Bright Sword: I built Italian cannons for Li Yunlong

Zhou Zhen immediately instructed the soldiers to properly store the gas masks and noted down the information, preparing to report it to Li Yunlong and the brigade headquarters as soon as he returned.

As Zhou Zhen walked out of the warehouse, his gaze was drawn to the trucks parked on the open ground at the town entrance.

It was a Japanese transport truck, its tires blown off by a grenade, and it was parked there crookedly.

At that moment, an idea instantly took shape.

"Battalion Commander Zhang!" he shouted to Zhang Dabiao, who was directing the movement of heavy machine guns.

Zhang Dabiao wiped his sweat and ran over: "Advisor Zhou, what's up?"

Zhou Zhen pointed at the truck: "Quickly, send people to remove all the tires from the truck, including the spare tire. Don't forget any of them."

"Tires?" Zhang Dabiao was taken aback, looking at the rubber wheels that had been blown to pieces.

"That thing is so heavy, and it smells like burning rubber. What's the use? It's too much smoke even when burned as firewood."

"It works!" Zhou Zhen said quickly, his eyes gleaming.

"Burning rubber produces a lot of thick smoke and toxic gases, which are ten times more pungent than the smoke from burning wood."

"If we can turn it into powder or fragments, mix it into our Molotov cocktails, and throw it into the bunkers and pillboxes, the Japanese soldiers inside will either be burned to death or suffocated by the thick smoke."

Zhang Dabiao's eyes widened suddenly, and he slapped his forehead: "I understand."

He immediately organized a team to begin dismantling it, but as he walked to the side, he couldn't help but mutter, "Advisor Zhou is ruthless enough. This Molotov cocktail is already so powerful, and he still isn't satisfied. I'll never mess with Advisor Zhou again!"

A dozen soldiers immediately rushed to the truck and began to remove the tires with bayonets and crowbars.

Zhou Zhen walked around the truck again, his gaze sweeping over every component.

"And these too," he instructed. "Take away all the parts that can be removed, including the wiring, the dashboard in the driver's cab, and the rearview mirrors."

"Especially that!" He pointed under the hood, "The battery! Carefully remove it, be careful not to bump it, I need it very much!"

Although the soldiers didn't quite understand the specific purpose of these "junk" items, they didn't hesitate at all because of their almost blind trust in Advisor Zhou.

Soon, the two trucks were almost completely dismantled, and all the metal, rubber, and wires that could be removed were collected.

A young soldier looked at the bare frame of the vehicle, scratched his head and laughed, "Advisor Zhou, you really are... leaving not even a bone fragment for the Japanese."

"Should we take this bike frame back as well?"

Zhou Zhen was amused: "The frame is too big to take with me."

By the time the sun had fully risen, the team was ready to leave.

The captured supplies were so numerous that, apart from the weapons and ammunition carried by the soldiers, they were mainly transported by horses.

Hundreds of warhorses and packhorses formed a long procession, a truly magnificent sight.

Zhou Zhen rode a docile Japanese horse and glanced back at Wanjia Town.

In the morning light, the town quieted down, with only the two smoking bunkers standing out like scars.

The horse caravan, laden with supplies, stretched out in a long line along the mountain road, each soldier wearing a tired yet satisfied expression.

The battle at Wanjia Town was a resounding success, yielding a substantial haul. More importantly, the power of the Molotov cocktails gave everyone confidence.

Zhou Zhen, mounted on his horse, still held the notebook in his hand recording the effects of the Molotov cocktails, constantly devising improvement plans in his mind.

"Bang! Bang bang—!"

Several sudden gunshots interrupted his train of thought.

The ranks froze instantly, every soldier instinctively seeking cover, their movements swift and silent. The warhorses, trained to be so, didn't neigh, only snorted uneasily.

Several more gunshots rang out, interspersed with faint sounds of explosions.

"It's a Japanese melon-shaped grenade." Kong Jie lowered his voice, his brows furrowed. Another Type 38 rifle, and... a Type 99? Damn it, how come there are Japanese troops around here?"

"Judging from the noise, there aren't many people, but they are definitely regular Japanese troops."

"Signal specialist, bring me the map."

"Commander, map." The communications soldier ran over quickly and handed over the map.

Kong Jie opened the map and, based on the distance of the gunshots, roughly marked an area on the map.

Zhou Zhen leaned closer and saw that there was a small village marked there, called Yangshugou.

Zhang Dabiao leaned closer, his eyes sharp: "Commander Kong, what should we do? Besides the Japanese gunfire, there's also the sound of homemade guns... Could it be the civilians resisting?"

Kong Jie's gaze fell upon the ravine from which the gunshots had come. He clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and made a swift decision: "Zhang Dabiao!"

"Here!" Zhang Dabiao ran over from Zhou Zhen.

"You, take the guard squad and transport team, escort Advisor Zhou and all supplies, and return to the base immediately according to the original plan, without a moment's delay," Kong Jie ordered decisively.

"Yes, sir!" Zhang Dabiao stood at attention, but then looked in the direction of the gunfire. "Commander Kong, what about you guys..."

"I'll take a company over there to check it out." Kong Jie grabbed the large sword leaning against the earthen embankment. "If things don't look good, we'll retreat. Your mission is to ensure the absolute safety of Advisor Zhou and the supplies. Execute orders!"

"yes!"

Kong Jie turned to Zhou Zhen, who had already walked over, and waved his hand in an unquestionable manner: "Advisor Zhou, you go with Da Biao."

"But..." Zhou Zhengang began.

"No buts." Kong Jie said sternly, a rare occurrence. "We are soldiers, this is our livelihood."

"But you're different!" His tone softened. "You have to live, live well, and stay in the rear. Use your brain to create more useful weapons. That's where you belong."

After saying that, he didn't give Zhou Zhen a chance to speak again.

With a wave of his hand.

"First Company, move lightly equipped, run forward."

The soldiers of the company quickly unloaded unnecessary loads, carrying only weapons and ammunition, and followed behind Kong Jie, soon disappearing from sight.

Zhou Zhen was half-carried and half-pulled back to the horse team by Zhang Dabiao and his guards.

"Advisor Zhou, Deputy Commander Kong is right. The battlefield is dangerous, and you can't take risks," Zhang Dabiao explained while urging the cavalry to speed up.

Zhou Zhen was practically half-carried back to the middle of the transport team by Zhang Dabiao and two guards.

He opened his mouth, but found that his throat was blocked by something, and he couldn't make a sound.

Reason told him that Kong Jie's decision was right; as a time traveler, he could only realize his greatest value by staying alive.

Moreover, given his marksmanship, he would be a burden if he went.

but……

A burning, oppressive feeling was pressing down on my chest, and no matter how much I tried to comfort myself, I still felt like a "deserter."

Kong Jie led his men up a hillside, and the scenery of Yangshugou came into view.

It was a typical northern mountain village, with dozens of mud-brick houses scattered in the valley.

At this moment, several plumes of black smoke floated in the sky above the village, and several corpses lay on the ground at the village entrance—judging from their clothes, they were villagers.

About seventy Japanese soldiers dressed in khaki uniforms were chasing several villagers who were fleeing up the hillside.