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

Behind the Japanese soldier was a puppet soldier, wearing a khaki uniform with a pistol at his waist. His expression didn't seem like he was there to check on the enemy, but rather like he was there to watch a show.

"What are you doing?" he asked in Japanese.

His voice was arrogant, his chin was slightly raised, and his gaze pierced through the brim of his hat, carrying a condescending scrutiny.

The puppet troops then began translating.

Xu Jiande quickly lowered his head, adopting the most honest and unassuming posture.

He said humbly, "Sir, I own a rice shop. It's Xu's Rice Shop, located in Nanluoguxiang. We're out of rice, so I'm going to the main store to get some."

The Japanese soldier looked him up and down a few times, his gaze lingering on the patched gray cloth jacket he was wearing. He then glanced back at the puppet troops.

The puppet troops asked Xu Jiande a few questions, then nodded to the Japanese soldiers.

"Let's go." The Japanese soldier waved his hand, urging him to hurry over.

Xu Jiande bowed slightly, said "Thank you, sir," and quickly walked over the roadblock with his head down.

They hadn't gone far when they suddenly heard the voices of the puppet soldiers behind them.

at this time.

From another courtyard not far from the open space, came the sounds of ping-pong balls being smashed on the door, the commotion of rummaging through drawers and cabinets, mixed with shouts from the Japanese soldiers and pleas in the Daxia language.

Occasionally, one could hear a woman's sharp screams, which usually lasted only a few seconds before abruptly stopping, as if someone had covered her mouth.

Then came a scream.

The sound came from deep within the alley, short and abrupt, as if suddenly cut off. However...

Then came a suffocating silence.

Xu Jiande finally couldn't help but stop for a while, standing at the entrance of the alley, taking in all of this.

After a while, he continued walking forward, his face expressionless, but his hands were clenched into fists inside his sleeves, his knuckles cracking.

These creatures are worse than animals.

Just then, gunshots rang out.

Four or five hundred meters away from him, a lone gunshot rang out, crisp and short, like someone striking an anvil with a hammer.

Then came a moment of silence, so brief that one might have wondered if the gunshot had been an illusion.

Immediately afterward, a second gunshot rang out. Then came a third, a fourth, and then a series of rapid gunshots, exploding like popping beans.

The Japanese light machine guns also started firing, their sharp, cracking sounds mingling with the firing of the Type 38 rifles.

The vibrations echoed through the alley, causing dust to fall from the walls in a flurry.

Four or five minutes later, the gunfire stopped.

The alleyway fell into an even more deathly silence than before.

The civilians gathered by the Japanese soldiers in the open space began to tremble. Several women squatted on the ground, covered their faces and cried, but tried to cover their mouths, as if afraid of attracting the attention of the Japanese soldiers.

Everyone kept their heads down and necks hunched, wishing they could disappear into the ground. They were terrified of incurring the wrath of the Japanese.

This has happened far too many times today.

Xu Jiande continued walking forward.

He didn't stop, but each step was heavier than the last.

After walking for a while, he saw five or six Japanese soldiers appear at the other end of the alley, dragging two people out of a house.

The two men were dragged out by their ankles, their bodies stumbling and falling on the bluestone slabs. Their clothes were torn, and their exposed skin was covered in bloodstains.

One of the men had his head tilted to one side, and there was a line of blood on his neck that was still bleeding.

The other man's stomach was ripped open by a bullet, bleeding profusely, leaving a dark red, wet trail as he dragged his blood across the flagstones.

These two people are either dead or seriously injured.

The Japanese soldiers threw the two bodies on the roadside, as if they were two bags of garbage.

Meanwhile, three or four other Japanese soldiers went back into the house where the person had been dragged out and continued their search.

A moment later, the sound of something being smashed came from inside the room, followed by the sound of something being rummaged through a cabinet.

Xu Jiande looked at the two corpses and unconsciously slowed his pace.

He didn't know who these two people were.

They could be members of an underground resistance organization, soldiers left behind in the city after the collapse of the Kuomintang forces, or ordinary citizens with a sense of justice.

