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

Xu Jiande darted in from the side, very quickly. The Japanese assault team was charging forward, the tail of the column just past the ridge of the field. Xu Jiande ran quickly from the makeshift fortification, then rushed past, throwing grenades wildly, followed by a barrage of fire with a submachine gun.

In less than five or six seconds, he rushed over and drew his knife.

This was the first time he had ever handled a cold weapon since arriving in Jiangcheng.

With a powerful slash, the blade flashed, and at least five Japanese soldiers were quickly killed.

A large amount of blood and energy surged into Xu Jiande's body.

Xu Jiande then struck again.

At that moment, Xu Jiande swept past like the wind, his knife flashing in and out so fast that the people didn't even have time to shout.

By the time he reached the vicinity of the field ridge, that small group of Japanese soldiers had already been disrupted.

Then they were all wiped out.

Several soldiers from the Kuomintang in the trench looked at him as if he were a ghost emerging from the fog.

"Hey bro, which part are you in?" someone called out.

Xu Jiande did not reply and continued his frenzied killing of the enemy.

An hour later, after Xu Jiande slaughtered three hundred men, the Japanese army's first attack failed completely, and they immediately retreated.

All the Kuomintang troops in the tunnels breathed a sigh of relief, looking at Xu Jiande as if he were a god.

……

Three days later, Xu Jiande made his way to the north in the middle of the night.

There was no moon in the sky, and even the stars were few.

The wind blew from the east, mixing the dampness of the river with the grassy smell of the fields.

He walked very quietly, stopping every now and then to listen.

He walked for more than an hour before stopping beside a dry ditch. Several charred logs lay across the ditch, surrounded by fresh footprints.

Xu Jiande squatted down and sank the demonic energy into the ground. He immediately sensed that three hundred paces to the south, there were more than a dozen people, divided into three groups, slowly moving.

They weren't part of the Guo Wengui faction. They were too close to the Guo Wengui camp, yet they neither fired nor spoke, as if they were fiddling with something.

He was a Japanese scout.

Xu Jiande followed the canal westward, circling around to the side and rear of that group of people.

The wind pressed down on him from behind, blowing towards the Japanese soldiers, carrying away all sound. He

He crouched low, like a black heron gliding along the ground. The first group of Japanese soldiers was just twenty paces away, whispering to each other by a shell crater. One of them was even holding a small notebook, writing something down by the light of a flashlight that had been blocked from view.

Xu Jiande climbed out of the ditch, now holding a knife.

He went up silently, as did the knife; all that could be heard was the wind passing over the grass, like a soft sigh.

The first Japanese soldier fell down, stabbed in the back of the neck; the one holding the notebook hadn't even looked up yet.

The second man was just about to get up when Xu Jiande stepped on his ankle and stabbed him in the back with a knife, leaving him feeling as if his muscles had been pulled out.

The third man finally reacted, reaching for his waist. Xu Jiande didn't give him a chance; the knife slashed halfway through the air, slicing across his throat. The man knelt, blood splattering onto the grass, his voice like he was drinking water.

After the first group finished clearing, Xu Jiande didn't stop.

He wiped the knife on his trouser leg and walked eastward with the wind.

The second group of Japanese soldiers had already realized something was wrong and were sneaking towards this area.

But they couldn't see him or hear him.

Xu Jiande was like a shadow in the night, darting in from behind them and stabbing them one by one.

One of them turned to fire, but before the gun fired, his wrist broke first, and the knife plunged into his chest.

Another squad leader drew his knife and charged forward, yelling "Eee!" Xu Jiande dodged him and plunged the knife into the back of the neck. The knife grazed the grass and then fell silent.

The third group was small, with only four people. They didn't dare go up and ran back.

Xu Jiande chased after him for a while, as fast as a black wind. The last Japanese soldier tripped and fell onto the ridge of the field, letting out a scream. Xu Jiande went up to him, stepped on his back like he was stepping on a rat, and thrust the tip of his knife downwards, silencing the scream.

Silence returned. The wind was still blowing, and the grass reeked of blood.

He counted them; twenty-three men, not one left. He found a small cloth bag on the last Japanese soldier, containing some dry rations and a crumpled hand-drawn map.

Xu Jiande folded the map neatly and stuffed it into his clothes. He'd need these things later.

……

Three days later, Xu Jiande took a nap in a dilapidated pavilion in the south of the city, and then went for a walk on the city wall in the evening.

That night, he killed more than thirty Japanese soldiers.

We fight every day, and we improve every day.

……

Xu Jiande sneaked into the artillery position at two o'clock in the morning.

The position was on a high ground in the northwest of the city, surrounded by two rings of sandbags and wooden stakes. There was a machine gun emplacement on the east and west sides, and six Type 92 infantry guns in the middle, all with their muzzles pointing south.

During the day, he lay in the reeds two miles away and watched all day long, memorizing the changing of the guard post, the position of the machine gunner, and the intervals between the artillery positions.

He went in from the west first.

Two Japanese soldiers were talking in hushed tones in the machine gun emplacement to the west; one was leaning against a sandbag, and the other was sitting on the ground cleaning bullets.

Xu Jiande crawled along the grassy ditch to the back of the bunker, and when the talking stopped, he climbed over.

The knife fell first, and the head of the sitting man tilted to the side; the one leaning against the gun heard the noise, and before he could turn his head, his throat had already been slit. Xu Jiande pressed the body down next to the machine gun without making a sound.

He crept along the bunker toward the gun emplacements. There was no one near the first gun, and only a gunner was sleeping under a tarpaulin near the second gun.

Xu Jiande didn't kill him; he went around to the pile of ammunition boxes in the middle.

There were two sentries, one on the left and one on the right. Xu Jiande grabbed the one on the left by the neck from behind, and plunged a knife into the heart of the one on the right. The two men went limp almost simultaneously.

Gunshots rang out at that moment.

It wasn't a direct attack on them. Several sniper shots suddenly came from the direction of the Kuomintang positions to the south, and the Japanese reflexively returned fire, making the position suddenly lively.

Xu Jiande cursed under his breath, knowing he couldn't hide any longer. He steeled himself, leaped out from behind the ammunition box like a lynx startled from the grass, and pounced on the nearest artillery position.

The gunners had just climbed out from under the tarpaulin, some without even wearing helmets.

Xu Jiande ran into two men head-on, killing them both with a single slash. A third man, armed with a gun, charged from behind. Xu Jiande sidestepped, slammed the man to the ground, pressed the tip of his knife against the man's throat, and the man fell silent.

Another Japanese soldier fired at him from behind the gun carriage. The bullet grazed his shoulder and punched a hole in the wooden stake behind him.

Xu Jiande didn't dodge. He charged forward despite the gunfire, plunged his knife into the man's right rib, and then pulled him sideways, causing the man to fall down while still clinging to the cannon mount.

Blood dripped down the cannon barrel and into the mud.

Xu Jiande had lost count of how many he had killed.

He simply hacked and kicked, shoving all the Japanese soldiers who had crawled up from their gun positions back into the darkness.

A Japanese soldier threw a grenade, and Xu Jiande dodged behind an ammunition box. The grenade exploded in the open, sending shrapnel flying. As the smoke rose, he circled around to the east and took out the last machine gunner.

Before he died, the man pulled the trigger, and several bullets shot into the sky, like holes punched in the night sky.

The position fell silent.

Xu Jiande stood in the middle of the six cannons, panting heavily.

They then began shelling the Japanese troops on the other side.

That night, Xu Jiande alone killed more than 7,000 Japanese soldiers.

As for the hundreds of people he killed at the beginning, that was nothing.