History Park: Starting with the Imjin War

In the afternoon, the army marched south for several dozen miles.

The village that burned during the day is now far behind us.

But the sense of desolation on the road had not diminished in the slightest.

As we passed through several more abandoned villages, the desolate scenes were all the same.

Half of the village wall collapsed, and a burnt door panel was stuck in the snow, revealing charred wood stumps.

When the Japanese pirates left, they threw dead livestock into the well, carrying out the "Three Alls" policy (kill all, burn all, loot all).

Seeing this, Mo Qin thought to himself: Destroying the Ming army's logistical base, creating epidemics and psychological deterrence, and carrying out retaliatory plunder and destruction—no wonder the Japanese devils are capable of such things.

Along the way, the Ming army also gathered some surviving Korean civilians.

The people all looked pale and sickly, but the military rations could not be touched.

The supply wagons of the rear guard haven't caught up yet, and the dry rations carried by the vanguard are now extremely scarce.

The crowd couldn't bear it any longer, so they finally came up with a solution.

The small amount of loose grain they found in the abandoned village, along with a few grain sacks they took from the Japanese soldiers, were distributed.

The portion was small, but it was better than nothing.

When the North Korean people received the gifts, many made a gesture as if they wanted to kneel.

Li Rusong saw this while riding a horse, and only said a few words:

"Help him up."

"The person is almost dead, what's the point of kneeling?"

At the commander's command, Han Shouyi led his men to help the kneeling old men to their feet.

The old man couldn't understand what the Ming soldiers were saying; he just held onto the little bit of food, tears streaming down his face, which was covered in frostbite.

Mo Qin, standing ten steps away, gave Li Rusong a deep look.

At the hour of You (5 p.m. to 7 p.m.), the army finally set up camp outside a dilapidated post station.

We are not far from Pyongyang.

But the smoke, footprints, and traces of the Japanese soldiers were becoming increasingly dense.

Setting up camp is quick, but marching is anything but comfortable.

Once the camp was set up, Zhou Hu went to the central command.

He carried two items: a Nanman bamboo tube and a waist token.

Mo Qin and Lin Jun followed along, but did not go inside; they waited outside the tent.

A short while later, Han Shouyi's voice came from inside.

"Is the waist tag real?"

An experienced official replied:

"Replying to Commander Li, the cards are real."

"It's an old-style waist tag from Liaoyang Guard."

"The worn edges and corners are also correct; it doesn't look like it was newly made."

Then, Li Rusong's voice came:

"The cards are real, but the people may not be."

"Pass it on."

"Starting tonight, all battalion waist badges will be re-examined."

"Order that those patrolling the night, especially those near the central army, be checked by two people."

"If the cards, the person, and the business register don't match, tie them up first, then investigate."

Han Shouyi clasped his hands in a fist salute.

"yes!"

Lin Jun stood to the side and whispered:

"They've run out of new tricks."

"Infiltration, assassination, sabotage, the same old three methods."

Mochin exhaled a puff of white breath.

"Luckily, I didn't chase them into the woods during the day. I'm like Tang Sanzang's flesh now, everyone wants a bite."

Lin Jun glanced at him.

"Tang Sanzang's skin isn't as thick as yours."

"Thickness doesn't matter, being handsome is what matters."

"You're not as handsome as him."

"How do you know? Call him over, let's have a contest face to face."

"..."

When the food was distributed in the evening, each person received half a dry biscuit, a small pinch of salted vegetables, and half a bowl of hot water.

There was almost no rice flavor in the hot water.

Liu Gao looked at the half-eaten pancake, his mouth slightly open, but he closed it again.

Wang De, with his sharp eyes, had already spotted it.

"Not enough?"

Liu Gao shook his head vigorously, like a rattle-drum.

"I don't mind."

"You'd better not mind."

He raised his hand and pointed north.

"The dry rations I brought from Yizhou are enough for three days."

"Three days later, the grain wagons from the rear convoy still haven't arrived, so we'll have to cut the supply by half again."

He glanced around coldly.

"Hungry? Who isn't hungry?"

"I'm hungry too."

"Grain doesn't fall from the sky."

"The North Koreans themselves had nothing to eat, so they dismantled door panels to use as sleds and used oxen to haul coarse rice over."

"The food you're holding was delivered here with great difficulty because someone lost a finger due to frostbite."

No one dared to utter a sound.

