History Park: Starting with the Imjin War

The moment you step onto North Korea's property, the park gives you no further warning.

On the Yalu River, a long line of torches stretched from Liaodong all the way to North Korea.

After crossing the river, Mo Qin unloaded his white wax spear, the butt of which paused slightly on the frozen ground.

It's really tough, just as tough as Liaodong.

"Brother Qin."

It was Liu Gao.

"Is this North Korea?"

Mochin glanced at him.

"Otherwise what?"

Liu Gao looked up and around.

"I thought... it was different from Liaodong."

"What do you want to be different about?"

I can't quite explain it.

Liu Gao hugged his shield tightly and muttered to himself:

"I just feel that the ground here is cold, the wind is cold, and it's not much different from Liaodong."

Lin Jun walked over from the side.

"Once a person dies, it's pretty much the same everywhere."

Liu Gao was taken aback.

"What you said is unlucky."

In the distance, Zhou Hu was gathering the vanguard.

Ye Bushou and Tangma had already set off and explored along both sides of the riverbank.

Yan Qi approached Zhou Hu and began to report.

He first squatted down and used the arrow shaft to draw several lines on the snow.

"Ahead, on the south bank of the river, there are old cart tracks under the snow."

"It can transport supplies."

"There are footprints on the left side of the treeline, they're not new, and they're not Japanese soldiers. They look like Korean civilians fleeing into the mountains."

"The post road in the direction of Yizhou has been trodden by people; there are hoofprints, cart tracks, and several scattered footprints."

Then, after a moment's recollection, he added.

"There were defeated North Korean soldiers and refugees."

Feng the Scout was also nearby. He nodded and turned to Zhou Hu.

"He discovered the footprint layer himself."

"I didn't teach it."

Zhou Hu glanced at Yan Qi.

"Keep looking ahead."

The army continued its march, with Mo Qin carrying a gun, walking between Lin Jun and Liu Gao.

He twitched his fingers slightly and whispered:

"I can put this gun away now."

Lin Jun didn't stop walking, but her eyes turned to the side.

"Put it away?"

"Um."

Mochin kept his voice very low.

"With a single thought, the gun went. And so I entered the space."

As he said this, his palm tightened slightly.

As if it had heard something, the white wax spear vibrated slightly against his palm bone.

Mochin immediately suppressed the thought and did not continue.

"Let me say another key word: 'Gun,' and the gun will be in your hands!"

Lin Jun's eyes darkened.

"Is this a reward from a previous settlement? Have you already tried it?"

"no."

"Then don't try it."

Mo Qin looked up at her.

"Don't make a fuss, I'm just letting you know."

"Tell me you can."

Lin Jun lowered her voice and took a step closer.

"But remember, you're conspicuous enough now. Number one on the world leaderboard, the Qingliu faction and Japanese players are all watching you."

"If you keep showing off that gun in front of everyone, Li Rusong will chop you down first. So, stop being so cocky!"

Upon hearing this, Mo Qin fell silent for a moment.

"That makes sense."

Lin Jun looked at the wind and snow ahead.

"You can use it as a trump card."

"You can't treat it like a regular knife."

Mo Qin shrugged and responded softly.

"Thank you for your invaluable advice..."

Liu Gao, who was behind them, saw the two whispering to each other again, so he came over with his shield.

"What are you saying behind my back?"

Mochin remained unfazed.

"I said you handled the shield well."

Liu Gao immediately became alert.

"real?"

Lin Jundao:

"Fake."

Liu Gao stared wide-eyed, his face full of disbelief, and shouted.

"I'm not stupid, what are you talking about me about?"

In the distance, Yan Qi's voice drifted back from the wind and snow.

"You talk too much nonsense."

Liu Gao choked for a moment and remained silent for a long time.

The group traveled less than ten miles south, and the outline of North Korea gradually came into view.

Ahead was not a city, but a burned-down village.

The crumbling walls stood dark and bare in the snow. Some houses had no roofs left, only a few charred beams sticking out at an angle.

