Courtyard Houses: Longevity Since the War of Resistance

Third stop: Liaoning Province

This was the last and toughest stop. The essence of the Kwantung Army was largely concentrated here. The arsenals in Fengtian operated day and night, the ports of Dalian were teeming with ships, the fortresses of Lushi were impregnable, and the transportation hubs of Jinshi were bustling with traffic.

I teleported to the outer sea of ​​Liaodong Bay and stood on the water. The seawater beneath my feet was deep blue, and the outline of land could be seen in the distance.

I will use the most direct, physical, and inexplicable blows.

"The Way of Resonance of the God of Martial Arts"

This skill integrates the ultimate principles of martial arts, including the ultimate control and transmission of power, and an understanding of the nature of material vibration. I can transmit power at a specific frequency, destroying only what I want to destroy, without affecting anything else.

Suspended on the sea surface, eyes closed. Mental power, like an invisible radar, guided by the principle of cause and effect, instantly locked onto the location, posture, and even the heartbeat frequency of every Japanese soldier in the entire Liaoning Province.

Then, I threw a punch.

Throw punches at thousands of pre-selected targets simultaneously.

Each punch was delivered from a distance. The power of each punch was transformed into a frequency that could create a fatal resonance with the internal water, organs, and bones of a specific target—a life form wearing a yellow military uniform and possessing typical physiological characteristics of Japanese soldiers.

In the guard barracks of the Fengtian Arsenal, the soldiers changing shifts suddenly froze, then collapsed to the ground as if their bones had been removed.

In the workshop, a Japanese sergeant supervising the work was pointing and cursing at the Chinese workers. The next second, his eyes bulged, and he collapsed, clutching his chest. In the office building, the officers who were studying the production plan stopped breathing at the same moment and slumped over their blueprints. The machines in the arsenal were still roaring, and the assembly lines were still running, but those figures in yellow military uniforms were nowhere to be seen.

At the port, sailors lined up on the decks of warships suddenly collapsed in rows, falling to the ground with dull thuds. Soldiers carrying supplies on the docks lost their grip, crates fell to the ground, and they too collapsed. In the port command headquarters, telephones rang incessantly, but no one answered; operators, staff officers, and commanders were all slumped over their posts. The moored ships swayed gently with the waves, their decks strewn with debris, and all was silent.

In the fortress of Lüshi, inside the gun emplacements, artillerymen lay lifeless at their gun positions. In the underground bunkers, resting soldiers lay on their beds, never to wake again. In the command post, the officers before the sand table remained frozen in their deliberations, like statues. The fortress's cannons still pointed towards the sea, the ammunition depots were full, but the men who operated them were gone.

At Jinshi Railway Station, in the dispatch room, the dispatcher, still holding the phone, slumped in his chair. On the platform, the officer directing the military train lay collapsed beside the tracks. Inside the carriages, the soldiers riding the train remained seated, heads bowed. The locomotive was still belching steam, the signal lights were still on, but this bustling military hub had suddenly fallen silent.

Not only in these major locations, but in every corner of Liaoning Province, in rural strongholds, military police stations in county towns, small stations along railway lines, outposts in the mountains and forests, and checkpoints on highways, any Japanese soldier wearing a yellow uniform and carrying a gun, no matter what he was doing—standing guard, eating, sleeping, or patrolling—would suffer cardiac arrest or brain nerve collapse and die instantly at the same moment.

There were no wounds, no bleeding, no explosions, and no destruction.

Only death, precise, efficient, and extremely quiet death.

It was as if an invisible hand had gently plucked the lifeblood from all the invaders on this land at the same time.

The entire process lasted less than three seconds.

I floated on the sea surface, slowly retracted my fist, and opened my eyes.

As the sun sets, it turns the sea into a golden hue.

Within the three northeastern provinces, all Japanese soldiers, from the commander of the Kwantung Army to the lowest-ranking private, who carried weapons and wore uniforms, were completely wiped out. The exact number cannot be precisely determined, but the 700,000 were essentially annihilated.

The planes are still at the airport, the tanks are still in the barracks, the cannons are still on the positions, the warships are still in the port, the trains are still on the tracks, the factories are still smoking, the warehouses are full of supplies, and the documents are locked in the cabinets.

The people who operated them, guarded them, and enjoyed them are gone.

In less than a day, Northeast China was liberated.

I took the glass bottle out of my pocket and held it up to my eyes.

"I'm done looking around," I said to the bottle, my voice slightly ethereal in the sea breeze. "The scenery of these three provinces is breathtaking, and the produce is plentiful. Now it's back to its rightful owner."

"Your people are all gone. As for you," I said calmly, looking at the points of light in the bottle that represented the sinful souls, "the journey is still long, and this is only the first stop."

I put the bottle back in my pocket, turned around, and faced southwest.

The matter in Northeast China was settled, leaving behind a complete industrial base and strategic location free from invaders.

But there are still some accounts that need to be settled elsewhere.

My figure flashed and disappeared on the sea. Only the setting sun remained, dyeing the sea and sky a warm golden hue.

The black soil can finally breathe.