Quickly conquer the martial arts world, and let your fists dominate the heavens!

Chapter 260 Hidden
The Japanese soldiers surrounding Chen Zhan were also firing. They had initially been afraid that the bullets would hit Tsukishima and Kawashima Hirako, but now they had no more scruples and were firing wildly.

When the blood spurted out, Chen Zhanren had already left the spot, winding his way through the dense line of gunfire towards a less populated area.

With twin swords in hand, Chen Zhan cut down countless Japanese soldiers. Like an immortal war god, he was like a tiger among sheep, slaughtering them relentlessly before choosing a densely packed area to escape.

He managed to break through the encirclement of thousands of people.

The gunfire was more intense than raindrops; it was unclear how many shots hit the enemy, not even to the Japanese, nor to Chen Zhan himself.

Anyway, he was shot several times in his back, arms, legs, and even between his fingers.

Chen Zhan broke free from the encirclement and wandered through the streets and alleys late at night. His pursuers chased him for several blocks before disappearing completely.

With his speed and stealth abilities, if he wanted to hide, no one could find him.

There was no time to treat the injuries. Seeing that it was almost dawn, leaving the city was not a good idea. There were more Japanese soldiers outside the city, and there was no medicine available for treatment.

"Huhuhu~"

Chen Zhan took a few breaths in the shadows. The air entering his lungs felt burning hot. The first two shots were the most terrifying; one shot pierced through his lung lobe!

Another shot broke three ribs, which became lodged in the ribcage.

As Chen Zhan assessed his injuries, he pondered where to go.

He quickly realized where he was going, stepped out of the shadows, and took out a new outfit from somewhere—a gray long gown. Chen Zhan changed his appearance again and headed towards the east of the city.

The "Huichuntang" pharmacy in the east of the city had just lit an oil lamp. The commotion in the city was too great. Although there had been occasional gunshots before, tonight was really frightening. The cannon fire was deafening, almost as loud as it had been more than a year ago.

Behind the wooden counter, the old shopkeeper was hunched over, sorting through his money.

The copper scales, mortar and pestle on the counter, and the medicine cabinet against the wall were all neatly arranged, with red paper strips labeled "Angelica sinensis," "Panax notoginseng," and "Hemostatic herb" pasted on the drawers.

The old shopkeeper calculated and muttered to himself:

"Oh no, oh no, we can't stay in Fengtian any longer. But where can we go? If this whole family goes south out of the city, we'll be robbed and killed before we can get through the pass."

"Oh dear, what's wrong with this world? What are we going to do?"

The door hinges creaked open, startling the shopkeeper awake.

The old man looked up and saw a middle-aged man in a gray jacket, pale-faced but with sharp eyes. Just as he was about to ask a question, Chen Zhan took out a wad of silver dollars from his pocket and slapped it on the counter. He lowered his voice and said, "Hemostatic powder, wound medicine, tweezers, gauze, and a small knife for removing bullets, all wrapped up."

The shopkeeper glanced at the stack of silver dollars, enough to buy half a pharmacy, and then noticed the dark red bloodstains seeping from Chen Zhan's sleeve. His heart skipped a beat.

"Don't ask, just do what I tell you to do, nothing will happen," Chen Zhan said calmly, seeing the old shopkeeper's alarm.

The old shopkeeper, being pragmatic, didn't dare ask any more questions. He turned around and ran to the medicine cabinet, his fingers flying across the drawer. He quickly wrapped an oil paper package and handed it over.

Chen Zhan took the bag, said nothing more, turned and disappeared out the door, leaving the shopkeeper staring blankly at the stack of silver dollars.

No sooner had this person left than the sound of Japanese soldiers' leather shoes came from the alley entrance, the hooves of horses clattering on the bluestone slabs, mixed with shouts in Japanese, clearly indicating a search and arrest operation.

With his medicine bag tucked in his hand, Chen Zhan wandered through the alleyways, his wounds under his gray coat tearing at his lungs with every movement, and every breath he took carried the stench of blood.

The sky was beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn when he finally reached the side wall of the Fengtian Marshal's Mansion.

The vermilion gate was tightly closed, and two stone lions in front of it were covered with a thin layer of dust. The courtyard wall was twelve feet high, and broken glass stuck on top of it stood starkly.

Glancing left and right, seeing no one at the alley entrance, she lightly touched the ground with her foot, her figure gliding over the wall like a kite, landing under the corridor in the courtyard. She deliberately relaxed her strength when landing, so as not to disturb a single feather in the mansion.

The Marshal's Mansion was very quiet; the young marshal had taken his family to the capital.

The vermilion gate of the main courtyard was locked with a copper lock, and the pomegranate tree in the courtyard was covered with withered leaves. Only the east wing room still exuded a bit of life. Even when no one was there, someone had to stay to clean and live there, so that the life would never be interrupted.

The young marshal never imagined that he would never be able to return to the Fengtian Marshal's Mansion again in his lifetime.

Chen Zhan crept along the pillars of the corridor, past the courtyard planted with banana trees, and saw a soft light shining through the window paper of a main room. It wasn't the light of an oil lamp, but the warm light of a Western table lamp.

He moistened his fingertip with saliva, gently poked a hole in the window paper, and saw that it was a woman's boudoir inside.

On the dressing table were silver mirror frames and beaded hairpins. In front of the mirror was a light green embroidered skirt with mandarin ducks embroidered on the hem. Hanging above the bed was a half-finished cross-stitch, with fine stitches, clearly indicating that the room was usually occupied but temporarily vacant.

