The War of Resistance

The gunshots gradually subsided, but the noise and crying sounded again. It was the people who started crying and calling for their relatives who were accidentally injured or killed in this search and arrest operation.

"Shut up your fucking mouth, you are making such a fuss, are you using it as a cover for the Japanese devils?" Old Mao Wang cursed in a courtyard.

What is the logic? Ordinary people are not allowed to cry when someone dies in their home. Instead, they are said to be related to the enemy agents.

But Old Mao Wang's yelling was just right!

The reason is that the two people who were beaten to death in their yard were really Japanese!

Under Wang Laomao's order, the two men had already been stripped off by the soldiers, leaving only a cloth belt, which was what Wang Laomao and his group often called their butt pockets.

Chinese people like to wear big pants, but the Japanese just wrap a cloth belt around their crotch to cover their private parts.

"Look at those bow legs, and look at the figure, which is much shorter than us Chinese, this f*cking Japanese devil!

What are you all shouting? You are harboring Japanese, that is treason! No more trouble! Go on and get you all caught in the fence! "Wang Laomao continued to play tricks on a crying housewife.

Old Mao Wang acted so fiercely that the woman finally shut her mouth.

The man in this family is already dead, he was killed by a bullet. As for who killed him, it is impossible to pursue it, or Old Mao Wang doesn't want to pursue it.

This was a poorly designed capture.

Those enemy agents were mixed among the civilians in this area, and there was no accurate investigation at all. This random arrest led to a battle. Of course, the enemy agents will be killed, and it is inevitable that some civilians will be accidentally injured. It is also true that some enemy agents escaped inevitable.

Old Mao Wang estimated that most of the enemy agents would have been killed by this, and that would be enough.

In the words of later generations, Wang Laomao belongs to the old-style army, not the people's army.

In his logic, he didn't think it would be enough to accidentally injure and kill a few civilians in such an arrest operation.

People like myself killed these Japanese devils in plain clothes, how many ordinary people were saved? What's more, He Liang's people also died. If a commoner was accidentally injured and killed, and a few people made such a fuss, what about those soldiers who died fighting for the country? Do soldiers deserve to die?

The din gradually subsided, and He Liang's military police had controlled the situation.

Soldiers control any compound where enemy agents are found.

Some enemy agents who were captured alive were brought out and gathered on the street. Of course, there were traitors among them, and there were also Japanese disguised as Chinese, but they were all beaten to death.

The reason here is naturally that the traitors raised their hands and surrendered when they saw that they could not escape when they were arrested, but the Japanese would never surrender.

"Boss, oops, are you injured? What are you holding in your hand?" Little Dustpan cried out in surprise when he saw Shang Zhen.

It's just because he saw that Shang Zhen's left hand was already wrapped with cloth and blood was leaking out, but he was holding a small object in his right hand.

"I was bitten by this thing, it might be the little devil's hidden weapon." Shang Zhen replied.

"Are you okay?" Little Dustpan asked with concern, seeing that Shang Zhen's hand was only wrapped with a piece of cloth, he guessed it was only a minor injury.

Even workers on construction sites, who often do civil work, will have some collisions and abrasions on their arms, hands and feet, not to mention soldiers like Shang Zhen who often go to the battlefield.

Not to mention that they were injured by the enemy's firepower, that is, when doing various tactical actions, their bodies will inevitably be bumped and scratched by various things such as land, stones and trees.

"It's okay." Shang Zhen said indifferently, and then he casually threw the small object in his hand towards the small dustpan.

Shang Zhen fell from that wall because he hurt the back of his hand with a sharp object.

After the battle, he was curious about what hurt him, so he searched outside the big wall, and found such an object.

The little dustpan saw that the object thrown by Shang Zhen was not big, but it was dark and sharp, so he didn't dare to reach out to pick it up.

When the thing fell to the ground, the little dustpan squatted down to look.

That thing is in the shape of a "ten", and it looks like two wooden sticks tied into a cross shape, but it is actually an iron object, and the four corners are polished extremely sharp.

"What kind of throw is this?" The little dustpan squatted down curiously, and picked up the object with his hands to observe it carefully.

But at this time Shang Zhen had already walked to the adjacent courtyard.

