Courtyard House: I only wiped out 30,000 Japanese pirates

These people charged forward fiercely, but without any strategy or method; they were just recklessly charging forward.

This looks like a disorganized unit of the Guo Wengui faction, not even an elite force.

The three Type 96 light machine guns that the Japanese had positioned around the square immediately turned their guns around and laid down crossfire, effectively locking the square in place.

The plainclothes officer at the front was hit by machine gun fire, staggered forward several steps, dropped his gun, and then fell headfirst onto the bluestone slab.

The people behind started throwing grenades.

The blast wave sent a sandbag flying, and shrapnel clattered against the bluestone slabs.

But the distance was too far; they couldn't reach the Japanese machine gun positions, and could only create a cloud of broken bricks and dust.

The machine gun firepower did not diminish at all. The three light machine guns fired alternately, and the bullet holes that splashed across the square pushed forward, pinning down the people who rushed out one by one.

They fell one after another.

Seven or eight minutes later, more than twenty attackers had fallen.

The remaining men began to retreat, dragging their wounded comrades into the alley, but the bullets from the Type 96 bullets relentlessly pursued them.

An attacker with a leg injury was being helped back towards the alley entrance by his companion. Halfway back, his companion was shot in the head and collapsed on top of him.

He was pinned beneath the bodies of his comrades, unable to move, as machine gun fire swept over them.

Neither of them moved again.

He Dajun's fingernails dug into his palm.

The Japanese had only lost one soldier and wounded three. At this critical moment, He Dajun couldn't offer any help and could only watch as the fleeing Japanese soldiers, who were trying to save others, fell one after another.

I feel quite helpless.

At the same time, I felt that the rescuer was too impulsive. But in such a situation, how many people could remain calm?

Half an hour later, the battle ended, and almost all of the rescue team members were killed.

Only a few escaped. He Dajun even felt that the Japanese had deliberately let them go.

This is continuing to fish.

The battle is finally over.

A strong smell of gunpowder, blood, and explosives filled the square. More than thirty corpses lay scattered on the bluestone slabs, some of the attackers, others of civilians who hadn't had time to escape.

An old woman was lying face down not far away, her back covered in blood, with a seven or eight-year-old child lying next to her.

The wind blew across the square, carrying a metallic, rusty smell.

Hell on earth.

Sasaki stood up from the ground, dusted off his uniform, and his expression remained unchanged.

He glanced at the bodies of the attackers in the square, then at the direction in which the attackers had retreated, before turning to look at He Dajun.

He Dajun stood behind Sasaki, his clothes covered in dust, and new bloodstains seeping from the bandage on his left leg.

My leg bumped into Sasaki when I tackled him.

But he stood firm, his expression both tense and resolute, like a guard with boundless loyalty to his superior.

Sasaki looked at him, a smile returning to his face. He suddenly asked, "He Dajun, would you like to serve as a puppet soldier? I'll provide you with a gun."

He Dajun's heart skipped a beat. Puppet troops? Armed?

This wasn't a casual question from Sasaki. It was a preliminary assessment of Sasaki's loyalty after he tackled Sasaki earlier, and Sasaki wanted to give him a new title.

His expression immediately changed from tense to joy, and then to a kind of fawning flattery.

The expression changed so quickly, conveying a mixture of loyalty, gratitude, and flattery within seconds.

He bent down, his voice choked with emotion: "I will obey your orders, Sir! If you tell me to go east, I will never go west!"

Sasaki looked at his smile and nodded in satisfaction.

He raised his hand and patted He Dajun on the shoulder. It wasn't a hard pat, but He Dajun's shoulder tilted and his left leg almost lost its balance. He quickly grabbed a wooden stick to brace himself.

Sasaki was amused by his disheveled appearance, chuckled, and turned to get into the jeep.

He Dajun also got into the jeep.

The jeep bumped on the cobblestone road. Sasaki leaned back in his leather seat, his gaze shifting from the ruins that flashed past the window to He Dajun.

