Unable to stay still on the mountain road, the Japanese and puppet soldiers who had managed to survive by lying down in the bushes began to climb up the mountain.
The crazy pursuit of poisonous bees also stimulated them even more. For hundreds of days, the puppet troops squeezed through the bushes like locusts and were covered with thorns while shooting and climbing up the mountain.
If you stay on the mountain road, you can only die, either by a cannonball, stung by the remaining poisonous bees, or by a row of bullets that occasionally fly down from the mountains on both sides.
Their thirst for life makes them no longer afraid of thorns that can easily pierce their flesh, and they even tear apart the dense thorn bushes with their hands, even if their hands are dripping with blood.
People's fear of death is unstoppable by anything. Only those who are shrouded in the shadow of death can understand this.
Subconsciously, the mountain on the side of the high-altitude projectile became the choice of all the Japanese and puppet troops, because there are machine guns here and they like to engage in biological warfare, which instinctively makes them think that the threat is greater.
On the battlefield, one always has to eliminate the enemy that poses the greatest threat to oneself.
The 70 or 80 bandits led by the cheap man closest to the foot of the mountain were the first to bear the brunt. The bullets of the already crazy Japanese and puppet troops passed through the jungle, directly mowing down nearly ten people.
It is said that the pointed bullets of the Type 38 rifle have too much kinetic energy due to their pursuit of range. After being shot into the human body, they tend to pass through the body and reduce the lethality.
In fact, that is because you have never personally experienced being shot by a 6.5mm bullet. The bullet penetrated the human body, but the bullet hole left was definitely not a hole the size of a bullet as people imagine, but at least the size of a wine cup.
Imagine that a person who was chatting and laughing with you just now suddenly has a blood hole the size of a wine cup in his chest. Due to the huge pressure difference between the body and the outside, the blood is forced to spurt out to form a terrible blood mist, which spits out on your chest.
On his face, his eyes are dim. He wants to talk to you, but because his life is gradually passing away, he doesn't even have the strength to move his lips.
What would you do?
Be sad? Be angry? Be crazy? Or, be afraid...
Perhaps, these emotions will be mixed together.
A cowardly person, in front of the enemy's crazy front, will retreat because fear takes over. A brave person will face the difficulty, just because he is his brother.
Therefore, when Diao Ye blankly wiped away the blood on his face that was sprayed from the chest of a bandit beside him and covered his cheeks, his eyes were redder than the blood on his face for an instant.
"Chen Laosan, Zhao Laowu, let go of those sons of bitches with stones, let me do it!" the idiot man roared at the top of his lungs.
The bandits who are responsible for guarding the dozen or so traps on the mountainside are in great mourning. Of course they can let go. Each trap has thousands of kilograms of stones. As long as they trigger the trap, they will definitely be able to kill those who have crawled in.
There is no place to hide in the bushes for the enemies to deal a terrifying blow.
However, under the countless boulders, there were not only enemies, but also seven or eighty brothers who had sneaked down the mountain only a few dozen meters away from the mountain path in order to launch a poisonous bee battle. As soon as the boulder was big, they were also within the range of the rock rolling wildly.
"You bastard Chen Laosan, if you don't let her go, I will snatch your daughter and make her my wife when I return to the mountain. It's better for you to let her go!" the bastard man howled crazily in the woods at the foot of the mountain.
When the bandits around him saw their boss like this, they looked around at the enemies who had knocked them down. Some of them had died, and some were still twitching slightly. They also had more air coming out and less air coming in. Their eyes turned red, and they yelled together: "Mr. Chen
Three, let go.”
"Chen Laosan, let go."
"Chen Laosan, let go."
The roars erupted by dozens of people at the same time echoed between the two mountains. For a moment, they even drowned out the rumbling cannons. Even the artillerymen led by Sun Hongzhen three miles away seemed to hear the sound.
Even iron-blooded warriors like Chen Yunfa and Mo Maomao, who have experienced more than a dozen life-and-death fights and have tempered their nerves like steel poured into iron, couldn't help but feel a pain in their hearts after hearing the roar stirred up by the mountains.
pain.
They also know that once the mechanism is pulled down, boulders weighing tens of thousands of kilograms will roll down the hillside. It is impossible for people on the rolling path of the boulders to survive. There will not be one out of ten people there.
The mortality rate is as high as 90%.
They are bandits, refugees, and people from the lowest class living in poor China, but the choices they make are purely tearful. In order to avenge their brothers, and in order for more brothers to survive, they would rather, themselves
Not alive anymore.
Just like a death squad, standing on the top of the mountain, roaring: Fire at me.
The Japanese couldn't understand what the Chinese were yelling dozens of meters away, which in turn irritated them even more. They started to scream and shoot and continued to climb up.
But the puppet soldiers understood, and their faces instantly turned pale.
Bandits, what can you put in there?
They will never fart. The only things they can fart are the boulders and logs that they have already demonstrated their power with.
"Chen Laosan, you are such a fool! You should let go! If you don't let go, I will lead my brothers and rush down." The idiot man took a shell gun and shot down the mountain, jumping on his feet and roaring.
"Let it go, let it go, let it go..." A bandit on the mountainside also roared angrily and suddenly removed the trap in his hand.
The moment the leader issued the order, more than a dozen switches were all pulled. This was Qinglong Mountain's last trump card. After this move, all that was left was to rely on the swords and guns in his hands.
A middle-aged man in his forties squatted on the ground and cried loudly, not even paying attention to the banging stray bullets hitting him.
With a "boom", the boulder that was let go of the fence and freed slowly rolled downwards due to gravity, and then gradually accelerated, like a little pony that had been kept in a pen for seven or eight days and was suddenly let out to have fun.
Cheering, jumping, and running down the mountain. Along the way, whether it was trees with thick legs or shrubs that were once considered tough, they all started running wildly, carrying their own weight of 100 or even more than 200 jins and 200 kilograms.
The huge boulder with a potential energy of 3 meters high smashed and flew away.
No one can stop the determination of the boulders to return to Mother Earth. After they run a hundred meters, they can smash even a tank into scrap metal.
Looking down from the mountain, it feels like you are seeing galloping horses running wildly on the green grassland. The grass is split into countless traces visible to the naked eye. The scene is so spectacular that it makes people's scalp numb.
.
But for the Japanese and puppet soldiers who were trying hard to climb up the mountain for thirty meters, it was not as simple as a numb scalp. It would really scare Xiang.
Scared to the point of peeing is not enough to describe the despair in their hearts.
Venomous bees, cannons, and crazy carriages are nothing compared to this.
Those all have reasons to continue to live.
Now, it's gone.
There is no place to hide, no place to escape, the only thing you can do is to shrink your body into a ball and reduce the area. It would be best if you balled up into a grain of sand, and it would be better if you could ball up into a ball smaller than a bacterium.
The rest is left to God. It depends on whether I have done any good things in my previous life. What if it happens?
The boulder sang happily all the way, destroying all the creatures it touched on the hillside, whether it was plants or animals, all of which became the not-so-rich paint that decorated the boulder.
The fate of the Japanese and puppet troops was decided the moment the boulder fell.