The big wall of this courtyard is very high, and it is also the courtyard where Shang Zhen fell from the big wall earlier.

Although no one is crying and making noise in the yard now, it still looks very messy.

Several soldiers were watching with rifles, and in the middle of the yard, there were dead people lying on the ground, civilians squatting on the ground, and the man with blood on his hands.

But Shang Zhen immediately noticed that a person had fallen under the eaves, apparently dead.

Shang Zhen also just took a look at the man's figure, and knew that this guy must be a Japanese.

"It should be the guy who injured you. When that guy jumped onto the roof, he was shot down by our brother from the other side of the house!

This dick is pretty good at throwing, and he can fly over walls, but so what if he can fly over walls? Can it be faster than Lao Tzu's gun? "Some soldiers scolded.

That soldier was He Liang's subordinate. When Shang Zhen fell from the wall, he saw it with his own eyes.

Shang Zhen approached the dead man, the guy had been turned over by the soldiers first, it was an ordinary face, if walking on the street, it was no different from a Chinese, but this face still made Shang Zhen feel disgusted .

Shang Zhen really wanted to lift his foot and crush this guy's face, but in the end he didn't do it.

Shang Zhen is not an extreme person, even though he has a grudge against the Japanese aggressors, he would not do similar acts of flogging corpses after death.

"What's going on with that?" Shang Zhen turned his head and saw the dead man in the yard.

"I don't know, maybe it's the common people, maybe it's the Japanese devils." The soldier replied.

Shang Zhen stepped forward and looked down at the dead man.

The deceased was in his forties, Shang Zhen felt that he should be Chinese.

He squatted down to examine carefully, and then he noticed that the dead man had calluses on his hands, but the calluses were not on the right index finger.

Veterans like Shang Zhen used their weapons all the year round and used their index fingers to pull the trigger, so there were calluses on those fingers.

But this person didn't, presumably he shouldn't be a soldier.

However, Shang Zhen's gaze immediately settled on the wound of the deceased.

The dead man's heart was already covered in blood, but the specific condition of the wound could not be seen clearly because of the cover of the clothes.

Shang Zhen thought for a while, pinched the bloody clothes with his fingertips and glanced at the wound.

As for what he saw, only he himself knows.

Then he stood up expressionlessly, and then looked at the two young men and a little boy beside the dead man.

The little boy looked like five or six years old, with tears and pain still on his face, he looked at the dead on the ground from time to time, but when he found Shang Zhen looking at himself, he hurriedly looked away again.

Obviously, the child has been frightened.

"Child, do you know this person?" Shang Zhen asked in a low voice.

On this point, Shang Zhen is different from Wang Laomao. Shang Zhen has never been a beard, and he sympathizes with the weak from the bottom of his heart.

The child looked at Shang Zhen in horror but remained silent.

"Don't be afraid, uncle is a good man, and he is here to help you catch the bad guys." Shang Zhen said again gently.

Shang Zhen had never dealt with such a child before, and he didn't know how to gain such a child's trust, so he could only explain in his own way.

If at this time he takes out a piece of candy and tells the child, don't be afraid, child! Mixi Mixi, then he is not Shang Zhen, then he is a Japanese devil!

Perhaps Shang Zhen's attitude made the child feel safe after all. After a while, the child timidly said two words: "Grandpa."

Shang Zhen couldn't help frowning, and sighed secretly in his heart, then he turned his eyes to the two young men squatting beside the dead man.

One of the men was about twenty-five or sixteen years old, his hands were covered with blood, and his condition was like that of a surgeon performing a disembowelment operation.

"Look up, what's the matter with you?" Shang Zhen stretched out his toes and lightly kicked the man who was squatting on the ground with bloody hands, but he didn't look at him.

"Save people." The man looked up and replied.

"Really?" Shang Zhen was noncommittal, his eyes moved away after meeting the man's.

At this time another man also raised his head, that man was thin, Shang Zhen looked at that man as if he saw himself when he just joined the army, when his nickname was "Ma Gan'er".

And Shang Zhen's eyes only stayed on the two men for a while, and then he looked at the little boy and asked, "Son, did you see who killed your grandfather? Tell the truth, I call the shots for you!"