According to the layout of the Marshal's Mansion, Chen Zhan had already gone deep into the innermost courtyard. This was still a main room, which must have been the room of the female members of the household, indicating that they held a high status.

He had to choose this kind of room to hide in. There were still many servants in the Marshal's Mansion. He needed to heal his wounds, which might cause some noise, so he couldn't be disturbed.

With a gentle flip, it landed silently inside the room, gripping the windowsill.

The landing aggravated the injury under his ribs, and Chen Zhan groaned, quickly grabbing the dressing table to steady himself.

The clock inside ticked away, making the sounds outside all the more distinct. Chen Zhan had excellent hearing and could hear the sound of Japanese soldiers' boots in the distance, along with a few gunshots. It must have been the search party questioning passersby.

Chen Zhan walked behind the bed, pulled the bed curtains to cover himself, and took out tweezers and a small knife from the oil paper package. He first tore off his gray coat, revealing a blood-stained undergarment. The wound on his back was still bleeding, and the fabric at his ribs was soaked through with blood and stiff. The bleeding was only a little, which was already a result of his best efforts to control after examining his internal organs. He hadn't let any blood fall to the ground along the way.

Gritting his teeth, he tore open his inner garment. The bronze mirror reflected the bullet holes on his back. The bullet holes were densely packed all over his back, some deep, some shallow, some large, and some small.

His back looked less like flesh and blood and more like a sieve riddled with tiny holes.

Most of them only penetrate two-thirds of the way through, with the bullet tail remaining outside the skin and flesh, yellowish in color. Not much blood flows out; most of it stains the bullet itself.

This is a back, legs, buttocks, arms, chest, almost any location where bullets are embedded.

For a normal person, let alone this kind of injury, even one-tenth of the bullets would be fatal.

But Chen Zhan seemed completely unaffected; he could still move, speak, and even kill people.

Chen Zhan glanced at it and then looked away.

He would sit cross-legged for an hour and kill people all night long. The number of people who died at his hands was countless, and he himself couldn't even count them.

Although the bursts of qi and blood lasted only a short time, they still consumed a great deal of energy.

The physical and mental strain was manageable, but the most important thing was the mental strain. The threat posed by the dozen or so long-range sharpshooters was the greatest, arguably the greatest threat he had ever faced before.

The vast majority of divine will was trying to avoid those dozen or so guns.

Specially made bullets and firearms, specifically designed to deal with martial arts practitioners.

Japan has martial arts masters, and they must also know that top masters can dodge bullets, and that one or two shots from ordinary firearms are not fatal and cannot deprive the opponent of their explosive power in a short time.

So this is what was prepared for him.

After regaining some mental and physical strength, I drank a couple of sips of the water I had brought and placed a white cloth behind my back.

Chen Zhan began to circulate his muscles and bones.

The muscles on his back undulated like a dragon, surging back and forth like waves. His large keel exerted force, and the muscles squeezed together, causing the dense, terrifying bullet holes on his back to begin to writhe!
Terrifying and grotesque! An ordinary person would probably faint from fright.

It was as if a giant snake was coiling around his back, and whenever it reached a bloody hole, it would flick its tongue to expel the embedded yellow bullet.

"Clang~ Clang~"

Two bullets landed on the white cloth, and then more bullets fell as his back muscles writhed.

It quickly fell to the ground.

There were only bloody holes on his back, but no blood was flowing out.

Stand up, and slowly squeeze the bullet out of the bullet hole using your arms, legs, and hips.

Fortunately, Chen Zhanlu's photos were all taken with her back turned.
This is not finished!
What's being squeezed out now are bullets from ordinary Japanese soldiers; the three specially made bullets are still inside their bodies.

However, the bullets were not poisonous. This was not because the Japanese were kind, but because poisoning was ineffective. The bullets traveled too fast from the barrel, and the friction caused them to reach temperatures of several hundred degrees Celsius, which evaporated any poison.

The specially made firearms fired the first two shots; one pierced the lung lobe, and the other broke three ribs.

As he was leaving, Chen Zhan was shot again.

The shot hit the coccyx, cracking it and embedding it inside.

Fortunately, his talent [Iron Bones] was fully developed; otherwise, those three shots would have surely killed him.

The three shots went too deep into the body; two of them pierced the bone, so they couldn't be squeezed out with tendons and bones. Tools had to be used to "pull" them out.

The one that hit the coccyx was easy to deal with; Chen Zhan simply pulled it out with his hand.

Fortunately, he was prepared and got the tools from the pharmacy. It was the first time Chen Zhan had operated on himself, and his hands were very steady.

He picked up a knife, heated it over a candle flame, took a deep breath, and plunged it into the protrusion on his ribs!

When the knife tip pierced the flesh, it hurt a little, and he frowned slightly, but he didn't stop. He used tweezers to probe along the knife mark, grabbed the bullet, and pulled hard. With a "thud," the bloody bullet fell to the ground with a soft sound.

To follow the prescription exactly, to imitate without understanding.

Two large, dark red bullets fell to the ground.

It was two sizes larger than the other bullets on the ground.

Then he applied the hemostatic powder made from ground Chinese herbs to the wound, wrapped it with gauze, and after doing all that, Chen Zhan let out a breath.

After that, it depends on your self-healing talent!
(End of this chapter)