Zhou Zhiyuan and the others had just crept to the outer perimeter of the observation post, the damp moss making a faint squishing sound under their military boots. Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the sandbags, casting mottled shadows across the face of a Japanese Army soldier who was wiping his bayonet. The soldier suddenly raised his head, his Adam's apple bobbing as he brought the bayonet horizontally across his chest—he had caught the scent of unusual blood.
Chen Erzhu's wrist flicked, sending three flashes of silver. The poisoned flying daggers tore through the night, two burying themselves into the Japanese Army soldier's collarbones, and the last striking straight for the throat. The death throes had not yet ceased before the other four men lunged forward like black panthers. Wang Mazi slid low, pressing close to his target, his bayonet sweeping diagonally upward from the underside of the Japanese Army soldier's jaw. The moment it scrambled the brain stem, he used the momentum to spin around, a warm geyser of blood splashing against the sandbags he had just stood by, kicking up fine grains of sand. Li Sanhu clamped his arms like iron pincers around another Japanese Army soldier's neck, driving his knee into the man's lower back. With a crisp "crack," the cervical vertebrae snapped, and as the corpse went limp, he surged forward with the momentum, planting his palm on the ground to vault over and avoid the spraying blood.
The Japanese Army soldier on the far rig…
Chapter 443