Chapter 74: My Name Is Li Huai, The “bad” In Bad Guy
A flash of fire erupted from the gun muzzle, the bullet grazing Sato Take’s neck and embedding into the brick wall behind him, sparking a trail of fireflies.
He was very lucky, nearly hit, but the little Japanese devil beside him was not so fortunate.
The sizing machine heavily crushed two little Japanese devils. Before they could react, Zhou Weilong fired two shots with a “bang bang,” sending them directly to meet Amaterasu.
“Baka,” Sato Take roared in anger, “Kill them!”
The remaining little Japanese devils heard the order and raised their Nambu pistols to fire back upstairs. At that moment, a figure gripping a submachine gun leaped out from the crowd.
“Da da da,” the Type 14 Submachine Gun’s burst fire was like a gale of bullets, dense ammunition sweeping toward the second floor area like pouring water.
“Ding ding ding,” sparks crazily danced on the steel machines, shattered ceramic yarn tubes and broken yarn threads flying everywhere, the air filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder.
“Fuck your mother, little Japanese devils.” Zhou Weilong roared, fiercely leaping forward, his body sliding tightly against the cold damp ground into the gap beneath two side-by-side roving frames.
The following bullets “thud thud thud” struck the machine’s thick cast iron base, leaving deep dents, debris flying.
Zhou Weilong lightly kicked off the machine body with his heel, using the momentum to flash out from under the machine. Before the opponent could react, he raised his hand and fired two shots “bang bang” at the little Japanese devil holding the submachine gun.
These two shots were not aimed to precisely hit, but to suppress and locate!
As the gunfire fell, a muffled grunt and a short Japanese curse came from behind the bobbin winder, and the submachine gun fire immediately went silent.
Clearly, the gunman had been hit in the body by Zhou Weilong, temporarily losing his ability to attack.
Without the submachine gun fire suppression, the Loyal Salvation Army members upstairs seized a chance to breathe, firing downward one after another, immediately suppressing the firepower on Sato Take’s side.
“Surround them from front and back, don’t let a single little Japanese devil escape.” Zhou Weilong shouted sharply.
Two Loyal Salvation Army members on the second floor immediately jumped down from above, while others flashed out from behind a group of dye vats on the side, attempting to cut off the little Japanese devils’ retreat route to the workshop back door.
“Stop, if you want Hu Xinmin’s life, then stop.” A frantic voice rang out from behind the sizing machine.
Sato Take hid his body behind Hu Xinmin, the Nambu pistol firmly pressed against Hu Xinmin’s occiput.
By now, he had realized that the emergency gathering agreed upon for tonight was actually a kill trap.
Hu Xinmin had not summoned Military Statistics Bureau people at all. Judging by their attack methods and coordination, these should be soldiers fresh from the battlefield.
After all, Military Statistics Bureau assassins’ attack methods were all too familiar—lone operatives, each with exceptional skills.
Once engaging in group combat like this, their coordination would never be this smooth.
Of course, this also related to the inherent characteristics of Military Statistics Bureau agents.
They rarely gathered in groups for training; missions were often carried out alone.
Precisely because of this, once at a disadvantage, these agents would opt for a life-for-life exchange, launching suicide attacks.
Few were as calm and decisive as Zhou Weilong, utilizing himself to create opportunities for his comrades.
“You’re not Military Statistics Bureau, you’re Loyal Salvation Army members.” Sato Take pressed against Hu Xinmin and slowly advanced: “I know your goal is definitely to rescue Mr. Hu.”
“How about we make a deal: let my men leave, and I’ll return Mr. Hu to you. Otherwise, you can only take his corpse back.”
Hu Xinmin shouted loudly: “Brothers, don’t listen to him, send me on my way.”
“With these little Japanese devils as company in death, I’ve gotten my money’s worth.”
“Baka.” Sato Take smashed the gun handle viciously onto Hu Xinmin’s forehead. Instantly, a stream of blood flowed down from Hu Xinmin’s forehead.
“Friend, I’ll count to three. Let my men leave, and I’ll return Hu Xinmin to you.”
“One, two.”
“Alright, we’ll let you go.” Zhou Weilong’s voice slowly rang out.
He was very helpless. If on the battlefield, his choice would definitely prioritize killing the little Japanese devils.
For that purpose, he could disregard everything.
But this operation was a mission assigned by superiors, and the mission objective was not to kill little Japanese devils, but to rescue Hu Xinmin.
Soldiers prioritize obeying orders. To guarantee Hu Xinmin’s safety, he could only compromise with the enemy.
Opportunities to kill Japanese devils would come plenty later, but Hu Xinmin only had one life.
“Suichuan, can you still walk?” Sato Take asked toward Suichuan Xiong Ye hiding behind the sizing machine.
Suichuan Xiong Ye was the one who had just swept with the Type 14 submachine gun. His right hand had been hit by Zhou Weilong, and blood had now soaked half his arm.
“Sato, I won’t die, I can still move.”
Sato Take said loudly: “Suichuan, you take the men and go from the back door.”
Zhou Weilong was slightly stunned, instantly understanding Sato Take’s intent: he wanted to split his forces.
He would stay here to hold off the Loyal Salvation Army, letting his team escape in another direction. That way, even if Zhou Weilong wanted to kill them all, he wouldn’t have time.
“Hai.” Suichuan Xiong Ye nodded, struggling to stand. Slowly, the few Japanese devils hiding behind the machines cautiously poked their heads out and gathered toward Suichuan Xiong Ye.
Loyal Salvation Army members each hid behind machines, their guns already aimed at that group of Japanese devils.
But without Zhou Weilong’s order, they didn’t dare fire recklessly.
Kick, kick—the sound of military boots on the ground faded farther away, that group of little Japanese devils gradually receding, disappearing from sight.
“Team Leader Sato, we’ve kept our promise and let your men go. Now, shouldn’t you return Station Chief Hu to us?”
“Of course, but wait until I’m safe.” Sato Take controlled Hu Xinmin to move in the opposite direction from where the Japanese soldiers had left.
The two figures slowly retreated to the workshop entrance. Just as Sato Take thought everything was about to end smoothly.
Suddenly, a streak of cold gleam flashed in the night, a dagger accurately stabbing his neck. Sato Take had one hand on Hu Xinmin and the other gripping the pistol against Hu Xinmin’s occiput.
Now suddenly attacked, he had no time to react. The attacker had long anticipated he might fire; the instant the dagger pierced his neck, Sato Take’s gun-holding right hand was firmly controlled.
The dagger was withdrawn, a spray of blood erupting, mixing with rainwater onto the attacker’s chest.
“Heh heh.” An unwilling sound came from Sato Take’s throat. The newcomer licked the blood from the dagger and said coldly: “Remember Grandpa’s name, so when King Yama asks, you’ll have an answer. Grandpa’s name is Li Huai, the ‘huai’ from bad guy…”
Seeing Li Huai take out Sato Take, the people inside slowly closed in under Zhou Weilong’s lead.
“Station Chief Hu, you’ve suffered. Let’s go…”
