Ma Qian'an looked at several grasses in a daze. The loud noise of the devil's self-destruction had just disappeared. He sneered in his heart, so he could not get enough guns. Otherwise, the seriously injured would not survive. He committed suicide in a tragic way, and wanted to declare his tragic spirit of never surrendering to the end of the battle. He could only inspire some Japanese fools who did not understand the war. However, Ma Qian'an had no "shock and respect" in his heart.

"You, take your people to check carefully to see if there is still some life?" Ma Qian'an kicked Oda Jiro who was squatting at his feet. This person was the Japanese young man who could speak Chinese.

Ota stood up obediently and muttered a few Japanese words to his companions. A group of people slowly tread the grass and searched forward. As long as the Japanese surrendered, their inner changes were extremely rapid. Ota immediately began to serve the powerful new master of his mortal enemy, who had not been long ago, and he led the people in front of him. The soldiers sent by Ma Qian'an then replenished guns for some Japanese devils who were seriously injured or fainted. Ma Qian'an ordered that anyone who could breathe did not surrender would be replenished. Of course, he did not say what to do with the wounded who could only breathe and could not speak. The soldiers tacitly understood that the other party did not speak, that was not surrender.

An "evil" squad leader picked up a Southern Fourteen pistol from the ground, removed the magazine, removed the remaining bullets, and installed another bullet again, put the magazine back into the handle, pulled the bolt, loaded it up, untied the rope on Ota's wrist, and handed the gun into his hand.

"You, kill this!" The expressionless team leader pointed to the Japanese who was lying at Ota's feet, spitting blood foam in his mouth, and his mouth opened and closed, and his mouth was difficult to swallow the air.

The Japanese can still speak, and because of fear, they twisted their faces, begging Ota intermittently, "Ota-kun... save me..."

Ota knew the Japanese on the ground. This man came from the same rubber garden as him. He had a good relationship. Now the Chinese actually asked him to kill this companion with his own hands. Ota's mind buzzed, and his eyes were blank.

"Hurry up! You beast! You have done a lot of things like this, forcing your father to rape your daughter, and forcing your son to rape your mother. You have a lot of blood debts and are so guilty. I'll give you some benefits today and let you understand their feelings at that time."

"It's not what I did." Ota defended himself by being labeled as a big hat.

Seeing that Ota was still moving, the team leader suddenly pressed Ota's back with his gun, "I'll count one, two, three, don't you kill you, have you seen them? Some people do it." The team leader pointed to the half-** animals around him.

Ota turned his face to Ma Qian'an, who was more than ten meters away, hoping that Ma Qian'an would stop this inhumane humiliation. Unfortunately, he saw Ma Qian'an sitting on a corpse, "carefully" studying the bullet holes in the other party's brain, and putting his fingers in without disgust.

Ota vomited suddenly. If this demon came to Tokyo, he might have to play a Thousand Person Slash. Ota knew about the Nanjing Hundred Person Slash Competition.

"Two!" The captain's slow voice hit Ota's mind like a death talisman. Ota raised his pistol suddenly and pointed the muzzle at his head. His whole body was trembling, and his speech was inconsistent, "Please, don't force me... don't force me..."

Ma Qian'an snorted softly and continued to "invisible". Damn's legs, this team leader is too angry with me, I can't do it myself, you do it.

Ota collapsed and sought help from his friends around him. All the friends around him bowed their heads, and one of them actually glanced at him with a slanted eye, with "encouragement" on his face.

Ota "fully understood" what his companion meant, and it was like that, "Do you do it!" Otherwise, we have to do it. If you do it, we will be free. Ota was "recognized" by his compatriots. He no longer hesitated. He trembled and took the pistol away from his temples, aimed at the familiar face with a surprised and begged, pulled the trigger, and shot the wounded at his feet to death with a bang.

"Yaxi!" The captain patted Ota on the shoulder with admiration, "Follow us to kill the Japanese! You are qualified."

Unfortunately, although Ota was praised by the Chinese, it did not receive the recognition of his companions who were both prisoners. A group of devils chattered and cursed and despised Ota.

Ota pointed at one of them and howled, "It's you, you agree. You agreed with the expression just now."

"I don't!" The accused Japanese stubbornly retorted "disdainfully" and refused to admit it. In a panic, no one could confirm whether the captured Japanese hinted at agreeing. Perhaps it was agreed or perhaps Ota was in a daze and mistakenly thought of agreeing, but the indisputable fact is: Ota "killed" his comrades with his own hands, which became a stain that could not be denied.

There is only one way in front of Ota, and he was devoted to the traitor that day.

After the "play" was finished, Ma Qian'an was like a belated policeman, impatiently driving away the soldiers and prisoners who surrounded him, "It's not right, have you finished cleaning the battlefield? Well? Get together for a meeting?"

The team leader wanted to slip away from the side, but was stared at by Ma Qian'an, "You, bring someone to support the political commissar of the Zhan, searching for the Japanese is so slow, it's really worrying. I said Xiao Liuzi..."

