On the eve of the fall of Liaodong, he led his troops in a remonstrance against the young marshal.

The battle on the city walls is still raging.

The Japanese attack did not stop with the arrival of the planes; on the contrary, it became even more frenzied.

Hirata Yukihiro and Suzuki Kenji both saw the ten planes land, but they judged that these were reinforcements from the Northeast Army. They had to take the city wall before the reinforcements could deploy, otherwise the siege would be much more difficult.

The Japanese launched a second attack almost without pause.

The siege ladders were pushed down again and again, and then put back up again and again.

The Japanese soldiers swarmed toward the city wall like ants, their bayonets gleaming coldly in the morning light.

The defenders on the city wall were exhausted.

Zhao Zhenfan stared intently at the yellow tide outside the city, the bayonet in his hand already chipped, each thrust carrying a fierce, toothless intent.

Suddenly, he heard a series of strong footsteps behind him.

He turned his head and saw a man dressed in a dark blue Zhongshan suit walking up the city wall, followed by a dozen soldiers carrying strange rifles.

He was stunned for a moment, then suddenly recognized him—it was Second Master!

"Second Master!" Zhao Zhenfan cried out in disbelief.

Zhang Xueming nodded to him, his gaze sweeping over the soldiers on the city wall whose faces were covered in blood, then he bent down and picked up a Liao 13 rifle left behind by a fallen soldier.

He pulled back the bolt, checked that there were three bullets left in the magazine, then walked behind a crenellation and placed the barrel in the crack between the bricks.

He took a deep breath, brought his right eye to the back of the sight, and aimed the sight at a Japanese sergeant below the city wall who was directing his soldiers to set up ladders.

It was a young face, perhaps not even twenty-five years old, with two thick mustaches, his mouth opening and closing as he shouted something, his military knife waving towards the city wall.

Without hesitation, Zhang Xueming pulled the trigger.

"Bang!"

The gunshots were not particularly loud on the noisy battlefield, but a burst of blood erupted right between the eyebrows of the Japanese sergeant.

He collapsed to the ground as if his bones had been removed, the military knife slipping from his loosened fingers and the tip digging into the soil.

[Ding! One Japanese squad leader has been killed. Points +5.]

A cold, mechanical voice echoed in my mind.

Without pausing, Zhang Xueming slightly adjusted the muzzle of his gun and aimed it at a Japanese soldier who was setting up a ladder.

"Bang!"

The Japanese soldier's neck was pierced, and blood sprayed all over the faces of the people next to him.

He covered the bullet hole in his neck with both hands, blood gushing from between his fingers, and he fell off the ladder, knocking down two of his companions who were climbing up.

[Ding! One Japanese private has been killed. Points +3.]

[Ding! One Japanese private first class killed. Points +3.]

Zhang Xueming's marksmanship was superb, instantly stunning Liu Duoquan and Zhao Zhenfan. The squad leader who was just below the city wall was at least 300 meters away.

They were both stunned when Second Master shot them in the head.

"bullet!"

Zhang Xueming shouted, and Liu Duoquan suddenly realized what was happening and personally loaded the bullets for Zhang Xueming.

"Bang bang bang!"

Gunshots rang out one after another.

One shot, one kill; another shot, and another kill.

Zhang Xueming's marksmanship was terrifyingly accurate; every bullet hit the Japanese soldier's vital points—between the eyebrows, throat, and heart.

The recoil of the Liaoning 13 rifle slammed into his shoulder socket, but he didn't budge. His movements of pulling the bolt, ejecting the spent cartridge, and chambering a new round were so fluid and fast that they were almost invisible.

Points were pounding wildly in my mind.

An ordinary Japanese soldier gets three points, a sergeant and a squad leader get five points, and a company commander gets ten points.

In just a few minutes, his points had accumulated to more than fifty.

The soldiers guarding the city wall were in an uproar.

"Second Master! Second Master has come up in person!"

Someone shouted at the top of their lungs, their voice filled with unbelievable ecstasy.

The soldiers, who were already exhausted, were given a shot of adrenaline, and their morale soared.