There were broken cart wheels, trampled bamboo baskets, and burlap sacks half-buried in snow on the village road.

A straw rope, knotted, hangs emptily in the wind from a dead tree by the roadside.

Strangely, there were no bodies.

Perhaps it was taken away.

Perhaps it was buried in snow.

But the smell of burning flesh hadn't completely dissipated, and it drifted over in gusts of cold wind.

Upon witnessing this scene, Liu Gao involuntarily shuddered.

"Was this burned by Japanese pirates?"

No one answered him.

Yan Qi glanced at the marks on the snow and whispered:

"It's old fire."

"And it's been burning for some time now."

Mo Qin walked along the village road, then suddenly stopped.

Something was peeking out from the snow beside the threshold of the half-collapsed house.

He approached and bent down to brush away the thin layer of snow.

It's a worn-out shoe.

It's for kids.

Half of the shoe upper was charred, while the other half still barely showed the original fabric color.

The shoe opening was crooked and twisted, with some dry grass stuffed inside, probably as a temporary pad to keep feet warm.

Mochin held the small shoe in his hand, feeling its weight.

It's so light, it doesn't feel like a thing.

He had also picked up such things in the ruins of the apocalypse.

A kettle, books, shoes, and wooden toys.

Mochin placed the worn-out shoe back beside the threshold, gently weighed it down with snow, then stood up and continued walking forward.

Looking at Mo Qin, Lin Jun remained silent from beginning to end.

Sensing the emotion, Liu Gao hugged the lion-head shield even tighter.

After leaving the village, Yan Qi slowly moved south along the treeline outside the village, taking a dozen or so steps.

In the wind and snow, the shadows of the trees swayed wildly.

He suddenly stopped.

There were footprints on the ground, and judging from the number, there were only three people.

The stride is too even.

The ground was so evenly distributed that it didn't resemble the footprints of fleeing civilians, routed soldiers, or the random trampling of Japanese cavalry.

Squatting down, Yan Qi pressed the edge of one of the footprints.

The snow hadn't completely melted.

It's newly printed.

It won't take long.

What's even stranger is that the toes were pointing south, but the shoe print was biased towards the north.

It means that when a person walks south, they keep looking back.

We're not in a hurry.

Instead, they were watching to see if anyone was chasing after them.

Yan Qi raised her eyes and looked into the deeper part of the forest.

There is a very shallow scratch on the tree trunk.

It wasn't a natural crack; someone lightly scratched it with the tip of a blade.

It should be a marker.

Yan Qi took the bow down and tightened the bowstring.

At the same time, he took the bone whistle off his waist and put it in his mouth.

I strained my ears and saw something about three steps to my left that snapped a twig.

It can't be a beast.

The beast wouldn't have broken it so easily.

The next moment, a figure pressed up from behind.

They moved very fast and their footsteps were extremely light.

By the time Yan Qi turned to the side, the short blade in the opponent's hand was already behind his shoulder.

Yan Qi bent over, turned his hand, and rammed his arm backward from under his armpit.

It perfectly blocked the wrist holding the knife.

In his other hand, he already had a short arrow tucked in his nock.

The arrowhead was sent upwards.

puff.

The short arrow pierced the man's forearm.

Blood splattered on the snow, burning a deep red spot.

The newcomer grunted and immediately retreated.

Without giving chase, Yan Qi immediately retreated to an open area.

The steps were not hurried, but the bow kept pressing down on the opponent.

Then he blew the bone whistle.

The whistle was short and sharp, somewhat like a night bird startled.

As the whistle blew out, Yan Qi took three steps back.

Behind him was no longer the treeline, but a vast open field flattened by snow.

Mochin was in the rear of the group.

Upon hearing the whistle, he abruptly looked towards the treeline.

"Yan Qi is over there."

Lin Jun was a step ahead of Mo Qin and had already begun to move.

"I heard you."

Liu Gao, holding his shield, hurriedly asked.

"What's wrong?"

"There's someone there."

Mo Qin picked up the white wax gun.

"Walk."