Before Ma Qian'an finished nagging, the team leader rushed out of a distance, waved his hand and led his team to the place where the gunshots were still ringing, running for more than 20 meters before turning back and smiling, "I don't call me Xiaoliuzi, my name is Shago."

When the commanders from several directions were searching for the remaining enemies, they had already divided up some troops to support Zhan Rui. The 3rd squadron led by Zhan Rui was still fighting against the special agent team led by Miyamoto, and the two sides fought hard.

The Japanese agents are equipped with relatively well-equipped guns, with magazine-type Thomson submachine guns and Mauser submachine pistols. As for the old and broken things like the Southern Fourteenth Type, few people like them, even domestic ones. The individual soldiers of this part of the Japanese are not weaker than the team that surrounds him, and the individual soldiers are of better quality than the third squadron, which is why Zhan Rui can't win Miyamoto for a long time.

Chisong was injured, covering her abdomen and lying on the back of a big tree, gasping for breath, looking for the target with her blood-red eyes, holding a mullet gun in her hand, and firing a shot from time to time.

Through the gap, Chisong saw a figure flashing on a tree canopy more than 2 meters away. Chisong immediately waved his hand without hesitation, and the figure roared and fell from the tree canopy.

Akamatsu's shooting skills are extremely accurate. A veteran agent not only has excellent skills and tactics, but his subordinates and Miyamoto's direct subordinates have one or two skills. Although there are only more than 30 people, they withstand the attack of more than 10 people when the overall firepower is weaker than the other party.

It's still impossible to tear the opponent's encirclement! Miyamoto, hiding behind another big tree, glanced at the gloomy dense forest in front of him, and was a little desperate. He rushed towards him twice in a row, threw down 8 corpses, and walked only more than ten meters before being locked again.

The situation is getting worse and worse. The sound of machine guns like a bean-like explosion in the empty field and the thunder-like explosions have basically stopped. The opponent has wiped out the "big troops" he threw in the empty field and will reinforce immediately. God knows that they will set up several blockades.

His "large force" was very unsatisfied and did not persist until dark. The plan to escape while it was dark could not be realized. So I might as well fight! No matter whether I could do it within a minute, I had to launch a last attack, break the face-to-face blockade, and I recognized it even if I survived. The survival ** made Miyamoto excited again, avoiding the air waves of a grenade exploded, Miyamoto quickly climbed to the bottom of the hidden tree roots of Akamatsu.

"Kun Akasong, I'm going to break through, are you okay?" Miyamoto took out his hemostatic medicine bag and tore it open, then took away Akasong's left hand that he covered on the wound and helped him sprinkle it on the wound.

Seeing Miyamoto showing a hint of kindness, Chisong's tense nerves suddenly relaxed, and immediately felt the power of his body flowing away. Chisong raised his right hand with difficulty and shot a place in the dense forest. Then, his soft and weak arm drooped down and spit out a mouthful of blood foam. He looked at Miyamoto with his unsavage eyes: "You go, you will be defeated, you will be punished when you go back, I will die here!"

Miyamoto looked at Akatsumatsu with a complicated expression, and finally lowered his once "high" head, saying goodbye to Akatsumatsu with shame and apologies, "Akatsumatsu, I really shouldn't have competed with you for the position of commander that day. Sorry, take care of me!"

Miyamoto left, summoned the remaining team loudly and issued an order to prepare for a last try.

Chisong was no longer able to raise the gun, his consciousness gradually became blurred, and he spoke in his mouth, "What's the matter? It's not the same..."

More and more reinforcements were coming, Miyamoto was getting more and more crazy, the bullets were intertwined in the dense forest, and the sound of grenade explosions became increasingly dense. The warhead shrapnel pierced at all obstacles with strong force, tree chips flew, leaves and thatch flying everywhere.

Miyamoto paid the price of more than half a horse and finally broke through the encirclement directly south, and passed several Chinese corpses hidden behind the tree by grenades. Miyamoto ran to death with the remaining three people.

The chasing bullets made the trunks beside him twitch, and he didn't bother to turn back and fight back. Miyamoto's willpower was urging his legs, and his adrenaline was high. His speed was soaring that he was even surprised.

In a trance, he felt that his subordinates behind him fell to the ground one by one. There was no familiar Japanese accent behind him, and there was only noisy shouting. Fear drove Miyamoto faster, his legs whizzing, and his feet were whizzing. The bushes that were usually hard to cross were actually swished by him. Run, run, the more fragments on his body were thrown, pistols, bullets, grenades, and telescopes were discarded one by one. Pants, bullets, grenades, and telescopes were discarded one by one. Pants, bullets, grenades, and telescopes were discarded one by one. Pants had been torn by branches and bushes, and his legs were covered in blood and blood, but Miyamoto felt no pain at all. The sound behind him was close and far away, and he was reluctant to leave. Until one of the huge voices exploded in his ears at the last moment when he lost consciousness, the hurdle and Iron Man Decathlon was over.

"The grass mud horse, you can run so fast after being shot twice! Remove both legs and perform an experiment!"
Chapter completed!