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

In the darkness, the machine gun's lethality is naturally most astonishing.

After all, they can form a net, and machine gun bullets can basically pierce through a person's body when they hit them.

It's like being killed if you touch it.

But at this time, the most dangerous are the snipers.

This sniper seemed to be able to lock onto Xu Jiande's figure, pinpointing his location as soon as he launched his attack, and then initiating his own attack.

Although it is an ordinary rifle, it still has extremely strong killing power.

In an instant, countless bullets erupted from the courtyard, sweeping towards the direction from which the grenades had come, striking the walls surrounding Xu Jiande. This was compounded by rhythmic, targeted single-shot bursts.

The bullets struck the edge of the corner where Xu Jiande was hiding, splattering brick fragments all over his face. One bullet almost grazed his scalp.

Xu Jiande could even feel the airflow from the bullets brushing against his hair.

He suddenly pulled his head back, leaned against the wall, and gasped for breath.

Sweat streamed down his forehead and dripped onto the bluestone slab.

Xu Jiande scaled the wall again and ran quickly from the other side. After running for about three minutes, he arrived at the south side of the courtyard house. He then began throwing grenades wildly again.

This time, three more grenades were thrown at the positions where the machine gunner and sniper had been.

The grenade traced three arcs in the night sky before crashing into the courtyard wall.

It exploded with a loud bang.

The flash of fire disappeared in the darkness, and the shockwave, carrying shrapnel and broken bricks, flew around the courtyard. Several Japanese machine gunners hiding in the bunker were hit directly, their bodies flying up like rag dolls and crashing to the ground with dull thuds.

But before the smoke had cleared, gunshots rang out again in the darkness.

It's a sniper firing single shots.

The bullet flew from the direction of the courtyard roof and hit the spot that Xu Jiande had exposed when he threw the grenade.

From the cracks in the brickwork at the corner of the wall, bits of broken brick splattered all over his face.

Xu Jiande suddenly pulled his head back and leaned against the wall.

The enemy reacted too quickly. He had just moved to the south and thrown three grenades when, in just a few breaths, the sniper had already locked onto him again.

This reaction speed and precision are on a completely different level from those ordinary Japanese soldiers.

Xu Jiande took a deep breath, took a Type 38 rifle off his back, lay down on the ground, and extended the barrel from the corner of the wall.

In the darkness, he couldn't see the other person's exact location. He could only roughly judge based on the direction the bullet had come from: on the roof, slightly to the left, possibly hiding behind the ridge.

Xu Jiande closed his eyes and poured demonic energy into them. The darkness in his vision began to fade, and the outlines of the walls and roof became clearer, but it wasn't enough; he needed more precise perception.

He continued to push the demonic energy outwards, extending it forward along the gun barrel.

At this moment, a sudden change occurred.

Xu Jiande's demonic energy converged into a single line, extending straight out along the gun barrel. The demonic energy in his dantian circulated wildly at an unprecedented speed, and his blood and qi throughout his body were boiling.

The demonic energy was no longer the gentle heat it had been before, but had turned into a scalding torrent that flowed down his arm and into the gun barrel.

Then he felt the Type 38 rifle in his hands as if it had come to life.

The grain of the wooden stock, the rifling inside the metal barrel, the tension of the trigger spring—every detail was clearly reflected in his mind.

The gun was no longer an external object, but had become a part of his body, an extended finger.

Even more bizarrely, he sensed the sniper on the opposite rooftop.

It's not what you see, it's not what you hear, it's what you feel.

The sniper was lying prone behind the roof ridge, his heartbeat steady, his breathing slow, as he adjusted the direction of his scope.

Xu Jiande could sense his position, his posture, and his next possible move, as if the person were right in front of him.

Xu Jiande didn't have time to think about what was going on.

He immediately locked onto the sniper's position, and a large amount of his vital energy was poured into the gun in that instant.

The finger on the trigger was pulled lightly.

boom.

A shot rang out.

But this shot was unlike any other shot before.

The moment the bullet left the chamber, Xu Jiande felt his consciousness being violently pulled out by a tremendous force.

It's not a metaphor; it literally means being dragged out.

A part of his mind flew out of the gun barrel along with the bullet in an instant, spinning forward in the air.

