The guerrilla fighters were utterly exhausted. Their faces were splattered with blood, and some bore wounds, yet nothing could mask the joy of victory. The captain, pushing through his injuries, began organizing the men to clear the battlefield. With eyes full of sorrow and respect, they carefully collected the remains of their fallen comrades and laid them neatly to one side. Next, they searched the bodies of the Japanese Army, confiscating weapons and ammunition. Every single rifle and bullet was picked up with the utmost care; these spoils of war were unimaginably precious to a guerrilla unit chronically short on equipment.
In a brief moment of respite, the guerrilla captain raised his head, gazing toward the mountaintop where Leitao was located, his heart filled with a mixture of gratitude and puzzlement. Tucking his Jin-made Mauser Pistol into the tactical belt at his waist, he walked a few steps in the direction of Leitao's mountain, cupped his hands around his mouth to form a megaphone, and shouted loudly, "I know not which friend from the outside has lent a helping hand to bail us out. I, Tang Zhangshan, offer my thanks here! Might it be convenient for you to come down and meet?"
Hearing Tang Zhangshan's call, Leitao felt a slight stirring in his heart. After a moment of thought, he decided to reveal himself. He stored his TSVL-8 high-precision sniper rifle away into the Bagua Spinning Top Space, took out a Springfield sniper rifle to sling across his back, and retr…
Chapter 118