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

These infected Japanese soldiers naturally scratched desperately, their fingernails drawing bloody marks on their skin. But the more they scratched, the itchier it became, and the more it itched, the more they scratched, until their skin was raw and blood and pus mixed together and flowed down, yet they were still itchy.

Then I started vomiting.

After vomiting the contents of the stomach, bile is vomited, and after that, a dark, viscous liquid is vomited.

I experienced severe abdominal cramping, as if someone was twisting my intestines inside my abdominal cavity.

Then it began to wail, then turned into screams, and finally into a muffled roar that no one could understand.

The officer in charge immediately ordered his men to open fire, killing all the infected people.

The Japanese soldiers who were killed showed expressions of relief.

Clearly, these people would rather die than endure that pain any longer.

After the gunfire stopped, the courtyard became quiet, but the smell still lingered.

As the air moved, the smell drifted along the alley to the nearby residential area.

The concentration had been greatly dispersed by the night wind, becoming countless times weaker than in the courtyard, but it still existed.

The first to suffer was the family living closest to the house, consisting of a grandmother, her grandson, and her grandchildren.

The old man was awakened from his sleep by an inexplicable feeling of anxiety. He opened his eyes and found a patch of red rash on his arm, followed by a violent cough that made him curl up in bed.

The child's cries came from next door, sharp and hoarse. After a few cries, the child began to gag, then vomit, and then had diarrhea.

The child's skin was more delicate than the elderly's, and the rash on his body quickly turned into blisters, making him so itchy that he rolled on the ground.

Then came the neighbors next door, and then the whole alley.

Screams came from behind half-closed doors and windows, sounding particularly piercing in the quiet of the night.

Some people rolled off their beds onto the floor, some frantically scratched at the walls and doors, and some knelt in the yard pouring cold water over themselves with a ladle. They felt a moment of relief when the water was poured on them, but then an even more intense burning sensation returned.

These residents of Beijing had no idea what was happening.

All they knew was that suddenly their whole body started to itch, followed by a burning sting, and then it became increasingly difficult to breathe.

Fortunately, the gas had been dissipating in the air for a long time, and its concentration had been diluted many times over compared to the beginning, so its lethality was far less than when it was in the courtyard.

Although the poisoned people suffered terribly, most of them did not die immediately.

Only a few elderly people and children, who were already in poor health, fainted from the pain after a few hours.

Many more suffer from skin ulcers and respiratory burns, enduring long, agonizing nights. Of course, some are driven to despair by the pain.

After daybreak, residents of Beijing discovered that the alleys where the incident had occurred the previous night had been sealed off by the Japanese.

A fence of barbed wire surrounded the area, and Japanese soldiers in protective suits stood at the intersection, preventing anyone from getting close.

Several charred houses could be vaguely seen through the barbed wire fence, and a strange, indescribable smell lingered in the air.

Nobody knows what happened here last night.

They discovered that several neighbors never came out of their houses again.

At six o'clock in the morning, five people wearing thick protective suits appeared at the entrance of the alley.

They were wrapped in white protective suits from head to toe, wearing gas masks, with only their eyes showing.

They moved quickly, without saying a word, and went into the yard to start cleaning.

These people handled the corpses with great skill. They first wrapped the bodies in white shrouds, then carried them out of the courtyard one by one and loaded them into a sealed truck parked at the entrance of the alley.

Then, these bodies will be burned.

In addition, several Japanese soldiers wearing protective suits sprayed disinfectant on the walls and ground around the yard, and burned all the liquid splashed out of the yard by the explosion.

The Japanese side has gone mad, completely mad.

The bacterial weapons they brought were blown up on the very first day they arrived in Beijing.

According to the plan, these biological weapons will be secretly deployed to multiple locations in Beijing within the next week to test their actual lethality in densely populated areas.

And used to threaten and control the residents of Beijing.

But now, before the plan has even begun, things have gone wrong. The safe house where the first batch of strains were stored has been blown up.

What drives them even more crazy is that they still don't know who did it, whether it was a premeditated act by the resistance or just bad luck.

Xu Jiande had no idea that the place he had randomly bombed was actually a Japanese biological weapon.