The world spun around him, his head throbbed with pain, as if countless hands were tearing at his head, ripping his soul out of his body.

In an instant.

Xu Jiande felt weak all over, and his limbs felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead.

He lay on the ground, his finger still in the trigger position, but he could no longer feel the gun.

The bullet carried his mind as it flew rapidly through the air.

In that instant, Xu Jiande's consciousness was fragmented, with the vast majority remaining within his body. He could feel the coldness of the ground and the distant gunshots.

But another part flies along with the bullet, and you can feel the air resistance and the centrifugal force of the bullet's rotation.

Then the bullet hit the sniper's head.

Centered between eyebrows.

Before the sniper could even utter a sound, his body jerked violently before collapsing limply onto the roof ridge.

The rifle slipped from his hand, slid down the roof tiles, and landed in the courtyard with a crisp sound.

The half of Xu Jiande's consciousness remaining in his body witnessed this scene, and before he could even breathe a sigh of relief, an even more intense pain surged up. His body, missing a tenth of its mental energy, felt as if its spine had been removed, rendering him completely immobile.

The Japanese machine guns fired again.

The bullet flew over his head and hit the wall behind him, with brick fragments raining down on his back like hail.

Xu Jiande gritted his teeth and rolled to the side several times with all his might, rolling to the other side of the wall, temporarily escaping the machine gun's firing range.

At this point, his reaction was worse than that of an ordinary person, and even worse than that of a sick five-year-old child.

Xu Jiande was taken aback. This demonic art was truly worrisome, suddenly undergoing such a change. He wondered if he would die like this.

Furthermore, after the bullet killed the sniper, the one-tenth of Xu Jiande's soul that had been pulled out did not dissipate along with the bullet. It emerged from the sniper's head, floated in the air for a while, and then, as if pulled by some force, suddenly flew back.

Just like a fisherman using a fishing line to pull up a fishhook.

In the blink of an eye, the whole thing only took four or five seconds.

The time was so short it seemed like an illusion, but the moment his one-tenth of his soul returned to his body and the two senses merged, Xu Jiande felt as if he had been struck by lightning.

The moment the soul returned to its place, the body's condition not only returned to its peak, but also showed a significant improvement.

The physical strength and demonic energy that had been previously consumed were replenished, and the meridians throughout the body were trembling slightly. The demonic energy in the dantian was more condensed than before.

More importantly, a vast and unfamiliar memory has been added to my mind.

It wasn't his own memory; it belonged to the sniper.

These memories flooded his consciousness like a tidal wave; this man had killed a large number of soldiers and civilians of the Great Xia Dynasty through various means.

Xu Jiande quickly rummaged through these fragments of memory in his mind, becoming increasingly alarmed with each review.

This sniper used various methods to kill a large number of soldiers and civilians of the Great Xia, and many of these killings involved torture and murder.

As for the total number of people, it exceeds five hundred.

At the same time, he sensed that the sniper was able to extract something from each victim he killed.

Something warm, exciting, and life-like.

"Do the Japanese devils also have people who practice similar demonic arts?" This thought struck Xu Jiande's mind like a bolt of lightning.

No wonder my soul flew out of control with the bullet just now.

It wasn't that the demonic art suddenly evolved, nor that he unintentionally used some new move; it was probably that the demonic art reacted automatically the moment it encountered its own kind.

Just like two magnets attracting each other when they get close, his demonic energy and the remaining power in the sniper's body resonated in some way, forcibly pulling his soul out.

Of course, there's no time to think about these things in detail right now.

The Japanese attack continued, and it was even more intense than before.

The machine gun fire was so dense it sounded like popping beans, and rifle bullets whizzed overhead.

The footsteps grew closer, and someone was flanking them from both sides, their leather boots making a clattering sound on the gravel.

Xu Jiande shook his head, temporarily suppressing the jumbled fragments of memories in his mind.

He picked up the Type 38 rifle again, channeling demonic energy into the gun, hoping to replicate the effect of the previous shot and sense the sniper's location in the darkness once more.

But after the demonic energy was poured into the gun, there was no reaction whatsoever.

The sensation from that shot has completely disappeared.