Liu Gao was taken aback.

"Are we just going to leave like this?"

Lin Jun glanced at him.

"You can stay."

Liu Gao immediately grabbed his shield and followed.

"That won't work."

"I am now a swordsman and shield bearer."

The three rushed toward the treeline.

In just a few breaths, the three of them had already rushed more than twenty steps.

In the snow ahead, Yan Qi had retreated to an open area.

Not far in front of him, the man with the short knife was clutching his forearm, blood oozing from between his fingers.

But that's not all.

Two more people came out from the other side of the treeline.

A man wearing old armor, with a katana hanging at his waist, and half of his face covered with a black cloth.

The other one was short, holding a short gun, and had a thin rope and an iron hook hanging on his back.

The three people were positioned too far apart, leaving too much room for retreat.

Mo Qin could tell at a glance that these three people were not there to charge into battle.

They were scouts, there to gather intelligence and drag the tongues back.

Judging from their appearance and expression, they are most likely Japanese players, not Japanese soldiers.

The short-sword-wielding man gritted his teeth, staring at Yan Qi with murderous intent in his eyes.

The swordsman looked at Mo Qin first.

His gaze lingered on the white wax spear for a moment, then shifted to Mo Qin's face.

He suddenly spoke in broken Chinese:

"Central region... Nine-headed bird?"

Mo Qin narrowed his eyes.

"Your grandpa's right here!"

The swordsman seemed not to understand the Chinglish, but he could read the expression.

His brow furrowed, and a murderous intent flashed within him.

The pistolman laughed too.

"It's the number one on the list."

"A valuable asset. The Qingliu Society won't be cheap for him."

Liu Gao didn't understand the first two words, but he understood the last three, and his face immediately darkened.

"Why do these people talk like pork vendors at the market?"

Following beside him, Lin Jun smiled and said:

"Because they really want to cut the meat."

"That won't work."

Liu Gao held the lion-head shield horizontally forward.

"Brother Qin, I'll protect this piece of meat."

Mo Qin glanced at him sideways.

"That's disgusting to hear."

"Brother Qin, now is not the time to nitpick over words."

As they were speaking, the man with the short gun moved.

Unexpectedly, he did not rush towards Mo Qin, but instead targeted Liu Gao.

The short gun emerged from below at an angle, aimed at Liu Gao's knee line below the shield.

That shot was fired from a tricky angle.

If it were the old Liu Gao, he would most likely have raised his shield and blocked it head-on.

But this time, what appeared in his mind was Wang De's cold face.

A shield is not a door panel.

The shield isn't something you wait for someone to smash.

You have to grab the shield yourself.

Then, it's that word.

卸。

It's not a hard push.

It's about letting his force slide over.

Liu Gao gritted his teeth, and instead of retreating, he took half a step forward.

The shield is slightly tilted.

There is no hard top.

It was unloaded at an angle.

The short spear was stuck on the edge of the shield, and the tip slipped, grazing the side of the shield as it darted away.

Immediately afterwards, Liu Gao shoved his shoulder, and the edge of his shield struck the short-armed gunner's forearm.

The man's hand went numb, and his short gun immediately veered off course by half a foot.

"Now."

Lin Jun, who had been waiting for a long time, emerged from the side of the shield.

Her movements were so fast that the flash of the blade was almost invisible.

With a flick of his sleeve, the short knife emerged from his forearm and pierced directly into the short-armored gunner's wrist.

Blood gushed out immediately.

The pistolman screamed in pain as his entire hand went limp.

With a quick pull, Lin Jun retreated back to Liu Gao's shield side.

Liu Gao's eyes lit up.

"pretty!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than the swordsman pounced on him.

He did not save the pistolman.

Instead, taking advantage of the moment Lin Jun drew his sword and retracted it, he directly slashed at Liu Gao from the right.

He raised his katana high and slashed down at the shield.

This strike was powerful and fast.

Just as Liu Gao was about to push forward, Mo Qin pressed down from the side.

In that instant, Mo Qin's palm tightened.

