A Japanese army infantry battalion, led by Battalion Commander Murakami Kagesada, aggressively advanced toward the Eighth Route Army stronghold. Upon reaching the perimeter, Murakami Kagesada's face turned gloomy. His cold gaze swept across the surroundings before he suddenly waved his hand, dispatching a small squad of Japanese soldiers to search the encampment.
This small squad consisted of about a dozen men, all of them tense. Holding their rifles and hunching over, they cautiously made their way into the interior of the village. The village was dead silent; doors and windows were tightly shut, devoid of any sign of life. The Japanese soldiers split into several groups, searching house by house. They gently pushed open door after door to find the interiors completely empty. Daily necessities were scattered about at random, clearly showing that the villagers had evacuated in a hasty yet orderly manner, leaving behind no useful clues for the Japanese.
As the search penetrated deeper, they arrived at an open clearing. The leading Japanese soldier was focusing intently on the road ahead when suddenly the ground gave way beneath his feet. With a miserable scream of "Ah," he fell into a hidden pit. Sharp bamboo spikes at the bottom instantly pierced his body, and blood gushed out. He struggled and cried out in agony within the pit, his voice wretched and desperate. The trailing Japanese soldiers were instantly terrified, halting their steps in unison. With wide eyes, they watc…
Chapter 219