The Japanese soldier, who was firmly held down by Zhang Sixing, used his arms to block the bear claw blade that was trying to slash his neck.
But under the control of Zhang Sixing's absolute power, the sharp edge shining with light like stars was getting closer and closer to his neck.
"What kind of army are you?"
A pure Japanese Tokyo accent sounded, which almost made the Japanese soldiers who were under control cry with joy.
Could it be that he is one of our own, could it be just a misunderstanding, could it be...
"Marine Corps, Imperial Japanese Sea..."
However, he guessed everything wrong. The blade getting closer and closer to his neck showed that the inhuman guy in front of him was an enemy.
He wanted to struggle, but neither of his hands was as strong as one arm.
The Japanese soldier who had already mustered up the courage to fight desperately pushed Zhang Sixing's arm away, baring his teeth and staring.
It's a pity that he is already doomed.
The sharp blade pierced Jia's neck and slashed him.
The dying Japanese soldier tried his best to cover the bleeding aorta with his hands, but the blood rushed to the lungs and mouth along the cut throat.
The strong pressure of arterial blood causes blood to spurt out of the mouth and nose.
At this time, Zhang Sixing had already picked up a crooked handle, a box with more than half of the remaining bullets, and his own "single frame."
Taking a step of three meters out of the field fortification, Zhang Sixing thought vaguely:
It turned out that the Japanese Marines were fighting against the Four Lines Lonely Army.
This...it's not my fault, it's not in the textbook.
Thinking about it, my eyes quickly scanned the ground in front of me.
Cover, in any situation on the battlefield, you must find a suitable hiding place as soon as possible.
Carrying crooked handles and boxed ammunition, before approaching the stronghold, I was greeted by the Chinese troops inside the stronghold.
"Quack quack quack"
The dry sound of the Czech machine gun was not very loud on the battlefield with the roar of war.
After several rolls and even the use of hands and feet, the shooter managed to get into a crater before he could get used to his speed and teach him a lesson with bullets.
Huddled under the crater and endured machine gun fire, shouting in Mandarin,
"Don't fight blindly, we are one of our own, why can't you understand?"
In fact, he knew in his heart that on the battlefield where he had never seen ghillie suits and ostrich boots, he was not on the same side as anyone.
No soldier from any side would think that they are on the same side as the monster.
It's all because of the ostrich boots he's wearing.
This is a piece of equipment in extreme sports - ostrich boots, with a top speed of 40 kilometers per hour.
In fact, many extreme sports equipment has huge military potential, such as paragliding.
The people in the stronghold didn't seem to hear him, or thought he was a monster. The Czech machine gun continued to spray bullets in a hoarse voice.
"Hey, these grandsons..."
I couldn't say this, so I took off my ostrich boots and put them in my backpack, and threw out the mourning stick-like rifle and crooked handle.
At this time, Na Ting found that his Czech machine gun had stopped. He didn't know whether it was because of changing the magazine or for other reasons.
No more bullets were flying, and Zhang Sixing even raised his hands.
However, at this moment, the Czech gun that had just been shot made a hoarse "quacking" sound again.
Without thinking, he immediately retreated under the crater. After eating a mouthful of dirt, he shrank his neck and murmured,
"Nima, you can see clearly, I'm wearing German style..."
On second thought, he understood the reason for being shot. Chinese soldiers had never seen German paratroopers, let alone the concept of paratroopers.
but……
"I'm German, so don't hit me blindly."
The German language, which was very different from the warring parties, sounded, and the Czech machine gun stopped immediately.
He might be a German weapon engineer, directly trained by the German officer corps. Even if he doesn't speak German, he can still hear the sound.
"I'll go over there, don't shoot."
As he spoke, Zhang Sixing turned over and got out of the crater, picked up his equipment and ran towards the stronghold.
It seems that neither the outfit nor the Chinese language can withstand the power of a few German sentences, which makes me a bit dumbfounded.
At this time, there was still the sound of bullets flying by his side, but it was from the Japanese side, so there was nothing that could be done about it.
Fortunately, we reached a sheltered area within a few steps, and before we could catch our breath, the sound of chaotic footsteps suddenly came out.
He could tell by the footsteps that he was a Chinese soldier, so he took out his cigarette and lit it without any nervousness.
When he raised his head, a group of soldiers wearing various military uniforms and using various weapons had surrounded him.
There were German armorers and people wearing green, yellow, and gray military uniforms, and they were wearing various different helmets.
There are British army rice bowl-shaped helmets and French army helmets with reinforced ribs.
The leader was a long-faced, middle-aged battalion commander wearing a gray military uniform and only a cloth military cap. However, he didn't look as ruthless as a battalion commander.
He pushed the brim of his hat with a box cannon, then pointed the gun at Zhang Sixing's head. When he opened his mouth, it was Guipu.
"What are you trying to do with Huo Di? You are here pretending to be a German instructor with a sharp tongue, and your clothes don't look like thief."
Zhang Sixing did not answer such questions.
He just tapped the crooked handle with his chin and kicked the bullet box with his foot.
"Put it on the shelf wherever it is needed, and give the bullets back to the Japanese."
No one moved the soldier who pointed the gun at him. Even though his Mandarin was very standard, the vigilance in everyone's eyes did not dissipate.
Suddenly, the soldiers were pushed away rather rudely, and then a few fluent German words were heard.
"What are you doing? Who asked you to point a gun at a German?"
Following the sound, a tall guy with a cigarette butt in the corner of his mouth squeezed in.
Without a helmet, his blond hair looked like gray straw.
On his slender face, his blue eyes were tight, full of tension and a hint of despair.
The military uniform was not neatly worn and there was a sergeant collar badge around the neck, and there was a faint smell of alcohol.
This made Zhang Sixing very unhappy. He glared at the soldiers in front of him and suddenly shouted in German,
"Cheer up, you are a German soldier, you can't embarrass the army like this."
The sergeant was startled when he suddenly heard German with an officer tone.
Looking at Zhang Sixing's outfit, we immediately understood that this person was of a high level.
Wearing an Air Force M38 field suit, there is a Knight's Cross of Iron Cross hanging under his neck, an Iron Cross of Second Class in the second buttonhole, and an Iron Cross of First Class in the left breast pocket.
What kind of person is a soldier who can win three Iron Cross medals?
He hurriedly dropped the cigarette butt from his mouth and licked it, quickly arranged his uniform with trembling fingers, and at the same time defended with trembling lips,
"If the translator is dead, they won't be able to listen..."
Then he clicked his heels fiercely, and the aura of a frontline soldier returned to him.
Seeing his appearance, the Chinese soldiers around him put away their weapons, and even put their guns at their feet and stood at attention.
"I am Second Lieutenant Heinrich Lister of the German Paratroopers Special Operations Force. Don't worry, I have retired. This is my proof."
He looked at the guy in front of him sternly, took out his retirement certificate from his pocket, shook it open and handed it over.
The sergeant took it with both hands respectfully and quickly returned it to him after just one glance.
Then he saluted, raised his head and shouted,
"Hello, sir"
After looking at him, Zhang Sixing didn't say much.
There were many German soldiers on the Songhu battlefield, and the officer corps even directly participated in the command. It was not surprising that a German appeared.
"Take a break. Now go put on your equipment and come back to me. We still have to fight tonight."
After saying that, he turned around and asked the leading Guijun battalion commander,
"Which section are you from? Why haven't you retreated yet? The entire Shanghai market, except for the Sihang Warehouse, belongs to the Japanese."