The white wax spear clung to his palm bone, as if it had come alive.

An idea almost popped into my head.

Go get the gun.

With just a thought.

The spear disappeared.

The other party will definitely be stunned.

One more thought.

Guns are coming.

Within three steps, it's enough to kill.

I'm a fucking genius!

At that moment, Mochin's lips almost moved.

"gun……"

But he swallowed the last half-word back down his throat.

Lin Jun's words were like a bucket of cold water poured down on him.

Don't use it indiscriminately!

Liu Gao is here!

Yan Qi is here!

In the distance, there were also scouts and night watchmen.

It seems like now is not the time to use it.

Don't act like a fool who's just gotten a new gadget and wants to show it off everywhere.

On the other side, the katana had already slashed down.

Instead of retreating, Mo Qin advanced, thrusting his white wax spear diagonally, and began to seize the door.

The spear shaft slid along the side of the shield, and the spear tip pressed against the outside of the katana user's right wrist.

缠。

The katana user's wrist was touched, and his sword strike immediately deflected by half an inch.

Liu Gao thrust his lion-head shield forward, the copper ring on the edge of the shield striking the blade.

Sparks splattered all over the katana user's face.

The katana user gritted his teeth and changed his move, intending to draw his sword and slash horizontally.

Mochin had already changed his footing.

Half a step, just half a step.

Zhou Hu taught me.

The battlefield isn't a fighting ring; don't expect to make a spectacular shot.

Your strength is your strength.

His weakness is his weakness.

Use your strengths to get an open goal in his favor.

Mo Qin lowered his waist and hips, and the spear shaft slid down the back of the katana.

The katana user felt as if a snake was coiled around his blade, making it impossible to draw it smoothly or straighten it.

His eyes changed.

Mochin did not give him a second chance to change his tactics.

A follow-up push.

The spear tip emerged from the outside of the sword wrist, followed the half-line left by the shield, and pierced into the ribs of the katana-wielder.

puff.

The katana user's body stiffened, and the sword slid off the shield.

Mochin was not greedy.

After hitting the target, immediately withdraw the gun.

Blood gushed out from the gaps in the cotton armor and splattered on the snow.

As the katana-wielder knelt down, his eyes remained fixed on Mochin's gun.

He didn't understand.

There's really nothing fancy about it.

It was clearly just a matter of handing over a gun, wrapping his wrist around someone's arm, grabbing the door, and stabbing him in the ribs.

But he was just a step too slow.

Seeing that things were not going well, the pistolman clutched his wrist and tried to retreat.

Liu Gao was unwilling to give in.

He roared and slammed the lion-headed shield forward.

boom.

The pistolman was knocked backward and staggered.

Lin Jun moved swiftly, and the sharp blade had already been pulled out from his sleeve, slicing open his throat with a snap.

The pistolman's legs buckled, and he knelt in the snow.

Liu Gao pressed down again on the side of the shield.

They pinned the person to the ground.

"Don't move!"

Lin Jun glanced at it and said, "No need to press it anymore, it's already cold."

Mo Qin's eyes turned cold.

"Is it the Qingliu Society again?"

Lin Jun squatted down and took a look.

"They seem to be Japanese players."

On Yan Qi's side, the short-sword man, seeing that two of his comrades had died, turned and ran.

Instead of running in a straight line, he used the shadows of the trees to dart deeper into the woods.

Yan Qi's arrow was already nocked.

The arrow leaves the bowstring.

The short-sword-wielding man, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, lunged to the side.

The arrow grazed his shoulder blade, drawing a trail of blood.

It missed the vital point.

Rolling into the snow, the dagger-wielder used the shadows of the trees to flip over and continue his escape into the depths of the forest.

Mochin raised his gun to give chase.

Lin Jun grabbed him.

"Don't pursue a desperate enemy."

"He might be trying to lure you there; be careful of a trap!"

Upon hearing this, Mo Qin stopped in his tracks.

Deep within the treeline, there was indeed a very subtle movement.

It seems there was more than one person.