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

The hoe drew two arcs in the air.

The first blow landed squarely on the forehead of the Japanese soldier on the left, making a dull thud, like someone smashing a watermelon with a hammer.

The Japanese soldier didn't even utter a sound before falling backward onto the sandbags. His Type 38 rifle slipped from his hand, the butt hitting the stone slab with a crack.

The second hoe struck the Japanese soldier on the right almost simultaneously, hitting him squarely in the face. His nose and teeth shattered, and he fell backward onto the ground.

The helmet rolled a long way, bouncing several times on the bluestone slab.

He Dajun did not rush over immediately.

He crouched behind the broken wall, holding two grenades in his hands, and waited for a full half minute.

The two Japanese sentries remained motionless, their figures unchanged under the lamplight, and no other Japanese soldiers rushed out from the shadows.

Only then did he grab the grenade, bend over, and run quickly toward the gap.

The two Japanese sentries were indeed dead.

The one on the left has a hole in his head from being hit by a hoe, and the one on the right has his entire face collapsed.

He Dajun squatted down, dragged the two corpses behind the sandbags, and then began to strip one of the Japanese soldiers of his clothes.

He stopped when he was halfway through peeling it.

When my fingers touched the still-warm skin on that Japanese soldier's chest, a strong feeling of nausea rose up from my stomach.

He wasn't afraid of killing, but the thought of wearing the clothes of a dead man made him extremely uncomfortable.

He threw the half-undressed clothes on the ground, opened the system panel, browsed the supplies section, and found that he could exchange for Japanese military uniforms.

Two points for a set, cheaper than the gray cloth jacket he usually redeemed.

He Dajun redeemed a set without hesitation.

The clothes were made of coarse yellow-green cloth, and the buttons on the collar were standard Japanese style. The waistband of the military pants was a little wide, but he tightened the belt by two buckles and they fit perfectly.

He stuffed the clothes he had changed out of into the system, moved one of the Japanese soldiers' corpses to the corner and threw it outside the wall, and placed the other one where the Japanese soldier had just been standing guard, letting him sit down.

From a distance, you wouldn't be able to tell that this Japanese soldier is dead.

After disposing of the body, he straightened the collar of his military uniform, pulled his hat down to cover half of his face, and, carrying his Type 38 rifle, walked into the camp in the park.

The security at the camp was much looser than it had been the night before.

The Japanese soldiers didn't let their guard down; it's just that their defensive focus wasn't on this area.

Having just been attacked last night, most of the troops were redeployed to guard the ammunition depot and command post, leaving the patrol force significantly weakened.

He Dajun, carrying a gun, walked along the gravel path into the depths of the camp with the standard steps of a Japanese soldier.

His strides were neither too big nor too small, his leather boots clattering on the gravel, his rhythm exactly the same as the Japanese soldiers around him.

This was muscle memory he brought back from the battlefield at Lugou Bridge. He had watched the Japanese soldiers walk for so long that it was ingrained in his bones.

A patrol of soldiers approached, five Japanese soldiers lined up in a row.

The squad leader saw He Dajun and glanced at him.

He Dajun did not avoid it. Instead, he nodded to the other party and mumbled something.

The sergeant nodded and, without stopping, led the patrol past him.

He Dajun continued walking only after the patrol team had gone far away.

He walked past the supply warehouse and the canteen before arriving at the ammunition depot.

He Dajun's target this time was the ammunition depot, which was also the most heavily guarded place.

After all, ammunition depots and weapons depots are always the most important.

Without ammunition, guns are no better than fire sticks.

Sure enough, more than 200 meters away from the ammunition depot, someone shouted in the darkness, asking He Dajun for the password.

He Dajun had been prepared for this, and had simulated the plan in his mind dozens of times.

He didn't stop, but instead took a few more steps forward using the night fog, and with a sudden burst of strength in his right arm, he threw out three grenades tied together at the same time.

Three grenades drew an arc in the air and crashed into the ammunition depot.

He used all his strength to throw it more than 200 meters away. The grenade exploded in the darkness, and the flash briefly illuminated the sandbag fortifications surrounding the ammunition depot.

However, the bomb didn't hit the ammunition depot; it only blew off a corner of the sandbags, sending sand and shrapnel flying through the air.

Two Japanese soldiers hiding behind sandbags were knocked over by shrapnel, their screams sounding sharp and short in the aftershocks of the explosion.

He Dajun cursed inwardly in regret, but his feet had already started charging again.

He stopped trying to be precise and continued to throw grenades wildly as he charged forward, throwing seven or eight in one go.

Hand grenades exploded one after another around the ammunition depot, killing and wounding three or four Japanese soldiers. Shrapnel hit the brick wall of the ammunition depot, sending up sparks.

He Dajun rushed forward a few more steps, getting even closer to the ammunition depot.

The Japanese soldiers had already reacted, and in the darkness, they began firing their submachine guns. Bullets poured out from the fortifications around the ammunition depot, carving bullet holes in the ground in front of He Dajun.

The effective range of the submachine gun is about 300 meters, which is a great threat to He Dajun. The bullets grazed his arm and shoulder, and a few hit the gravel behind him, sending sparks flying.

The golden armor could only stop two bullets; the bullets were too dense, and he dared not gamble. But he didn't care and charged a few more steps.

Now we're finally close enough.

He Dajun threw out bundles of grenades.

The grenades tumbled through the air for the last few dozen meters before crashing into the roof and walls of the ammunition depot.

The first bundle smashed through the roof tiles and fell into the house; the second bundle hit the outer wall and bounced to the doorway; the third bundle hit the air vent of the ammunition depot.

Then boom!

The ammunition depot exploded.

This sound was louder than any sound He Dajun had ever heard in his life.

Then came a series of loud explosions, as if something deep inside the earth had exploded, turning over layer by layer.

The roof of the ammunition depot was completely blown off, and broken bricks and wooden beams were thrown dozens of meters into the air, spinning like pieces of paper in the firelight.

The wall split open in the middle, flames spewed out from the crack, their color changing from orange-red to incandescent white and then to blackish-red, and a huge mushroom cloud rose above the ammunition depot.

The entire Jingxi Park was illuminated as if it were daytime.

From a distance of 170 or 180 meters, He Dajun felt as if his ears had been hit hard with a hammer. After a loud bang, he could not hear anything and his vision went black.

Immediately afterwards, a huge shockwave pushed outward from the center of the explosion, like an invisible giant hand slamming into his chest, pushing him back several steps.

Gravel and shrapnel rained down on him and the ground around him.

The precious golden armor was still within its effective period. Shrapnel hit his body but was blocked by the invisible shell. However, the impact of the shockwave was unstoppable. He felt a tightness in his chest and almost couldn't catch his breath.

At that moment, He Dajun had a "ding" in his mind.

[First time destroying the Japanese ammunition depot, earning 100,000 points for destroying enemy defenses.]

[First destruction of a Japanese ammunition depot rewards the rare Golden Armor Protection skill.]