Holding the original shares, they fought all the way to the Korean War!

Zhou Tianyang lay on the rocks on the north slope.

With his eyes pressed against the scope, he scanned back and forth across the bottom of the ditch with the crosshairs in the center.

His finger continued to pull the trigger.

"Bang!"

A Japanese soldier hiding under the chassis of a truck.

Only one foot was visible when the bullet struck his calf.

He screamed and rolled out from under the car.

Immediately afterwards, another bullet flew in and hit him in the head.

[Ding! One Japanese soldier killed. 5 points awarded.]

A system notification sounded in my mind.

Zhou Tianyang's lips curled up slightly.

This feeling is fucking addictive.

The system beeps once for each kill.

Each kill increases your score by one point.

Each warning tone meant the death of a Japanese soldier.

Every point he earned was earned with bullets.

Killing brings him pleasure.

This isn't perversion; this is war.

Mercy towards the enemy is irresponsible to oneself and one's comrades.

"Bang!"

Another Japanese soldier hiding behind a truck tire was hit; a bullet pierced his chest.

[Ding! One Japanese soldier killed. 5 points awarded.]

"Bang!"

A Japanese sergeant poked his head out from behind the carriage, trying to observe the firing positions on the hillside.

Less than two seconds after his head was exposed, a bullet struck him precisely in the forehead.

[Ding! One Japanese sergeant killed. 50 points awarded.]

Zhou Tianyang's shooting speed was astonishing, almost one shot per second.

When the magazine is empty, the empty magazine automatically pops out with a crisp "ding" sound.

He quickly took a new magazine from the rock, put it in the magazine, and continued firing.

Then came a continuous series of banging sounds.

He had lost count of how many magazines he had emptied.

Thirty magazines, two hundred and forty bullets, and more than half of them have already been fired.

The number of magazines on the right side of the rock is decreasing, while the number of spent cartridge cases underfoot is increasing.

Through the scope, there were hardly any Japanese soldiers left who could move at the bottom of the ditch.

Most of them were either dead or lying in pools of blood from serious injuries.

The few remaining people hid under cars or behind trucks, not daring to show their heads.

Zhou Tianyang scanned the bottom of the ditch with his crosshairs, searching for a new target.

Suddenly, his pupils contracted slightly.

He saw a Japanese soldier crawling out from under the chassis of the third truck.

His left arm appeared to be injured and was slinged over his chest.

He could only use his right hand to support himself on the ground and crawl out little by little.

But in his right hand, he was holding a grenade.

It's not an ordinary grenade; it's a Type 97 grenade.

Those grenades have a kill radius of seven or eight meters and can produce dozens of shrapnel fragments after exploding.

The Japanese soldier climbed up to the truck's fuel tank and bit the pull ring of the grenade with his teeth.

Zhou Tianyang's eyes narrowed sharply.

He's going to blow up the truck!

If that grenade explodes and ignites the truck's fuel tank, the entire truck and all the supplies on board will be destroyed!

The supplies on the truck—how many guns, how much ammunition, how much food?

Those were spoils of war that the soldiers risked their lives for!

We absolutely cannot let the Japanese blow it up!

Zhou Tianyang aimed the center of his cross at the Japanese soldier's head.

But that Japanese soldier's position was too tricky.

He hid under the truck chassis, with only half his head and one hand showing.

The truck's driveshaft and exhaust pipe blocked most of the field of view.

Zhou Tianyang's finger gently pressed the trigger, but he didn't pull it.

He is waiting.

Wait until the Japanese soldier crawls out a little further, revealing more of his body.

The Japanese soldier continued to crawl out.

Little by little, and little by little.

His head was fully exposed, then his shoulders, and then his chest.

Zhou Tianyang held his breath.

The center of the cross was firmly set on his temple.

"Bang!"

The bullet struck him precisely in the head.

Blood and brain matter splattered on the truck's chassis.

The Japanese soldier's body jolted violently, and the grenade slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.

The pull tab was still in his mouth, and the safety pin had been pulled out.

