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Page 36
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"Avit Squadron calling command center! When will our backup arrive?!"
Inside a building engulfed in gunfire, poor Lieutenant Neil huddled in a cramped room with several soldiers in black. The sound of bullets slicing through the air and hammering their way into the walls could be heard from almost every direction.
"Our armored vehicles are destroyed! This place will soon become our coffins, you know that!"
Suddenly, a muffled rumble came from the west side of the building.
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"Sir! To the west, ah!..." The sound of walls being blown open could be heard over the radio.
On the street outside the building, an M8 armored vehicle fired another shot, followed by a volley of bullets from an M2 heavy machine gun, which gnawed at the area around the hole in the wall that had just been blasted open. Debris and bullets formed a dense spiderweb, sealing the breach in the wall and the window completely.
Outside, Jonathan and his men were sprinting down the road, taking turns firing and advancing. Under such relentless fire, it wasn't long before the sergeant and Jimmy reached the hole in the wall.
"Get ready, lad!" he shouted to the soldier, pulling a grenade from his person.
"OK!"
The two nodded to each other, then flicked the pins on their grenades and threw them into the hole in the wall. Two loud bangs followed, accompanied by waves of gray dust, which surged out of the breach.
"Go! Go!" Jimmy rushed into the house first and immediately spotted an unfortunate soul who hadn't hidden properly behind the bookshelf. Without a word, he fired a shotgun at the man. With a loud bang, the wooden cabinet was ripped open, and the black-skinned body fell solidly into a pool of flesh and blood.
"Yay! That was awesome!"
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While the two were still cleaning inside, a third and a fourth soldier also crawled in.
"Sir!"
"Is anyone hurt?"
"Only Heller's arm was injured, it's nothing serious, he'll be fine!"
"Ah, okay!" With that, the sergeant finally turned around to face them, while changing the magazine on his submachine gun.
"You three, get ready to come at me together!"
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"They've already stormed in!" Sergeant Dieter and his men squeezed to the window of a building on the other side, seemingly seeing what was happening inside.
"Watch your guns! Don't hurt your own people!"
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"Hey! Sergeant! Bulldog Number One is calling! Can you hear me?! Hare Number Two is approaching from behind, bringing all our packhorses!"
"Okay! There's nothing else we need to trouble you with! We can pack up our brooms and leave right away!"
"OK! We'll keep an eye on the east side for you! You're in charge of the packhorses' safety!"
"give it to me!"
In the distance, several green trucks emerged from the intersection. On the turret of the M8, Mr. Harry waved and directed the wheeled packhorses into a street far from the battlefield.
"Listen up! Machine guns, continue suppressive fire! Everyone else, prepare to advance!"
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A black helmet riddled with bullet holes and bloodstains flew out of a second-floor window.
"OK, this is the last one on the second floor!" A U.S. soldier, holding an M1 Garand rifle, stood in front of the corpse of a man in black and shouted behind him.
“Come on, kid!” Jonathan was crouching beside the stairs leading to the third floor, examining a black submachine gun used by the men in black. His own Thompson submachine gun, along with a pile of magazines, lay on the ground nearby.
"What are you doing, Sergeant! You had Jimmy and Corey upstairs covering your gold panning?"
"Grab my gun, kid!" The sergeant stood up, the strange gun clicking in his hand. "For catching mice, a submachine gun is more suitable!"
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"Sir, what do we do..." Two Britannian soldiers, their eyes filled with despair, stood beside Lieutenant Neil at the top floor entrance of the building. "It seems we're the only ones left..."
Downstairs, violent and crisp gunshots rang out one after another, like a surging flood reaching the floor.
"Two young brothers. Have you ever been afraid of death?"
“Well, sir…” a soldier replied, “I’ve done it before, but now… I hope that in the future, the lieutenant colonel and the others can bury me next to you…”
"Hmm? We don't regret leaving the EU and the Chinese Federation to follow Britannia." The lieutenant smiled and patted the soldier on the shoulder, his own eyes slightly moist.
"Alright, get your guns and daggers ready..."
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Footsteps slowly approached from the bottom of the stairs.
"OK, Sergeant! This is the last floor!" The soldier who had just taken over Thompson slowly approached the stairs.
"Throw a grenade up there!"
The soldier kept his submachine gun pointed upstairs with his right hand, and with his left hand he took out a fist-sized iron ball from his body and pulled the pin.
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Suddenly, a black figure emerged from the stairwell above and unleashed a flurry of gunfire at the soldiers.
"Ah!" The soldier screamed and fell to the ground. The grenade flew out of his hand amidst the splattering blood and rolled in front of the sergeant and Jimmy.