But whoever they are, they did what many people in this city wanted to do but dared not. They are true heroes.

Sadly, they have already sacrificed themselves. They sacrificed themselves on the path of resistance.

Xu Jiande hesitated for a long time.

Reason told him that he had to leave now.

The Japanese soldiers were conducting a thorough search, and the troop density in the area had increased significantly since he arrived.

His best option was to obediently go to the main store, get the rice back, and then go home. That was the safest course of action.

But he couldn't move; his feet felt like they were nailed to the ground.

Something was surging up in my chest, something hotter, more scalding, and more impossible to suppress than demonic energy.

This feeling of guilt began to build up in his heart when he watched his three neighbors being stabbed to death in the courtyard that morning. It piled up layer by layer, like red-hot iron blocks, until now it reached his throat.

The Blood Ancestor didn't say anything, because there wasn't time to say it.

But Xu Jiande's first instinct was that what demonic cultivators feared most was being constantly stifled.

Frustration can lead to inner demons, which can affect one's cultivation and even cause one to go astray.

Of course, Xu Jiande also felt that this had nothing to do with whether or not one was a demonic cultivator.

Any person from Great Xia, with even a shred of courage, would be unable to remain indifferent upon witnessing this scene.

The blood is burning.

He stopped.

His gaze swept across the surroundings: the sandbag bunkers at the alley entrance, the machine gunners' positions, the patrol routes, the locations of the Japanese soldiers searching the house, and the height of the surrounding buildings and the thickness of the walls.

As far as the eye could see, he felt as if he had measured everything with a ruler, imprinting the position, distance, and direction of every Japanese soldier in his mind.

That's really amazing.

He then quickly left, pulling a hand grenade from his pocket.

This grenade was just seized from those four plainclothes officers; there were eight in total, and he was carrying two with him.

Xu Jiande placed his fingers on the fuse and gently pulled it, causing the fuse to hiss and smoke.

Then he swung his arm and threw the grenade hard.

Blindly throw the ball through the alley wall.

After his body was tempered by demonic energy, his arm strength far surpassed that of ordinary people.

For ordinary soldiers, throwing a grenade is considered passing if it takes 30 or 40 meters, and excellent if it takes 50 or 60 meters.

But Xu Jiande's strength is now beyond that of ordinary people. The speed and distance at which he throws this grenade are similar to those of an artillery shell.

The grenade traced a graceful arc through the air and landed precisely between the Japanese soldiers who were dragging people.

The distance of 300 meters was incredibly precise.

For some reason, Xu Jiande didn't aim deliberately when he threw it, but after the demonic energy was injected into his arm, his brain automatically calculated the distance, angle, and landing point in an instant, as if it were instinct.

This demonic power is invincible.

Five seconds later.

A huge explosion.

The grenade exploded among the Japanese soldiers, sending flames and black smoke billowing into the air. The shockwave kicked up rubble and dust from the ground, forming a grayish-white cloud of smoke.

The echo of the explosion bounced back and forth in the alley, humming and shaking for a long time before slowly dissipating.

Those Japanese soldiers were blown to pieces.

The one closest to the grenade was torn apart by the shockwave. His arms and legs were separated, and his upper body was thrown five or six meters away, crashing against the wall and sliding down, leaving a dark red drag mark.

The others weren't much better off; some had their necks ripped open by shrapnel, while others had their internal organs shattered by the shockwave, collapsing to the ground bleeding from all seven orifices.

The body was still twitching unconsciously.

Almost at the same time as the explosion, Xu Jiande felt a surge of heat flow into his body.

This heat flowed along the meridians to the dantian, much less intense than the heat from killing enemies with cold weapons, but it was definitely there.

The life force of Japanese soldiers killed by grenades dissipates much faster than that of those killed by cold weapons. Most of their life force is lost with the shockwave of the explosion, leaving only a small portion to be absorbed.

But for Xu Jiande, the biggest gain this time was not that insignificant increase in his physical strength.

It's a feeling of joy in my heart.