Liu Duoquan stood behind Zhang Xueming, watching this second master reaping the lives of Japanese soldiers one by one with a single shot, his heart churning with turmoil.

He remembered very clearly what kind of person Zhang Xueming used to be.

He was neither good at academics nor at martial arts, was disliked by the old marshal, and suppressed by the young marshal. He spent several years at the Northeast Military Academy, but he couldn't even hold a gun steadily.

But now, the man standing on the city wall has eyes that are as cold as a blade, and a hand that holds a gun that is as steady as a rock.

Why does Second Master seem like a completely different person after just a few days?

The Japanese command post also noticed the changes on the city wall.

A Japanese company commander who was holding binoculars put them down, his expression changing drastically.

He saw a group of soldiers dressed in strange, colorful clothes behind the crenellations of the city wall, and their guns...

"The Chinese reinforcements have arrived!"

He shouted behind him, "There's a sharpshooter behind that crenellation over there! He's already killed more than a dozen of our men! Suppress! Suppress!"

"Machine guns! Grenade launchers! Fire at that rampart!"

A lieutenant drew his sword and pointed it at Zhang Xueming's location.

The Japanese machine gunner immediately turned his gun around, and the Type 96 machine gun spewed out a tongue of fire half a foot long, with bullets raining down on the rampart where Zhang Xueming was.

The bullet struck the crack between the bricks at the top of the wall, sending brick fragments flying and leaving a bloody gash on Zhang Xueming's cheek.

He didn't hide.

He shifted to a different firing position and continued to pull the trigger.

Another bullet pierced the chest of a Japanese squad leader.

"call out!"

A grenade from a grenade launcher came flying with a sharp whistle and struck the city wall less than five meters to Zhang Xueming's right. The explosion sent flames shooting into the sky and shrapnel flying everywhere.

Two soldiers who were close by were thrown to the ground by the shockwave. One of them had half of his ear shattered by shrapnel, and the other had his lower leg blown off.

Zhang Xueming was pushed back a step by the blast wave, his ears ringing, but he immediately pressed against the rampart and fired a shot in the direction of the grenadier.

The bullet pierced through the smoke and struck the grenadier in the face. The Japanese soldier screamed and fell backward.

[Ding! One Japanese grenadier killed. Points +3.]

But the Japanese suppressive fire did not stop.

A Type 96 machine gun was firing intently at his barricade, the bullets sweeping over him like a deluge, making it impossible for him to peek out.

Another grenade launcher team was also aiming at him, grenades raining down one after another, explosions erupting around him.

Outside the city wall, taking advantage of the lull in their firepower, the Japanese had already set up six siege ladders. A group of Japanese soldiers were climbing up with bayonets in their mouths, and the ones in front were almost touching the crenellations.

"Second Master! Danger!" Liu Duoquan rushed over to pull Zhang Xueming away.

Just then, a series of rapid footsteps suddenly came from the steps inside the city wall.

Yuan Lang led ninety soldiers and escorted a group of people up the city wall.

The group of people was a large, dark mass, including men and women, young and old, all dressed in the clothing of Japanese expatriates.

The men were dressed in suits or kimonos, the women in furisode or Western-style dresses, and the children huddled behind the adults, their faces filled with fear and confusion.

Several people dressed in the clothes of ordinary people from Northeast China had their hands tied behind their backs, their faces bruised and battered; they were clearly traitors dragged out of their own ranks.

At the head of the group was the son of a high-ranking Japanese official, who was extremely arrogant. Yuan Lang grabbed him by the collar and dragged him forward, shouting:

"You bastards! How dare you treat me like this! I'll tear you to pieces!"

"Baka! Let me go, or I'll get my dad to kill you all!! Kill you all!"

Yuan Lang kicked him in the back of the knee, and he fell to his knees on the city wall with a thud. His glasses flew off and crashed onto the brick ground, the lenses shattering into pieces.

"Sir! All 1,134 Japanese expatriates and traitors have been brought here!"

The battlefield fell silent for a moment.