Rise From Eight Hundred

It was too late.

While the soldiers of the security regiment were desperately running towards Songjiang City, Xiaocun Xiongyi could not wait to order the release of poison gas bombs.

The grenade fired by the grenade launcher was once again deflected by the hard tower body of the stone tower, and then exploded in the void, but this time, there was no deafening roar, nor was there a slight tremor caused by the air wave impacting the bluestone tower body.

After the dull "bang!" sound, a group of green and yellow smoke slowly dissipated in the highest floors of the pagoda and the void, and the holes around the pagoda inevitably entered the smoke.

"Dayu, keep going down, remember, hold your breath for me, don't breathe if you can." The crow lying on the ground on the top of the tower looked at the light green smoke that was slowly flowing around him, and roared at the bottom of the tower.

His face was already miserable.

He had tried his best to slow down his breathing, but the air was already filled with poisonous gas. Just a light breath made his throat feel burning.

The Japanese hated Crow for killing more than a dozen devils. Two grenade launcher teams hid behind the brick wall of the ruins and fired seven or eight grenades in one breath.

The continuously exploding poison gas bombs released a creepy light green and pungent smell. Not to mention Crow, who was in it, even Zhao Daqiang, who was dozens of meters away, couldn't help but cover his mouth and nose with his clothes.

The thick and substantial poison gas around the top of the tower could not be diluted even by the mist and rain in the south of the Yangtze River. It kept drilling in through the holes. In just one minute, not only did Crow's throat and lungs feel like they were stuffed with fire sticks, but even his exposed fingers were burning.

It was over. Crow knew that unless the Jade Emperor came down to earth to send him elixirs, he would be dead.

In a few minutes, he would be like what Lieutenant Colonel Tang Dao said. The poison gas would cause edema of the trachea and internal organs, and eventually he would be unable to breathe and suffocate to death.

That kind of pain was not something an ordinary person could bear.

He was not afraid of death.

Crow was actually very grateful to the clay Buddhas in Xilin Temple. Because of their protection, he killed at least a dozen Japanese invaders. Together with the few he had killed before, he had basically lived up to the oath he made to the heaven while kneeling on his knees that dark night.

If he could kill so many devils, he would not curse God in the future. Otherwise, he would keep cursing, even if he went to the King of Hell.

God and Buddha might also be afraid and help.

He completed his goal, and she, who was not yet engaged, should feel more at ease on the road! What's more, he was going to accompany her soon.

However, it didn't matter if he died, there was still a little bald head below! He still had to live, he had a group of brothers and sisters to support, and they had to help him tell those Songjiang people who returned home that he, Crow, was once one of the three evils of Songjiang, but he was not on the battlefield, and he had guarded his hometown with his life.

Who among the traditional Chinese people didn't want to leave a good reputation?

"Dayu, listen carefully. No matter what happens, you are not allowed to make any sound. When the devils leave, you will go down.

You have to live well and become an old man without teeth. Remember to burn some paper for your uncle Wu Ya during festivals in the future, and for your aunt who has not married yet. She likes to eat mochi stuffed with green bean paste. I have seen her love to eat this since I was a child. Don't forget it.

You also saw the small package I threw in the corner of the third floor of the pagoda. There are four big yellow croakers in it. That is the money I saved to marry your aunt. I don't need it anymore, so I will give it to you. Use this money to raise your brothers and sisters well, and tell them that when they grow up, they will return to Songjiang. This is a good place with many rich people!" Wu Ya lowered his eyelids and roared to the bottom.

Now he no longer cares whether the poison gas enters his respiratory tract, and his face, which used to twitch slightly because of pain, has returned to calm.

"Uncle Crow, what are you going to do! I'm scared when you say that!" The little bald man replied with a trembling voice.

Although he didn't know what Crow was going to do, the boy knew that his uncle, who was "wise and brave, and had superb marksmanship", was telling him about his afterlife.

The boy didn't want to die, nor did he want the man who was already so tall in his heart to die.

Compared to killing the devils, the little boy hoped that both of them would be alive.

However, that was the boy's wishful thinking.

Only those who have experienced it will know that this war is not just a national war, but a political power that was destroyed by the other side, and it was just as simple as changing the ruler.

This is a clan war, one clan is destroyed and the other clan survives, and there is no other result.