Liu Gao quickly lowered his head, started munching on the half-eaten pancake, and carefully picked up the crumbs as well, stuffing them into his mouth.

Lin Jun sat next to her; she hadn't drunk any water all day, and her lips were a little chapped.

The action of grabbing the dry rations was also a beat slower than usual.

After glancing at her, Mo Qin held his half-eaten pancake in his hand.

He intended to break off a corner and hand it over.

The moment the finger moved, Lin Jun looked over.

"You eat it yourself."

Mochin stopped moving.

"I haven't given it to you yet."

"But you want to give it."

"I'm not hungry, I'm big! I can carry it."

"Who can't shoulder this burden?"

Lin Jun's voice was very soft.

"You need to eat even more than we do."

Mochin remained silent for a moment.

Lin Jun took a small bite out of his half-eaten pancake.

I chewed it more than a dozen times before slowly swallowing it, a typical way of eating for weight loss.

Eat if you can.

"Sleep if you can."

"Don't risk your life to pretend to be a good person."

Mo Qin sighed and stuffed the pancake into his mouth.

"You're good at managing people, but not at praising them."

"You need to be disciplined."

"..."

Liu Gao whispered from the side:

"Brother Qin, I think Lin Jun is right."

"Hmm?" Mo Qin looked at him.

Liu Gao immediately lowered his head, pretending not to see, and continued eating his pancake.

Late at night, Mochin sat beside the smoldering embers.

Deep within his chest and abdomen, a pale golden core of energy remained dormant.

The aura of the Cosmic General, however, felt like a warm glow, descending upon the few people around him.

Liu Gao started snoring, and Lin Jun leaned against the withered tree with his eyes closed.

When Yan Qi returned from the Night Watchmen's place, he saw the two of them asleep, so he deliberately walked very quietly.

He glanced at Mo Qin, then sat down a short distance away and began to clean the arrows.

The web between the thumb and index finger of his right hand was still cracked.

The cloth strips were wrapped around and around, and the bleeding had stopped.

But if you really draw the bow fully, it will definitely still hurt.

Mo Qin suddenly said:

"You were amazing today! That arrow that hit the barrel was fucking accurate."

Yan Qi kept moving without even raising her head.

"The wind was light then, making it easy to aim."

"Oh, don't be modest."

"Not modest."

Yan Qi put an arrow back into the quiver.

"I'm naturally accurate."

After saying that, he lowered his head, bit down hard on the strip of cloth, and tightened the knot between his thumb and forefinger again.

Liu Gao, half-asleep, muttered something under his breath:

"Stinky fart."

He turned over and went back to sleep.

At the same time.

A small courtyard house in Pyongyang.

In the dead of winter, remnants of snow still lingered at the eaves and base of the walls.

Two lanterns hung at the entrance of the courtyard, their light dim and dim, their illumination restrained and understated, lighting only a few feet in front of the gate.

Several guards dressed in Japanese-style short armor stood under the lamp.

Judging from their attire, they don't seem to be regular foot soldiers.

The nail plates were very thin, and the standing posture was also casual.

His eyes darted around while he patrolled, much like the soft-spoken men who specialize in picking up women on the streets of Tokyo.

There were no flags hanging at the gate, nor were there any official Japanese military insignia.

There was only a narrow wooden sign nailed to the door frame.

There are three small Japanese characters written on it in charcoal.

The assault team.

The courtyard was small, and firelight shone from the main house.

The room was covered with coarse straw mats, and a sketch of the area around Pyongyang hung on the wall.

The lines in the picture are quite abstract, a veritable mudslide in the art world.

Several wooden crates were scattered in the corner, revealing dried food, cloth, and a few Japanese swords.

On the shelf against the wall, there was a row of small ceramic jars sealed with wax.

Ginji Kito was sitting cross-legged in the main seat.

On the low table in front of him lay half a discarded business plan.

The corners of the paper looked like they had been crumpled and then carefully smoothed out.

A bowl of cold tea sat beside it.

He was still holding a casino chip in his right hand, constantly turning it between his fingers.

He's waiting for two things.

One thing is that the people sent out during the day should be back by now.

Another, bigger matter: Qingliu Club has arranged to meet tonight.

Before arriving in the Ming Dynasty, Gui Tou had even studied the history of the Qing Dynasty in preparation for this collaboration.

The other party is a legitimate imperial prince.

Yinzhen's surname is Aisin Gioro.

