Courtyard House: I only wiped out 30,000 Japanese pirates

Within thirty seconds, or at most fifty seconds, almost all the Japanese soldiers reacted and rushed towards the explosion point from all directions.

The Japanese soldiers from Lou's Steel Rolling Mill also ran out, then bent over and looked around.

Their tactical maneuvers were very standard: they would find cover as soon as possible, then observe, and then move.

When a squad of Japanese soldiers rushed to the alley entrance, they saw Lou Bancheng and He Dajun lying on the ground.

The two men were clearly stunned for a moment. One was the richest man in Beijing, and the other was a newly promoted lackey. The two of them were lying in the dust, in the same ugly posture.

The Japanese squad leader quickly made a decision: leave two men to guard Lou Bancheng, while the rest continued to rush towards the explosion site.

Soon after, more than a hundred Japanese soldiers surrounded the destroyed truck from three directions.

Some people were rummaging through the ruins, some were checking the walls, and some were prying open the doors of nearby residents' homes.

After searching for more than half an hour, nothing was found except for the truck that had been blown to pieces and three mangled corpses.

Sasaki stood at the factory gate, his face ashen.

The muscles in his chin were clenching and twitching, as if he were chewing something.

The Great Xia army attacked the Imperial Army at the gate of the steel mill, blew up the Imperial Army's trucks, killed three Imperial Army soldiers, and then disappeared without a trace.

If this matter is not handled properly, it will be more than just a matter of losing face for Sasaki.

He walked to the entrance of the alley, looked at Lou Bancheng and He Dajun who were standing there nervously, and narrowed his eyes.

Lou Bancheng was completely bewildered at this moment, truly bewildered.

His long robe was covered in a large patch of dust, and his hair was full of dirt, a stark contrast to his imposing presence at the Chamber of Commerce meeting.

Of course, he was secretly pleased; it was the Japanese soldiers' car that was bombed, not his. But he didn't dare show it on his face, keeping his mouth tightly shut and appearing very nervous.

"Mr. Lou," Sasaki's tone was slightly gentler than it had been at the factory, "did you see anyone suspicious just now?"

Lou Bancheng dusted himself off and shook his head: "No, I didn't see anything. I just suddenly heard an explosion, which startled me. Luckily, I reacted quickly."

Sasaki glanced at He Dajun.

He Dajun stood next to Lou Bancheng, bent over, with fear still lingering on his face.

He didn't speak up, and in short, he acted like a lackey.

Sasaki hesitated for a moment.

Lou Bancheng absolutely cannot be allowed to get into trouble. These wealthy tycoons must be used for our own purposes. The military's orders were clear as soon as Beijing was captured: win over the rich and suppress the ordinary people who resist.

The wealthy have property, so we must accept them. Ordinary people have nothing, but we can use bullets to make them obey. But if we were to kill Lou Bancheng, it would be difficult to explain to international public opinion; foreign newspapers would say that the Imperial Army was indiscriminately killing merchants in Beijing.

Moreover, once this news gets out, wealthy people in other places will also have to think twice: cooperating with the Japanese will also lead to death, and not cooperating will also lead to death, so they might as well fight back to the death.

I was so fierce to Lou Bancheng at the factory just now, it was like giving him a beating and then a sweet treat.

The sticks were used to beat the workers, while sweet dates were given to Lou Bancheng. This was to let him know that the Imperial Army could kill people at any time.

This fear and insecurity are most capable of undermining a person's will.

This is a classic case of making an example of someone to scare others.

"Take Mr. Lou home." Sasaki waved his hand, and someone brought over a jeep. "Send two people with him to ensure Mr. Lou's safety."

The jeep started up, and Lou Bancheng sat in the back seat with a complicated expression on his face.

He'd lived half his life, and this was the first time he'd ever ridden home in a Japanese soldier's car.

The ruins of the steel mill outside the car window grew smaller and smaller. Looking at the ruins, he recalled the scene of being publicly humiliated by Sasaki and He Dajun. He gritted his teeth and said nothing.

As Lou Bancheng's jeep drove out of the alley, Sasaki turned around and gave He Dajun a cold look.

He Dajun immediately lowered his head and bent over, his movements even more nimble than when he was in the factory.

