The Little Demonic Cultivator in the Courtyard: Borrowing 100,000 Japanese Pirates to Heal

That night, he knocked down two sentries by the river.

Two Japanese soldiers stood back to back. He slit one's throat first, and when the other heard the noise and turned around, he stabbed him through the chest. He dragged the body to the dock but didn't throw it into the Qinhuai River.

Instead, he left a note on it, which roughly said, "If you dare to harm any of the residents of Jingzhou again, I will kill you all."

That spirit, that boldness.

This was just the beginning. In the morning, he was lying in a long alley in the west of the city when he saw a Japanese three-wheeled motorcycle.

A machine gun was mounted in the truck bed, with two Japanese soldiers, one driving and the other holding the gun handle.

Xu Jiande rushed out from the side, first chopping the machine gunner down with a knife, then chasing after the car and kicking the driver off, slitting his throat.

The motorcycle was still roaring, but Xu Jiande didn't care. He drove forward and encountered a Japanese patrol, so he started firing at them with his machine gun.

Da da da.

The entire Japanese squad was immediately killed.

One evening, Xu Jiande killed a translator dressed in plainclothes.

The man had just come out of the military police station, carrying a leather bag under his arm and humming a little tune.

Xu Jiande followed him for half a block, only making his move when the man disappeared into the shadows. The knife went in under his ribs, and the man didn't even utter a sound.

This fighting style is even more ruthless than before.

He no longer talked to the Japanese about "I will not attack unless attacked", nor did he care about "every wrong has its perpetrator".

Those in the city who wear military uniforms, help others put on military uniforms, and run errands for them all deserve to be killed.

His only goal was to kill them so that they would never dare to threaten him with the common people again, to kill them so that they would tremble at the sound of the night wind blowing through the alleys, and to kill them so that they would eventually become like the Japanese soldiers in Beijing, not daring to even leave their barracks after dark.

Xu Jiande himself knew that the faster he killed, the more anxious the Japanese would become, and they might actually retaliate against the people of Jingzhou.

But he couldn't stop.

So many people have already died in Jingzhou City. If a few more die, it will be the work of those beasts.

He's determined to overturn the chessboard.

He's not playing cowardly games anymore.

He switched to his old ways, which was to stop killing with killing. Anyone who used the people to threaten him would be shown that such threats would not result in retreat, but in even faster sword strikes.

In the following days, Xu Jiande became increasingly adept at killing.

"Smooth" means that he no longer needs to scout ahead, or count how many people the other side has, how many guns they have, or how their firepower is allocated.

Whenever he left his hiding cellar at night, walked north with the wind, and smelled the kerosene and sweat mixed on the Japanese soldiers, his knife would automatically be drawn.

Sometimes, before you can even see clearly, the knife is already inside.

He no longer used only one knife. He used bayonets, military daggers, and even a short-handled sickle he'd seized from the Japanese soldiers. After all, there were dead people everywhere in Jingzhou City.

You can always find some metal weapons in the hands, waist, or bundles of the dead. After killing someone, he would wipe the knife a couple of times, tuck it into his waistband, and leave.

He stopped keeping track of the numbers.

It's because I don't want to remember.

At first, he would count in his mind: one, two, three. He killed five tonight, plus the fifteen from last night, and then the whole nest from the day before yesterday.

Later, he found that as he counted, his mind would wander. He would think of Beijing, Bai Ling, Jia Zhangshi's voice, and He Daqing squatting on the ground crying.

Then it felt like something had gently poked my chest; it didn't hurt, but it felt incredibly stuffy.

So he stopped counting. He killed them, like stepping on an ant while walking, without looking back.

Of course, all of the above is under the premise of maintaining safety. If there are too many Japanese soldiers, then only hand grenades and submachine guns can be used.

Therefore, safety comes first.

At this time, some of the surviving people in Jingzhou gradually discovered something.

The eerie feeling that used to seep in from all directions as soon as night fell seemed to have faded.

In the past, as soon as it got dark, the whole city felt like it was being held underwater by something. Even dogs dared not bark, and the living hid in the ruins, barely able to breathe, always feeling as if countless cold hands were reaching out from the shadows.

Things are different now. At night, you can occasionally hear the wind, the tiles sliding off the roof, and the water flowing in the Qinhuai River.

These sounds have been there before, but back then they sounded like ghosts wailing; now they're just sounds.

Some people couldn't quite put their finger on what had changed, but they just felt less afraid staying in Jingzhou compared to a few days ago.

Those sleeping in the cellar dared to turn their oil lamps a little brighter, and dared to peek out before dawn. People were still hiding, still hungry, but the breath that had been pressing on their chests for countless days seemed to be able to be released halfway.

That feeling is correct; it is indeed the case.

Of course, this is related to Xiao Xujiande.

Xu Jiande even felt it clearly; initially, he absorbed the blood and qi of those Japanese soldiers bit by bit, and the demonic energy in his dantian became thicker and thicker day by day.

Only later did he realize that the souls of the Great Xia people who had been brutally murdered in Jingzhou City gradually quieted down as his sword fell one blow after another.

The resentment was stirred up and then dissipated, like stagnant water that had been accumulating for too long, which was then released little by little through a hole poked in it.

As he walked through the ruins, he would sometimes stop unconsciously, feeling as if something had brushed against the chill around him, very lightly, like someone reaching out from the wind and then withdrawing their hand.

That means the city is slowly recovering.

Xu Jiande's cultivation level also increased extremely rapidly. With each strike, a trace of blood energy was released, and with each explosion, a dissipated life force burrowed into his body.

The gray mist in his dantian grew thinner and thinner, while the demonic energy grew thicker and thicker, like a dark, shiny river flowing through his meridians.

After killing someone at night, he would sit against the wall, and often without consciously circulating his internal energy, the demonic energy would start to circulate on its own, one circle after another, washing him from the inside out, making him feel both cold and hot.

His muscles and bones became more and more muscular, his steps became lighter and lighter, and his movements became faster and faster.

Sometimes he could even hear very faint sounds coming from his own bones, like the sound of ice cracking in spring.

Xu Jiande had a vague feeling that he was about to advance.

Just a little bit.

It's like standing in front of an extremely thick stone door, with light already shining through the cracks. Your hand is on the door panel, and all your strength is concentrated in your shoulders. You're just one push away from opening it.

He tried sitting still at night, pressing the demonic energy to his dantian, and then forcefully slamming it upwards.

He knew that he couldn't rush it. The Blood Ancestor had long said that the worst thing for a breakthrough was to force it. When the time was right, success would come naturally; if the time wasn't right, forcing it would only damage the meridians.

And so, Xu Jiande exhaled a breath of stale air, slowly suppressing the impulse, and continued to take the knife and go out.

Almost there. He thought to himself, "Kill one more batch, and that should be enough."

Xu Jiande soon arrived at the hideout of a puppet army squad, hoping to advance to the next round today.