But the grenade did not explode.

He was shot dead before he could strike the primer after pulling the safety pin.

The grenade rolled twice on the ground and came to a stop next to the truck's tires, motionless.

Zhou Tianyang let out a long sigh of relief.

That was close.

If that grenade explodes and ignites the truck's fuel tank, the third truck will be finished.

All the supplies on the truck were gone.

He put his eye back on the scope and continued searching for a new target.

What he just witnessed reminded him of something.

Before they die, the Japanese soldiers will likely try to take their own lives with them.

Especially those veterans who believe in the Bushido spirit.

They would rather die than let the supplies fall into the hands of the Eighth Route Army.

Therefore, he had to keep a close eye on it.

Any Japanese soldier who gets close to the truck's fuel tank, any Japanese soldier holding a grenade, or any Japanese soldier who attempts to sabotage supplies should be shot down first.

"Bang!"

A Japanese soldier was crouching next to the hood of the fourth truck.

He was holding a grenade and about to pull the pin.

Zhou Tianyang's bullet struck his shoulder.

He screamed as the grenade fell to the ground and rolled under the truck.

Then another shot hit him in the head.

He fell backward and crashed to the ground, where he remained motionless.

[Ding! One Japanese soldier killed. 5 points awarded.]

"Bang!"

A Japanese corporal was lying under the chassis of the fifth truck, cutting the truck's fuel line with his bayonet.

Gasoline flowed from the fuel line and pooled on the ground.

He's going to set it on fire!

Zhou Tianyang aimed the crosshairs at his back and pulled the trigger.

The bullet pierced his spine, and he jerked violently before collapsing.

The bayonet slipped from his hand, oil was still leaking from the hose, but no one lit it.

[Ding! One Japanese corporal killed. 30 points awarded.]

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Zhou Tianyang fired continuously, and one after another, the Japanese soldiers who were trying to sabotage the supplies fell into pools of blood.

Some wanted to blow up the fuel tank, some wanted to cut the fuel line, and some wanted to set the truck on fire.

None of them succeeded.

Zhou Tianyang's hunt continues.

His finger was constantly pulling the trigger.

Every gunshot meant the death of a Japanese soldier.

The system's notification sounds echoed in his mind.

[Ding! One Japanese soldier killed. 5 points awarded.]

[Ding! One Japanese sergeant killed. 50 points awarded.]

[Ding! One Japanese soldier killed. 5 points awarded.]

[Ding! One Japanese corporal killed. 30 points awarded.]

[Ding! One Japanese sergeant killed. 100 points awarded.]

These voices kept echoing in his mind.

But Zhou Tianyang didn't have time to look closely.

His entire attention was focused on the scope, on every target at the bottom of the ditch.

Every Japanese soldier who tried to resist, every Japanese soldier who tried to destroy supplies, every Japanese soldier who was still breathing.

These are all his goals.

There was no longer any organized resistance on the battlefield.

The Japanese command system was completely destroyed in the first round of firing.

Heavy firepower was also eliminated one by one in the subsequent hunt.

The remaining Japanese soldiers were either dead, seriously wounded, or cowering under the vehicle, trembling with fear.

There was no one in command, no one to organize, and no one to fight back.

The gunfire at the bottom of the ditch gradually subsided.

It's not because the firepower has decreased.

It's because there are fewer goals now.

Of the more than 350 Japanese soldiers, probably no more than 30 are still breathing.

Zhou Tianyang looked up from behind the scope and examined the situation at the bottom of the ditch.

The roadsides and around the trucks were littered with the corpses of Japanese soldiers.

Some lay on their backs, some were on the ground, some were curled up under the car, and some were hanging on the truck.

The air was thick with the pungent smell of blood and gunpowder.

On the south slope, Li Yunlong stood up, his gaze sweeping across the bottom of the gully.

There are hardly any Japanese soldiers left alive.

He turned around and shouted to the soldiers behind him.

"New Regiment, assemble!"

Two hundred soldiers stood up from the south slope, holding their guns and staring at the bottom of the ravine.