His bow was perfectly measured, conveying great respect. "Your Excellency," he lowered his voice and began to reveal, "I suspect there's a tunnel nearby where the Imperial Army was attacked."

"Oh?" Sasaki's eyebrows twitched, and a hint of genuine interest finally appeared in his tone. "What do you mean?"

He Dajun took a small step forward and pointed to the old houses on both sides of the alley: "Sir, these old houses in Beijing have been built for decades or even centuries. In the past, when there were frequent wars, wealthy families built cellars and secret passages in their homes."

He pointed to the base of the wall next to the explosion site: "The Imperial Army surrounded that spot on three sides but couldn't find anyone. The doors of the nearby houses hadn't been opened; people couldn't just disappear into thin air. Unless, they had a tunnel."

Sasaki listened without speaking immediately.

Of course he knew that there were tunnels in Beijing. Japanese agents had been infiltrating Beijing for many years and knew more about the city's hidden tunnels than ordinary people who had lived there for decades.

The news He Dajun mentioned was of no value to him, but it didn't dampen his enthusiasm.

He cared more about He Dajun's attitude.

This man from Great Xia, who had just been promoted to head of security, immediately offered intelligence upon encountering the attack.

Although this intelligence wasn't much to them, He Dajun's loyalty was commendable. While this man was somewhat suspicious, he could be used.

It needs to be observed and used simultaneously.

Yes, Sasaki put He Dajun in charge of the workers' security because he found He Dajun suspicious, and that's why he did it on purpose.

However, Sasaki thought he was clever and was on the third floor, while He Dajun was on the ninth floor.

He naturally knew that the Japanese soldiers understood the situation in Beijing better than he did.

Telling Sasaki this seemingly confidential but ultimately useless information is like selling garbage as gold.

Both of them thought they had gotten the better deal.

"Very good." Sasaki nodded and said, "You're right. He Dajun, you're very loyal, and I'm very satisfied."

He Dajun immediately smiled obsequiously, his face beaming and his eyes narrowing into slits: "Thank you for the compliment, Sir! It is my honor to serve the Imperial Army!"

Sasaki stopped looking at him.

He turned around and whispered a few words in Japanese to the guard beside him.

Soon, the Japanese soldiers began a more thorough search of the houses near the explosion site. The sounds of banging on doors and the clatter of boots echoed through the alleyways.

Sasaki stood there and told He Dajun to go back to the steel rolling mill, which was his workplace.

Of course, the Japanese investigated for a long time but found nothing.

It would be a miracle if there were any gains.

It's impossible for every household in Beijing to have a tunnel; only high-ranking officials and wealthy merchants had them.

Meanwhile, the search for the explosion site did not affect the workers inside the steel rolling mill.

The workers are still moving bricks, shoveling stones, and clearing away the rubble, their movements neither too fast nor too slow.

The worker who was killed by Sasaki's gun is still at the factory gate; his body hasn't been collected yet, and the blood has already dried.

This is the best warning you can give.

When He Dajun walked back to the factory area, the smile on his face hadn't faded yet.

He straightened his back a little, took bigger steps than when he went out, and walked in with his head held high and chest out.

He stood in front of the ruins where the workers were working and cleared his throat.

"Listen up! There were rioters attacking the Imperial Army outside, but they've been driven back! Go back to what you were doing!"

His voice echoed in the factory where half the ceiling had collapsed, with a touch of affected arrogance, "I, He Dajun, am in charge here now. You all better work hard, and I'll put in a good word for you with the Imperial Army. Anyone who doesn't work hard..."

He paused, then kicked a piece of broken brick at his feet with his toe. "You all saw what happened."

The workers kept their heads down, and no one responded.

Of course, it wasn't just ordinary resentment.

Actually, He Dajun was also unhappy. He didn't want to be a traitor, even if he had to pretend to be one. But Sasaki discovered something was amiss, so he had no choice but to try and establish a connection with Old Zhao.

For some reason, the more he utters traitorous words, the more resentment he harbors inside, and the more he wants to vent it.

He decided to kill a few dozen more Japanese soldiers tonight to relieve the frustration in his heart.

Damn, this is unbearable!