Shen Chong took off the clothes of his fallen comrade and put on the traitor skin. There is only one mission: to lurk. But as soon as they entered the puppet camp, they encountered the Japanese army massacre in Qingxiang. More than 20 people were detained by the river. The gun in his hand was shaking. Huang Weiren handed over a bayonet: "Adjutant Shen, it's time to show your loyalty." Shen Chong took the knife, turned around and stabbed the nearest Japanese in the throat. Blood splattered all over Huang Weiren's face. That night, there were forty-seven Japanese corpses deep in the jungle. No one knows who did it. Only Yamamoto Hiroki stared at the report and coldly uttered two words: "Shen Chong." When the guerrillas led by Captain Zhao pointed their guns at this "traitor," Shen Chong smiled. He wants everyone to know that some people can't kneel down even if their backbones are broken.
Gunshots were fired.
There are no signs.
What Lin Yuanshan heard was a muffled sound, like someone smashing a watermelon with a hammer.
At that moment, a thought flashed through his mind - there was something in the woods on both sides of the mountain road.
It's just intuition, I can't explain it.
Lao Zhou's body suddenly tilted to the left, and a dark red mist exploded in his chest.
The mist splashed onto Lin Yuanshan's face, it was hot and smelled of rust.
He was stunned for a moment.
Not afraid. \I didn't react.
One second the platoon leader was walking in front, and the next second people fell to the ground.
"Platoon leader!"
He rushed over, and as soon as his hand touched Lao Zhou's arm, he fell down.
Lao Zhou stared, opened his mouth, there was a gurgling sound in his throat, and blood foam flowed down his mouth.