Compared to the other party's prestige, he was just a fisherman from Hokkaido.

Before becoming a player, no one ever paid him any attention. Thinking about the injustice of life, he couldn't help but snort.

The chips in their hands multiplied even faster.

Footsteps sounded outside the courtyard.

The Japanese soldier at the door announced:

"The reconnaissance team is back."

Ginji Kito raised his hand.

The local Japanese soldiers inside the house immediately withdrew.

The paper door closed.

Only a few players from the Advance Team remained inside.

Immediately afterwards, the person outside was brought in.

A person wearing a black haori during the day kneels outside the threshold.

Fortunately, the temperature was minus twenty degrees Celsius, and half of the blood from the long gash on his left side had frozen.

"You're back?"

His subordinates were seriously injured, but Kito Ginji didn't even bother to raise his eyes.

"Yes."

The player in black crouched down.

He briefly recounted what had happened during the day.

After listening, Ginji Kito finally looked at him properly.

"He only used a spear?"

The player in black had his forehead pressed against the floor.

"Yes, there are no other means."

The room fell silent for a moment.

Kito Ginji placed the chips on the low table.

"This is troublesome!"

The player in black didn't dare to reply.

Ginji Kito stood up, walked up to him, and looked down at him.

"Where's your Nanban-style bamboo flute?"

The player in black shuddered.

"It was... it was captured by the Ming army."

"Paid?"

Kito Ginji didn't look at him again, but glanced at the pottery jars on the shelf.

"Go down."

When the player in black left, his face was deathly pale with fright.

Ghost Head doesn't like killing people; he prefers to torture them.

But today he might be in a good mood, or he might be burdened with worries.

Surprisingly, no punishment was imposed.

Not long after, footsteps could be heard outside the courtyard again.

Neat, clean and tidy.

They are members of the Qingliu Society.

After listening for a while, Kito Ginji quickly straightened his collar.

When Yinzhen walked in, he was accompanied by only one attendant.

He wore a dark cloak, with a thin layer of snow on his shoulders, and his katana hung at his waist.

The attendant held a small ebony box in both hands.

The edges were covered with dark copper, and two thin iron hoops were wrapped around the outside. The seams of the box were also covered with a layer of black wax.

As he got closer, Ginji Kito could vaguely smell a scent.

If I had to describe it, the smell was like damp grass growing in a garbage can.

Ginji Kito's gaze lingered on the box for a moment.

Yinzhen, who was opposite them, had already looked over.

Ginji Kito immediately looked away and smiled.

"Your Highness."

Yinti nodded slightly.

"Captain Kito."

"Please sit down."

Ginji Kito pointed to the felt mat opposite him.

As soon as he finished pointing, he realized that his action seemed a bit too obsequious, so he forcibly withdrew it.

When Yinzhen sat down, his attendants did not sit down.

He simply placed the box beside Yinzhen and then retreated to the door.

"Your men were killed during the day?"

Yinzhen got straight to the point.

"One was broken."

Oni-tou Ginji said:

"Iron Ruler Hand was killed by the Nine-Headed Bird."

"The Nanban tubes have also been confiscated."

"The other one has returned, though."

Yinzhen said calmly:

"Back in Liaodong, the joint squad clashed with him three times."

"Once at the weapons depot, once at the stables, and once at the cliff pass."

He survived all three attempts.

"Those around him, none of them died either."

Kito Ginji was listening attentively. Of course he knew about these three times, and besides, his side had also sent people during the incident at the cliff entrance.

As a result, the entire seven-man squad was wiped out.

Thinking about this, he suddenly realized that this prince wasn't so great after all...

But what came out of his mouth was:

"That prince must understand him very well."

Yinzhen ignored his flattery.

"Those men included shield bearers, short swordsmen, and archers."

"If you encounter your men now, it's like sending them to their deaths."

Kito Ginji remained silent, his fingers lightly tapping twice on his knee.

Yinzhen was telling the truth.

Our own advance team is indeed no match for the elite of the Qingliu Society.

"So, what does Your Highness mean?"

he asks.

"It's not worth it to kill him outright."

Yinti said.

Ginji Kito narrowed his eyes.

"Defeat the Ming army first! Don't rush to kill Mo Qin; there will be plenty of opportunities later. The bounty I put on him is still up!"

Upon hearing the reward, Gui Tou took the chips out of his pocket and began to twirl them between his fingers.

"Sugata, we can wear them down!"