Just like the Mongols hundreds of years ago, after almost completely destroying the inheritance of the Yellow River civilization, if they hadn't corrupted and fallen at a dazzling speed, perhaps the Yellow River civilization that had been running in the long river of time for thousands of years would have completely disappeared in the long river of history, just like many annihilated grassland civilizations.

The 'short-legged' people, who have a more stable social structure and are better at learning, will hardly make that mistake. Once they succeed, there will be no place for them to stand on this rich land where the Chinese people have lived for tens of thousands of years.

If you want to live, it will not be based on your personal will.

"Uncle Crow! Woo! I don't want you to die." The little bald man couldn't help sobbing.

"Little red man, I'm not dead yet, why are you crying!" Crow roared and scolded the crying boy. Hearing the crying sound downstairs gradually subsided, the boy could only try to suppress his sobs. He finally felt reluctant and whispered: "I have inhaled poison gas and will not live long, but you must live well for me, otherwise, I, Crow, may die and still bear the name of the three evils of Songjiang. Do you hear me?"

"Uncle Crow, I beg you not to die..." The boy had already burst into tears.

He had never heard of the three evils of Songjiang. He only knew that Uncle Crow was a good man and would rather die than save him.

This time, Crow ignored the boy who had already gone down to the sixth floor, but unscrewed the back cover of the last four grenades, inserted them all into the belt behind his trousers, and then covered them with a wide military uniform.

The terrible poison gas had stimulated him so much that he almost dared not open his eyes. Enduring the pain in his chest, Crow carried a machine gun and a rifle, touched the wooden stairs in the pagoda, and walked down with difficulty.

Going down five floors, there is finally a small wooden door on the gradually spacious tower, from which you can go out of the pagoda to repair the eaves with copper bells hanging on them.

Crow kicked the wooden door open, leaned out, and then waved desperately.

"Yoshi, the Chinese can't stand it anymore and want to surrender!" Xiaocun Xiongyi, who was dozens of meters away, was overjoyed.

A living Chinese, even if he has inhaled a lot of poison gas, will die in a few hours, but he can breathe before being sent to the regiment headquarters, which must be more useful than a corpse.

What's more, he is a surrendered soldier, and the two Excellencies, the regiment commander and the detachment commander, may use this to hit the morale of the Chinese in the city.

Sure enough, there is no tough man under the poison gas.

Xiaocun Xiongyi smiled, but he couldn't help but sigh in his heart. What kind of pain did he have for the special bullet he held that made this man with a will as strong as steel surrender?

"Order, no one is allowed to attack him again." Xiaocun Xiongyi gave the order while waving to the translator who was hiding behind him: "Mr. Zhu, go tell him that he can surrender, but he must show sincerity first and drop all his weapons."

The translator, accompanied by two Japanese infantrymen, walked 30 meters away carefully wearing a gas mask with a bitter face, then took off the gas mask and hid behind the low wall, shouting at the top of the crow to drop the weapon, and then quickly put on the gas mask, fearing that he would be contaminated with terrible poison gas.

Crow was very single, and he dropped all the rifles and machine guns he brought down from the top of the tower, including the Mauser pistol on his waist and the bullet belt he was carrying, one by one, leaving these precious guns, which were no less than life for the soldiers, to crash into pieces on the hard ground.

The Japanese did not want to seize weapons, but to completely lose his ability to fight back.

In order to show that he had no more weapons, Crow even turned half a circle on the pagoda, exposing his back to the Japanese. Four grenades were inserted side by side on his belt and hidden under the rather wide uniform of the security regiment. From a distance, there was almost no abnormality.

When the guns and the half-empty bullet belt were thrown away, Xiaocun Xiongyi, who was walking towards this side, had already made up his mind.

Of course, he did not mean to look down on the Chinese surrendered soldiers who were still nearly 20 meters high. Only those who have witnessed the great pain brought by mustard gas bombs with their own eyes will know that such pain is not something that living things can resist.

The Chinese who died of suffocation on the captured position even dug deep finger marks on the hard ground because of the great pain.

Zhao Daqiang, who moved to a place and huddled in the ruins of a house that was half burned and collapsed, also witnessed all this.

When he saw that the security army threw all his guns from the sky under the shouting of the bastard translator who forgot his ancestors,

The tough-tempered guard squad leader almost suffocated and was so angry that he died.