"Get down!" Jonathan yelled, shoving Jimmy aside. With lightning speed, he twisted his body and kicked the grenade into the inner room next door. Before he and Jimmy could even collide, a thunderous roar erupted inside.
Jimmy got up and looked at the little brother who had fallen.
"Li...no!"
"You bastards! I'm going to blast your asses to pieces today!" He grabbed his shotgun and charged into the stairwell.
"Get back here!" Jonathan grabbed him and shoved him to the ground.
"Listen! I hate the feeling of carrying an extra ID card in my pocket, okay?"
"Hey! Sergeant!" Turning around, he saw several new soldiers coming up from the next floor. "Is there trouble?"
"Guys! There are still a few alive up there! On my command! Raise your guns!"
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"Come on, kid! Show yourself if you dare!" Lieutenant Neil crouched behind the stairs, spraying handfuls of bullets downstairs.
"OK! Kid!" The lieutenant pulled back, changing his magazine as he called to the soldiers behind him, "Your turn!"
Just as the soldiers were about to move forward, a cacophony of gunfire erupted from beneath the floorboards. It was like a pot of boiling oil had been scalded with water. Bullets, like a pack of wolves, mixed with gushing dust, actually pierced through the floorboards and roared out!
"Ah!" the soldier cried out and collapsed, clutching his calf.
"Get out of the way! Get out of the way!"
Lieutenant Neil may not be very familiar with the power of bullets, at least not with his own assault rifle and the US Army Garand rifle. The former's bullets are definitely not as penetrating as the latter's "7.62mm x 63mm" specification. It would be much simpler and easier for them to penetrate the ceiling and fly to the ground floor above.
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"Come on, come on! Make room for me!"
Downstairs, a soldier carrying a BAR walked into the middle of the group of green helmets who had just been firing their rifles at the ceiling.
Just like everyone else wielding their M1 Garand semi-automatic rifles, he raised his BAR high, unleashing a barrage of fire onto the floor. Gravel and sand, like autumn leaves in the wind, danced and fell on the soldiers under the furious roar of the gunfire.
"Yes! That's more like it! Sergeant Campbell! You guys should get ready to go!"
"Okay!" Looking back, Jonathan had already dragged Lee, who had just been shot down, away from the stairs. Jimmy helplessly stuffed the rest of Lee's belongings into his pocket.
"Are you sure he's really beyond saving, sir?"
The sergeant ignored him, squatted down, picked up another grenade he had taken from the dead soldier, and turned the pin.
"Fire in the hole!"
The sound of grenades exploding still echoed between the walls, and the rifles were still gnawing at the ceiling. The sergeant had already rushed to the stairwell.
"Huh?" There was only a corpse on the ground.
"Cease fire!" he called out as he turned around.
The gunfire gradually subsided, and the sergeant stepped into the center of the room—scattered shell casings, discarded empty magazines, and bullet holes all piled up beside a lifeless black-clad corpse.
He casually fired a few more shots into the corpse's head, then quietly prepared to go into the inner room.
Suddenly, gunshots rang out from behind the door, and bursts of bullets flew towards him, tearing through the fragile wooden door.
This was exactly what the sergeant had in mind. He quickly lay down to the side, and naturally, the bullet didn't hit him; only a piece of cloth was torn off his clothes.
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There was no time to think about that. A black figure burst through the door, and in the blink of an eye, the two men's guns were pointed at each other, and they pulled the triggers almost simultaneously. For a fleeting moment, a hint of crimson seemed to flash in his eyes. Jonathan watched as the enemy fell, and then watched the fish, struggling desperately on the hook, fly out of his hand—he knew very well that he felt no pain from being shot.
Immediately afterwards, a second figure rushed out, grabbing a dagger and lunging at him.
The sergeant quickly rolled to the side, dodging the attack while also taking the opportunity to pull out his dagger.
Are you the last one?
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Two sharp knives of different shapes swung in the air, and two arms with sleeves of different colors collided in mid-air, each trying to avoid the imminent death.
Before long, their arms were locked together, one gripping the other's wrist, the other holding the knife, their eyes, covered in dirt and blood, staring fiercely at each other.
"Hmph! This is the most exciting day I've had since I became a second lieutenant!" This time it was the man in black's turn to speak first.
“Then I’m sorry,” Jonathan couldn’t stop talking. “I can’t remember how many officers have died at my hands, using this method.”
"Tch, you used to work in a circus, didn't you? People who say things like that are usually clowns trying to amuse children."
"The Joker?" Jonathan was about to answer when suddenly, from the large crater created by the collapsed floor behind the lieutenant, it seemed someone was calling his name.
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"Ah... I'm sorry, I'm a sergeant." He suddenly exerted force and began to push the man in black backward.