Siheyuan (traditional courtyard house): Starting with the Korean War, returning home to take charge

His ears were ringing incessantly, as if a swarm of crushed wasps had been stuffed inside. He Yuzhu lay prone at the bottom of the crater, his cheek pressed against the cold, mushy mud, his mouth filled with the earthy taste of grass roots and gravel he had swallowed while rolling around.

The shell exploded thirty meters away, the shockwave crashing down like an iron wall, shoving him hard into the bottom of the crater. His internal organs felt as if they had been displaced.

He shook his head, suppressed the ringing in his ears, and listened intently.

The shelling stopped. A deathly silence descended, broken only by the rustling of startled birds flapping their wings in the distant mountains.

coming.

In the mental reconnaissance map, the pale red dots that had temporarily retreated due to the artillery fire began to move again. Seven or eight of them, clustered together, were cautiously making their way up the path below—a standard search squad.

He spat out the mud from his mouth and moved his arms and legs. His bones weren't broken, but his whole body ached from the shock. The tattered cotton coat on his back was already torn to shreds, and the cold wind was blowing straight in.

Weapon check: Only five rounds of ammunition remained in the Mosin-Nagant's magazine. The grenades on his waist had been used up in the previous sniping.

Five bullets to take down a fully equipped search squad?

He twitched the corners of his mouth, revealing a cold smile. Then he put down the rifle, his right hand reaching for the bayonet catch under the barrel, twisting and pulling it out.

The bayonet was drawn from its sheath, heavy in my hand, its blade gleaming a faint blue in the dim light.

Only close-range combat is possible.

He gripped the bayonet in reverse, concealing the blade against the inside of his forearm. He curled up, squeezing into the shadows at the edge of the crater—a blind spot for the enemy above. He suppressed his breathing to the bare minimum, his heartbeat seemingly slowing. Only his eyes were fixed on the crater's edge, his ears catching every slight movement.

The footsteps drew closer.

Shh, shh. The soft sound of shoes crunching over frozen earth and gravel. The hushed English phrases conveyed alertness and tension.

A shadow was first cast on the opposite slope. Then, the rounded top of an M1 steel helmet slowly emerged from the edge of the pit. Eyes beneath the helmet quickly scanned the pit, and the M1 Garand rifle in hand moved with the gaze.

He Yuzhu remained motionless, like a stone.

The American soldier noticed nothing amiss, his gaze sweeping across the bottom of the crater—only churned earth and rubble. He breathed a slight sigh of relief, turned his head, and seemed to signal to his back that it was safe.

The moment he turned his head, the side of his neck, below his Adam's apple, was exposed without any cover.

He Yuzhu moved.

The curled-up body was suddenly released like a compressed spring! He sprang up from the shadows, not by lunging, but by leaping! His left hand shot out like lightning, not to grab a gun, but to precisely cover the other's slightly open mouth as he turned his head, his five fingers gripping the jawbone and pressing down hard! At the same time, his right arm thrust upwards from below, the bayonet slipping under the other's raised left arm and plunging deep into the exposed neck!

puff.

The dull thud of a sharp blade piercing flesh and cartilage filled the air. Blood gushed from the three-edged blood groove, warm liquid splattering onto He Yuzhu's hands and face. It was salty, pungent, and scalding hot.

The American soldier's eyes bulged, and he let out a hissing sound as all his strength vanished in an instant. His rifle slipped from his hand, but He Yuzhu caught it with his left hand.

He Yuzhu didn't stop.

He drew his bayonet, sending a spurt of blood flying. With his left hand, he pulled the stolen Garand into his arms, then with his right foot, he slammed against the crater wall, using the momentum to flip himself out of the crater!

The second American soldier was just two steps away, gun at the ready to guard the flank. Hearing the strange noise, he turned his head and saw a dark figure covered in mud and blood rush out! He opened his mouth in shock, not having time to turn his gun around, and instinctively retreated to shout.

He Yuzhu didn't give them a chance.

The moment he emerged from the crater, his right hand had already released the bayonet, his five fingers joined together to form a palm, and using the momentum of his forward spin, he delivered a simple and unadorned palm strike to the opponent's temple, which had been turned away in surprise!

boom.

A muffled thud. The soldier's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed silently, his gun slipping from his hand.