This was fighting the wrong battle at the wrong time and in the wrong place, resulting in an outcome that is neither good nor bad.

Finally, or rather, very soon, dawn broke.

The Japanese deployed at least three hundred soldiers to conduct a comprehensive search in all directions, using the courtyard house as the center.

These soldiers were all wearing masks, some even gas masks, and rubber gloves, completely covering themselves up.

The clattering of leather boots on the bluestone slabs echoed from one alley to another, accompanied by the sounds of banging on doors and shouts.

Soon, they saw the warning letters that Xu Jiande had posted on the wall the night before.

Several Japanese soldiers carefully tore the notice down from the wall and ran to deliver it to the temporary command post.

Major General Sasaki sat on a grand chair that had been moved from the courtyard, looking at the notices.

The words on the notice were crooked and the wording was straightforward: anyone who dared to kill a citizen of Daxia would have to pay with ten Japanese soldiers' lives. Whether they were officers, logistics personnel, or family members and civilians in the city, they were all within the scope of retaliation.

Sasaki's expression changed.

Beyond anger, there is a deeper sense of gloom and fear, the feeling of having one's cards laid bare after being exposed.

This indicates that someone in Beijing knew their plans and preemptively threatened them, saying that if they dared to kill innocent residents of Beijing or use them for experiments, they would face bloody retaliation.

Judging from the current situation, the other party is capable of doing so.

That's the most terrifying thing.

On the other side, five experienced combat experts and trace experts are conducting a thorough investigation inside and outside the bombed-out courtyard.

They squatted on the ground, shining flashlights on the bullet holes and bloodstains on the bluestone slabs, and using the angle of the bullet holes on the wall to pick up the scattered shell casings one by one and put them into the evidence bag.

In the corner of the courtyard, there were piles of clothing fragments and military boots taken from the corpses, as well as the remains of soldiers who had been killed.

An hour later, a preliminary report was presented to Maki Sasaki.

The conclusion is relatively clear: the number of resistance fighters involved in last night's attack was small, no more than forty. They launched an attack simultaneously from four directions, with a clear objective: to destroy the house where special supplies were stored.

It was also mentioned that these individuals were extremely capable fighters with excellent marksmanship, particularly adept at night combat. Furthermore, judging from the traces left on the battlefield, some of the resistance fighters were likely wounded or killed, but their bodies were taken away by their comrades.

This indicates that they had a clear advantage in the battle and had enough time to clean up the battlefield.

After reading the report, Sasaki remained silent for a long time.

Sitting in the armchair, his fingers tapped on the armrest, his gaze fixed on the courtyard house more than a thousand meters away.

The bacterial samples behind the wooden board were still leaking. Although the concentration was very low, the faint smell still lingered in the air, as if someone had left a piece of rotten meat in a corner.

His original plan was to secretly deploy these bacteriological weapons to multiple locations in Beijing within a week to test their actual lethality, and at the same time use them as a deterrent to force the resistance forces in the city to submit.

But before the plan even began, someone stabbed us in the back at the most crucial point.

However, Sasaki Maki quickly made up his mind.

We will not accept any threats. The more the resistance fighters threaten us, the more it shows they are desperate and resorting to such desperate measures.

If they truly had enough power, they wouldn't have written any warning letters; they would have taken direct action.

Threats are the weapon of the weak; the strong do not need threats, but rather to eliminate directly.

Since the resistance fighters wanted to intimidate the Imperial Army in this way, they should tell them in the most direct way that threats were useless.

So he said to his subordinates, "First, capture one hundred Great Xia pigs."

Sasaki Maki's voice was calm, "Execute twenty more people today. Let them know the consequences of daring to resist the Imperial Army."

"Yes, Lord Sasaki!" The colonel named Sato stood at attention, bowed his head, turned around, and quickly left.

The clattering sound of leather boots on the bluestone slabs quickly faded away outside the courtyard gate.

After Sato had walked away, Sasa Maki said to another subordinate beside him, "Go and call Lou Bancheng here."

"Hi, Mr. Sasaki Maki." The colonel named Yagyu Yun immediately turned around and left the courtyard, taking two guards with him. He drove a jeep towards Lou Bancheng's house.