Rise From Eight Hundred Chapter 166

Chapter 166 The Continuing Silence

The south bank of Suzhou River is already crowded with people.

The crowd gathered was at least twice as large as the previous few days.

In fact, yesterday's incident in which people in the concession risked their lives by jumping into the river to retrieve the remains of soldiers who died in the war, and eventually nearly a hundred people were killed by Japanese gunfire, shocked the entire concession.

It turns out that not only the soldiers who receive military pay are not afraid of death, but also the people around them are not afraid of death. This is absolutely subversive for the vast majority of ordinary people who are anxious about what they can eat tomorrow.

Last night, there was an endless stream of Chinese people who went to the makeshift mourning hall in the theater to express their condolences. Everyone wanted to see if it was true.

A coffin covered with a dark blue military uniform with several holes in it and another coffin were at the front, followed by densely packed rows of dark coffins. The people keeping watch over them were all well-known big shots in the Songhu area, and there was even a coffin. Army Major General.

That makes them disbelief.

A middle-aged man in a beige suit standing on the street corner belongs to this group of people. As a Chinese employee of the Imperial Bank in the concession, although the war broke out, he had a house in the concession. With a salary, he is not worried about his family's livelihood, and he is far less worried about the war breaking out around him than the refugees.

But when he heard the news and rushed to the mourning hall, he was deeply shocked by the rows of dark and heavy coffins and the five-year-old child wearing a white mourning hat with no tears in his eyes.

What is 　　? For a husband and father to abandon his wife and children and die on his own initiative? Is that his job? Not really.

The choice of ordinary people like him regarding this war forced him to re-examine the war because he could not find the answer.

He decided to stay here and see with his own eyes what made people like him make such irrational choices.

Perhaps the tens of thousands of extra Chinese people have the same doubts as him.

Those who stayed here for most of the night, like this middle-aged man in a suit, had heard too many stories about how the defenders of Sihang Warehouse fought against the Japanese.

The story was told with passion, making the middle-aged man in a suit look forward to it a little more.

But it seems that today's battlefield situation is somewhat different from what he expected.

The Japanese army has almost entered the most dangerous 40-meter area, and the Sixing Warehouse is still quiet.

It seems that the crazy heavy machine gun shooting and grenade bombing still cannot wake up the sleeping Chinese soldiers.

This is so abnormal that the Chinese people can't help but stamp their feet.

Forget about them, the Japanese army, which so far has not killed or even injured anyone, is actually even more confused. The idiot who was so scared that he accidentally slipped his foot and put his buttocks on his colleague's bayonet made a hole was not included in this list.

“Baga! The Chinese have a conspiracy!” Wakibajiro gritted his teeth and almost crushed the telescope in his hand.

"There is a conspiracy again. Should we stop the attack first?" Makino Jun felt that he was being played to death by his boss. He said this every day and there were no new words. But the key was that he had to find different ways to answer the question. As for the boss, this is the hardest thing.

"On the battlefield, pointing your **** at the enemy is a stupider choice." Jiro Wakita replied to his subordinates with great tactical knowledge.

'Then tell me a ball! Just keep attacking. ' Makino Jun is crazy OS inside.

If you don't say that, if you ask me, 'What are the Chinese people's conspiracy? 'How can I fix it? If I knew that, why would I be sitting here with you, an idiot? I've been making tea on the roof of Sihang Warehouse for a long time, okay? Ignoring the subordinates who were complaining madly in their hearts, Wakiitajiro tried his best to turn his thoughts to the battlefield.

The Japanese forwards have crossed the trenches and are about to reach the downstairs of the warehouse.

Sihang Warehouse was still silent.

“What's going on? Why don't you shoot and kill those idiots?” The middle-aged man in a suit was a little anxious.

“Don't worry, this is called luring the enemy deep, and the show will begin soon.” The rickshaw driver next to the middle-aged man in a suit said with a smile. Then, he looked at the big boss who rented his rickshaw all night with a strange look on his face: "Mr. Zhang, how do you speak Henan dialect?"

"How do you speak Henan! People from Henan are also Chinese. On the Songhu battlefield this time, there are a lot of soldiers from Henan. Maybe those brothers are many from Henan." I heard that the rickshaw driver I hired was discriminatory. The middle-aged man in a suit felt a little unhappy about what he meant in his hometown dialect, and glared as he spoke.

“Yes, I am definitely from Henan. I thought Mr. Zhang was a local at first!” The rickshaw driver grinned and nodded. He spoke more authentic Henan dialect than a middle-aged man in a suit.

“Fellow!” The middle-aged man in a suit was stunned.

“I'm from Nanyang, where are you from?”

“I am from Pingdingshan.”

“Not far apart!”

“Ha, let's not talk about family matters. Lao Zhou, tell me what's going on today?” the middle-aged man in a suit asked hurriedly.

“There's nothing to panic about. Our brothers in the national army have plenty of ways to deal with these gangsters.” The rickshaw driver was full of confidence. "I guess! Just wait until they turn into a pile of bones, then throw explosives and kill them all. It will be fun!"

Now, as long as you have watched the battle here for a few days, you will have some tactical accomplishments through ready-made examples. If the rickshaw driver can say this, he is obviously an old spectator.

“It makes sense, that's it, blow it up to death.” The middle-aged man in a suit felt a little relieved and waved his arms excitedly.

"Brothers Guojun, you can throw the explosives and blow them up to death." The rickshaw driver was a little excited when he saw that his boss agreed with his opinion.

“Blow this idiot to death!”

“The one who blew up his ass!”

Led by these two people, the people around them began to shout loudly in the slang of their hometown.

Then, as more and more Japanese infantry arrived downstairs, the shouts on the south bank of the concession became louder and louder.

People who have been to the football league finals in later generations have experienced it. The sound erupted by more than ten thousand people can almost knock off the roof. The people inside can't hear any other sound at all, including their own shouting at the top of their lungs. the sound of.

The situation now is that the shouts of landslides and earth shattering really frightened the Japanese soldiers who had rushed downstairs of Sihang Warehouse.

Not every Japanese soldier understands Chinese, but it is either one day or that day. It is not a good thing to hear it, especially the word "explosion" that someone who understands helped them translate, which aroused their already sensitive and fragile emotions. nerve.

This is what they fear most. As long as a grenade is thrown on the explosive package, another hole will be blown in the warehouse, but they will also float.

Even though we all came here with the intention of dying, when things came to pass, we could still live for a little longer.

The Japanese soldiers were almost all fearfully stacking explosives while building temporary fortifications to wait for the hail of bullets and the grenades and explosive packets dropped from upstairs.

That's normal operation.

The Chinese are looking forward to it, and the Japanese army is also waiting desperately.

But today this person is so unconventional.

The warehouse defender responded to everyone with continued silence.

That is a silence more frightening than a bullet or grenade.

(End of this chapter)

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