Los Angeles defector

The battle is over

The path in the valley has turned into a b****y path, a path of death. Most people are no longer moving, only a dozen or so injured individuals are still writhing and wailing by the roadside, rolling around in agony. The last pseudo-soldier unscathed is hiding behind the nearby corpses, having already wet himself; he has long since collapsed. Everything happened too suddenly, passed by too quickly. In just a few minutes, when he finally decided to escape at all costs, he didn't even realize he was the only one left unharmed.

He threw away the sack, he threw away the g*n, he threw everything away, wishing he could make himself as light as a feather, immediately blown away by the wind. He didn't care where the enemy's g*n barrels were, or how many enemies there were. He just stood up directly, not looking at anything, just staring at the path he came from, and started running for his life.

He joined the Imperial Auxiliary Army just to have food to eat, to eat his fill, to eat well. Like countless others who were numb, he was just trying to survive. This was not the battle he wanted, nor was it his ideal. It was only because of the fear of death that he joined the search party, avoiding the chance to go to the battlefield, but in doing so, he ended up running into the barrel of a g*n.

Bang! The life-threatening gunshot rang out again, a bullet whizzed past him, grazing his side and hitting the roadside by his feet, causing a spray of gray soil.

Moving targets are not easy to hit. Although Jason on the hilltop is only about a hundred meters away from the road below, this shot missed and didn't hit its mark.

Jason mechanically re-aimed at the panicked figure running, pulling the trigger once more. Click—misfire! The primer of this problematic bullet failed to ignite as it got stuck in the chamber. Clack clack clack—Jason swiftly worked the action of the g*n repeatedly, attempting to dislodge the dud round. In the midst of this, suddenly, two gunshots rang out from below. Through Martin's g*n sights, the last target capable of running also vanished.

Jason handed the machine g*n to Robert Wealthy, instructing him and Emily to stay on the hilltop, while he himself descended into the valley.

Robert Wealthy stood on the road, holding his g*n, looking somewhat dazed at the scene unfolding so close by. Have we done it? Is the battle over? Is this real? Watching the heavily wounded enemies groaning and writhing not far away, he still couldn't believe if this was real.

"The battle is not over yet, raise your g*n!" Hearing Jason's stern reminder, Martin snapped out of his daze, only to realize that Jason had already descended the slope and arrived on this blood-red road.

Martin, confused but obedient, raised his g*n once again. Not just Martin, but also Robert Wealthy and Emily on the hilltop were puzzled. Wasn't it over? The gunfire had ceased, only a few wounded figures writhing around; there couldn't possibly be any more threats. What were they waiting for? Especially Robert Wealthy, frustration mounting within him. "Come on, clear the battlefield already! There are guns and ammunition strewn all over the place, not to mention those poor souls' pockets might hold a good amount of dollars. Why aren't they letting me go down? Jason, what's going on? Are you planning to loot first? This is urgent, isn't it?"

Martin, on the scene, watched as Jason picked up a Type 38 rifle with a bayonet attached from the ground. Jason then pulled back the bolt to check the bullets in the magazine, chambered a round, surveyed his surroundings, strolled to one end of the battlefield, raised the bayonet, and with a swift motion, stabbed the first body at a vital point. He then withdrew the bayonet and moved on to the next, proceeding in a systematic order, one by one.

Finally, it was the turn of the first wounded person, a member of the enemy forces. His right shoulder had been shattered by a bullet, and he lay on the ground groaning in pain. He saw the blood-stained bayonet moving towards his chest. "Oh, no, spare me, I-I'm not a vampire, I was just helping to carry things, spare me, please, no, don't, I... Ah—."

Martin's eyelids were twitching uncontrollably, his whole body numb with shock. Jason's face remained cold and unchanged, showing no reaction to the pitiful, dying pleas. He nonchalantly pulled the bayonet out of the now motionless chest, letting blood spurt from the blade, and continued on to the next target. Moving forward methodically, one step at a time, he proceeded in sequence, regardless of life or death, aiming for either the chest or the back, striking at the heart with each stab. He didn't seem like he was on a battlefield, not like a soldier; rather, he resembled a worker in a factory, mechanically repeating a mundane task.

When Jason pulled out the bayonet for the forty-fifth time, the last wounded member of the enemy forces had crawled several tens of meters away, distancing himself from this b****y hell. Shot in the abdomen, he was unable to stand up again. He watched in horror as the demon mercilessly wielded the bayonet, leaving no survivors. The gruesome scene made him cry; he didn't want to die, but unable to stand, he exerted all his strength to crawl. Sobbing as he crawled, he believed that the farther he crawled, the safer he would be. He thought that as long as he crawled far enough, he could escape from the blood-drenched bayonet in the hands of that demon.

Jason stopped in his tracks, not pursuing the body that had crawled tens of meters away. At that moment, not only Martin, but also Emily and Robert Wealthy on the hillside, let out a long sigh of relief, instantly releasing the tension that had gripped their hearts. Despite knowing that they were all enemies, the three spectators found themselves subconsciously sympathizing with these individuals. Perhaps it was because they felt Jason was too ruthless, too numb, or perhaps it was the dying pleas and cries that touched their hearts. For whatever reason, the three of them felt a sense of relief simultaneously, grateful for Jason's pause, feeling pity for the individual sobbing and crawling away.

Bang! The sound of a gunshot abruptly jolted Martin and the other two out of their daze. A bullet struck the back of the enemy soldier, piercing through his heart and disappearing into the ground. The cries came to an abrupt halt, leaving behind only a stiff posture of crawling.

As the g*n smoke lingered in the air, Jason removed the blood-red bayonet from his g*n and carefully wiped it on the back of a corpse, cleaning off the blood stains, causing it to once again gleam with a faint metallic cold light. He then tore off the bayonet sheath from the corpse and tied it behind his waist, sheathing the blade. Only then did he shout towards the hillside, "What are you all standing there for? Come down and clean up the battlefield."

So this was the end of the battle! While shooting, Martin only felt tense, his whole body stiff, without any other sensations. However, after witnessing Jason's s*******r scene before his eyes, with blood everywhere, Martin felt his legs go weak, his insides churning. Involuntarily, he bent over and knelt on the ground, retching uncontrollably, unable to stop.

Jason has already shouted, but Robert Wealthy still hasn't moved. Damn it, he's not human, he's definitely not human. He has no conscience, he's a demon, unforgivable. I'm not going down there. Who knows if he's possessed? What if his eyes go blank and he comes at me with a bayonet too? Stabbing me alive, blood everywhere, my heart is about to jump out of my throat, and he's acting like nothing's wrong. I'm not going down there, I won't go down without understanding the situation.

Emily has the heart of a child, her thoughts are not complex. The b****y scene did indeed shock and confuse her, but when she heard Jason's shout, she was the first to feel joy. We won! The fox didn't die! The enemies are all dead! We killed all the enemies! I have a brave fox, a fierce fox, an invincible fox!

A pair of braids swayed in the wind, and they cheerfully ran down the hillside...