The third American soldier reacted a little faster. He had already seen his fallen comrade and the ghostly, blood-soaked figure rushing towards him. He screamed in terror and suddenly raised his M3 submachine gun!

too close.

He Yuzhu charged forward with undiminished momentum. Just as the enemy raised his gun, his right hand, which had just stunned the enemy, reached down and grabbed the barrel of the Garand gun on the ground. Using the momentum, he swung it horizontally like an iron rod!

Bang!

The wooden gunstock slammed heavily onto the opponent's arm as he raised his gun. The sound of bones cracking was clearly audible.

The soldier screamed in agony as his submachine gun flew from his hand. He Yuzhu released Garland, lunged forward, and slammed his knee into Garland's abdomen, followed closely by a heavy elbow strike to the side of his neck.

The screams abruptly stopped.

From the first probe to the third one falling, it only took five or six seconds.

Fast, ruthless, and precise. There are no superfluous movements; every strike is aimed at a vital point that could be fatal or cause unconsciousness. Adrenaline surges, the sense of time blurs, and only bodily instincts and the combat knowledge instilled by the system drive the action.

He Yuzhu stood panting between three bodies, some dead and some unconscious. The blood on his face and body quickly turned cold and became sticky. His stomach churned, but he forced it down.

There was no time to hesitate.

He quickly looted the body: he took the remaining Garand magazines (three of them were still full) from the first body; he found several submachine gun magazines and two MK2 grenades on the second body; and he stripped the third body of a relatively intact yellow-green winter jacket—it was stained with blood, but better than rags.

His Mosin-Nagant, with only five bullets left, was discarded without hesitation. He switched to a Garand and slung an M3 submachine gun over his shoulder.

Having done this, he glanced at the map. More red dots in the distance had been alerted and were rapidly approaching.

You can't go back the way you came, and you can't run in a straight line.

His gaze returned to the corpse on the ground. A cold, efficient thought popped into his head.

He moved swiftly, dragging the three bodies (including the unconscious one, whom he finished off with a stab) to a conspicuous spot at the edge of the crater, arranging them as if preparing to throw grenades or fire. Then, he removed the two MK2 grenades.

The first one, pull out the safety pin, without loosening the grip, carefully insert it into the half-clenched hand of a corpse, and loosely hold the grip with stiff fingers.

For the second one, remove the safety pin, loosen the grip, delay for about two seconds, and gently insert it into the crack in the rubble under the body, pressing it down with your body.

A simple booby trap. Searchers who see their companion's body will inevitably approach to examine or move it. Just a slight movement...

He didn't linger. He didn't even have time to put on the blood-stained jacket, but simply rolled it up and tucked it under his arm, then turned and disappeared into the deeper, steeper forest, a route different from both the company's main position and the enemy's approach.

Basic camouflage and full reconnaissance map access guide you to the most concealed and difficult routes.

Less than a minute after entering the woods, shouts and hurried footsteps of American soldiers could be heard in the distance behind us.

Immediately afterwards—

Boom! Boom!

Two explosions, almost overlapping! More violent than a hand grenade, accompanied by terrified screams and agonizing howls.

He Yuzhu didn't stop walking, nor did he turn his head.

Only in his mind did the system's notification sounds ring out one after another:

[Kill 3 US Private First Class, earn 150 points.]

[Triggering the achievement "Solo Assault" will grant an additional 50 points.]

[Triggering the "Tactical Trap" effect indirectly kills/injures 4 US soldiers, earning 200 points.]

[Current Main Battlefield Score: 13650/100,000,000]

He ventured deep into the dense forest, found a crevice hidden by fallen trees and vines, squeezed in with difficulty, and finally sat down with a thud, leaning against the cold rock, panting heavily.

Outside, the commotion and shouts of the American troops could be faintly heard, mixed with sporadic bursts of gunfire, as if they were venting their anger.

In the dark crevice of the rock, He Yuzhu slowly unfolded the blood-stained jacket.

The strong smell of blood was overwhelming. He endured it for a moment and put it on his almost naked upper body.

The rough fabric rubbed against the skin, carrying the warmth of a dead person and an ominous aura.

But... it's fucking warm.

He leaned against the rock, closed his eyes, and clutched the captured Garand tightly in his hand.

are you crazy?

Maybe.

But in this world, how can you survive without being a little crazy?