loaded into the breech, and even those that were ready to fire, along with the shells in the breech, were silently transferred to his static storage.

"What's going on?! Where's the shell?!" A tank gunner was preparing to fire again when he was horrified to find the gun barrel empty, as if the heavy shell had never existed.

"Report, Commander! The breech is empty! I've already loaded it!" The gunner's voice trembled with disbelief.

"Baka! Useless! Load again!" the commander roared in the turret, but when the loader frantically opened the ammunition compartment, he found that most of the shells that were originally neatly stacked inside were now gone, with only a few scattered in the corner, as if they had been stolen by an invisible hand.

"Tank... Commander... Ammunition compartment... The shells in the ammunition compartment are gone too!" The loader's voice was filled with fear, and he was almost crying.

Similar scenes played out on every tank, armored vehicle, and artillery position. The steel behemoths that were roaring just moments before fell silent in the blink of an eye.

The gunners frantically checked the breech and ammunition compartment, while the tank commanders cursed angrily, but could find no reason why.

They had never encountered anything so bizarre—shells vanishing into thin air? It was completely beyond their comprehension. Then, one after another, the artillerymen fell to the ground.

Through his binoculars, Okamura Neiji saw the tank formation ahead suddenly cease firing. The previously suspicious area, filled with the incessant gunfire, fell silent instantly, save for the sporadic, aimless sounds of rifles. A sense of foreboding washed over him, and he demanded sharply, "What's going on? Why did you stop firing?!"

The communications soldier frantically fiddled with his communicator, turning back pale-faced: "Commander...unable to contact...reports from all tank units...their shells...the shells have mysteriously disappeared!"

"Baka yarou!" Okamura Neiji nearly fainted. The shells were gone? What kind of absurdity was this?! He slammed his fist against the inner wall of the armored vehicle, making a dull thud, his eyes filled with bloodshot veins and incredulous rage. "Investigate! Investigate thoroughly! What exactly happened?!"

Lin Yifan wouldn't give them time to "find out" the problem. With the artillery threat dealt with, it was time to deal with the infantry who were still putting up a stubborn resistance.

A cold smile played on his lips as he extended his mental energy once more, launching an indiscriminate attack on the Japanese soldiers within his domain.

And so, amidst their constant deaths, the Japanese soldiers slowly retreated, withdrawing from the blast radius and quickly constructing makeshift defensive fortifications around the area.

By then, it had gotten dark, and the casualty reports from each unit were handed to Okamura Neiji. As he looked at the statistical report in his hand, his vision blurred.

In just half a day, the 20th Division suffered more than 8,000 casualties, with more than 6,000 deaths. Such a high death rate was something he had never seen since he joined the army, and it was truly shocking!

More than six thousand imperial warriors fell on this unfamiliar land without even seeing a trace of the enemy.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to steady himself, and glanced at the staff officers and officers around him who also had solemn expressions. His voice was hoarse as he said, "The casualty figures... are confidential for now. The soldiers cannot know the specific numbers, lest it shake morale."

He paused, a resolute glint in his eyes, and ordered, "The entire army shall rest on the spot tonight, strengthen vigilance, and guard against enemy night attacks."

Tomorrow morning, have the 23rd Brigade stationed in Tianjin detach an entire infantry regiment and medical detachment to come and support us. We must find these bastards and avenge the fallen Imperial warriors!

Night fell like a giant black cloth, slowly enveloping the entire battlefield. The smoke gradually dissipated, leaving behind a heavy stench of blood and gunpowder in the air.

The forests on both sides of the highway were eerily quiet, with only the occasional faint groan of a wounded soldier, which would soon fall silent again.

Lin Yifan hid in a bunker not far from the Japanese soldiers, his mental energy covering a small part of the Japanese camp like a radar.

He could clearly "see" the Japanese soldiers digging trenches, setting up machine guns, and deploying sentries around the camp. The entire camp was heavily guarded, like a hedgehog that had been frightened and curled up into a ball.

He kept teleporting around the camp, spending two hours thoroughly investigating the Japanese camp's ammunition depot, supply depot, stables, vehicle parking areas, command post, and other locations.