"He Dajun, many of the current puppet troops are unreliable." Sasaki's tone was unhurried, as if he were chatting casually, but what he saw in his eyes was anything but casual.

"They were all there but not putting in any real effort. Some took guns from the Imperial Army and then turned around and joined the resistance fighters. Others colluded with the resistance fighters. The Imperial Army spent money and guns on them, only to end up raising a bunch of ungrateful wretches."

He paused, his gaze falling on He Dajun's face: "You, help me find some truly loyal and reliable people. I want you to build a genuine puppet army."

He Dajun's expression immediately changed after hearing the translator's words.

I felt an excitement and honor that came from deep within my bones.

He struggled to straighten his back in the cramped car seat. The bandage on his left leg brushed against the car door, making him wince in pain, but he ignored it, his voice trembling.

"Sir! I am willing! I am extremely honored! It is the greatest blessing I, He Dajun, have received to entrust such an important task to you!"

Sasaki's lips twitched slightly as he observed his reaction, then his expression turned serious as he asked, "He Dajun, do you... know how to forge the most loyal collaborators?"

He Dajun fell silent.

He leaned back in his car seat, head down, brows furrowed, fingers tapping rhythmically on his knee.

The jeep jolted again, and the back of his head bumped lightly against the seat back, but he didn't notice.

After a long while, he finally raised his head, looked at Sasaki, and said in a low but firm voice, "Sir, to build the most loyal troops, you need them to have blood on their hands. Those who have spilled the blood of the people of Great Xia can never turn back. They can only follow the Imperial Army down this dark path."

When the translator translated that sentence, Sasaki's expression changed.

He stared at He Dajun for several seconds, then suddenly burst into laughter.

The laughter was loud and carried far from the open-top jeep. A local resident who was huddled against a wall by the roadside was so startled that he trembled and quickened his pace.

The guard driving the car glanced at the back seat in the rearview mirror and saw the major smiling so happily. He grinned as well, though he didn't know what the major was laughing about.

"He Dajun, you're born to be a collaborator!" Sasaki stopped laughing and patted He Dajun hard on the shoulder.

He Dajun's shoulder swayed from the pat, and his left leg tensed reflexively, making him gasp in pain. But he immediately straightened his back, his expression a mixture of gratitude and humility.

Sasaki looked at his disheveled appearance, and the smile on his lips deepened. "Your thoughts are exactly the same as mine. I hope you can work with me to achieve great things."

"Moreover, fighting against our Imperial Army is not a dead end, but rather a way to enjoy more shared prosperity."

He Dajun immediately bent over, his posture awkward in the cramped car seat, but his voice was perfectly natural: "Sir, you flatter me! To be able to serve you is a blessing I, He Dajun, have accumulated over many lifetimes! If you tell me to go east, I will never go west!"

When He Dajun said this, his heart was bleeding, but he had no choice but to say it.

Because even if I didn't say it, the Japanese would still do it.

I was just going with the flow, taking the initiative to be the bad guy.

However, we can plan how to deal with this puppet army properly, without killing anyone, or at least as much as possible.

Finally, let these puppet troops kill more Japanese soldiers.

After all, if 500 men were to launch a surprise attack, it would pose a great threat to the Japanese.

Therefore, we need to plan for the long term.

Sasaki leaned back in his seat, shifting his gaze from He Dajun to the cratered streets ahead, his tone returning to its usual unhurried manner.

"The management of Shangcheng District must be completed as soon as possible. This is the most important district in Beijing. Lou's Steel Rolling Mill is located here, and most of the wealthy people live here as well. If Shangcheng District is not managed well, the other districts will be even less so."

"Your puppet troops are my other hand. I will use this hand to firmly grasp the Upper City."

After listening, He Dajun's expression changed from gratitude to determination, and then from determination to a sense of triumphant pride.

He puffed out his chest, his voice not loud but extremely firm: "Rest assured, sir, leave the security of the Upper District to me. I will get the troops up and running as fast as possible and make the Upper District an impregnable fortress!"