Yinzhen looked at him.

"You have a plan?"

At this point, Gui Tou's tone became much stronger than before.

"Take Mo Qin for example. He claims to be upright in his conduct. So let's play to his preferences and make him think that we can save people."

He flipped the chips over to the back of his fingers and then pressed them back into his palm.

"Pretend that civilians were killed, and find a way to get them away from the army."

Yinti did not speak.

Ginji Kito continued:

"Make them run around a few more times, and they'll naturally get tired."

"Wait until they lower their guard."

"Give them a good beating."

After listening, Yinzhen glanced at him, his face full of disapproval.

"Can your people do it?"

Oni-tou Ginjido.

"Your Highness can rest assured that you will cooperate with us."

That's a bit of an exaggeration.

The advance team was not a regular army and had a very low status.

Even during operational meetings, Konishi Yukinaga would only make him stand.

These people definitely won't be the ones leading the charge.

But when it comes to tampering with the post road, setting up ambushes at the edge of the forest, and forging traces in the snow...

There are indeed few things that the Japanese army could do better than them.

Yinzhen neither praised him nor refuted him.

"Let's start tonight. We'll make sure they don't get a single full night's sleep."

Nodding, Kito Ginji flipped the chips between his fingers again.

"No problem, Your Highness."

Upon hearing this, Yinzhen paused slightly in his tea-serving hand.

I despise these Japanese people from the bottom of my heart, but since the two countries are in a cooperative phase, I still have to give them face.

At this point, Gui Tou raised a question that he was more concerned about.

"Your Highness, may I ask one more question? Has the main force arrived yet?"

Yinzhen raised his eyes.

"You don't need to worry about that, we're already inside the city."

Ginji Kito nodded and didn't ask any further questions.

The collaboration between Kikukakusha and Seiryukai was driven by ulterior motives on both sides.

Without the cooperation of Qingliu, our side would never dare to confront the Ming army head-on in this world.

Within the park, only a very few high-level players know that the original world of the Qingliu Society is a vast Qing Dynasty empire.

For now, they'll use Qingliu's people to hold off Pyongyang's defenses until headquarters sends more people over...

Thinking of this, he looked again at the ebony box beside Yinzhen.

Noticing the other person's gaze, Yinzhen leaned back slightly and gently placed his hand on the lid of the box.

The control the other party displayed made Kito Ginji extremely uncomfortable.

What's inside the box?

poison?

Summoning medium?

Or is it a life-saving tool?

"About the grain search team."

During their eye contact, Yinzhen suddenly spoke.

Tell your people to behave themselves.

"Cutting off a nose as a reward is just building up the enemy's anger."

"They were already angry."

"Now you're adding fuel to the fire."

Yinzhen's words were like casting pearls before swine.

The grain-gathering team was a matter for the regular Japanese army, and Kito's status was not as high as he had previously boasted.

But he couldn't say to Yinzhen, "I can't control this."

So he nodded and said seriously:

"I will pass on the message."

Sensing the ghost's confidence, Yinzhen smiled gently.

He then stood up and casually brushed the snow off his shoulders.

An unintentional action once again stirred up a strange sense of inferiority in Gui Tou.

Gui Tou had previously straightened his collar.

She combed her hair three more times, but none of them were as elegant and casual as Yinzhen's, exuding an air of nobility.

Seeing that his master was about to leave, the attendant stepped forward and picked up the ebony box again.

The strange smell wafted again as the box moved.

Ginji Kito lowered his eyes and didn't look again.

After the other party left the courtyard, Gui Tou stood in front of the low table for a long time.

He then walked to the shelf, picked up a ceramic jar, and tossed it in his hand.

The jar contained a sleeping potion powder.

I've used this product many times, and it's always been very effective.

No matter how strong the opponent is, as long as they can't catch their breath, it's just a matter of one strike.

I knocked on the edge of the table, and someone came in from outside.

He spoke for a while, and at the end, he gave one last instruction:

"The footprints lead into the woods."

"To make them believe that there are still people alive inside."

The subordinate responded in a low voice.

Once he was the only one left in the house, Ghost Head stood in front of the map and chuckled coldly.

Yinzhen clearly didn't trust him, and he didn't trust Yinzhen either.

Especially that box; his intuition told him something was off.

It doesn't matter anymore. They're both old foxes; they'll definitely turn on each other at the end of the mission.

Then we'll see who sends the other into the fire first!