Los Angeles defector

Encountered around the corner

The vampires have a large group of over a thousand people, and they have brought several hundred defected soldiers. They are currently pressing down the southern bypass road, with a portion of their forces detouring from the east to flank and intercept at the northern entrance of Nameless Village.

Slashmaster, with bandages wrapped around his head, stood by the small road to the south of the village, furrowing his brow tightly and staring in the direction of the incoming threat. The vampires were indeed approaching, a harsh reality that had to be accepted even if begrudgingly. The villagers had already fled to the west mountain, which was the only silver lining in this situation.

With just around a hundred soldiers in the Second Platoon, how long could they hold off the vampires? The vampires were already maneuvering to flank from the east and intercept the northern route. Once they succeeded in surrounding the Second Platoon, it would be a swift end for them. Should they follow the villagers west? It wouldn't be right to run ahead of the civilians, but trailing behind wouldn't get them far either. If they immediately led the Second Platoon north, they might still have a chance to evacuate in time. However, the villagers from the west mountain had not fled far yet. If the Second Platoon left now, they would undoubtedly be in danger. This dilemma weighed heavily on Slashmaster's mind, leaving him breathless with indecision.

In the same situation, different commanders with varying temperaments and personalities would employ different tactics. Slashmaster, with a fiery temperament yet not reckless, possessed a blend of roughness and subtlety. Simply running away with the Second Platoon was something he couldn't bear. Stuck in this predicament, allowing the vampires to devour the Second Platoon alive was something he refused to accept.

After intense internal struggle, Slashmaster finally made a firm decision. Saving the villagers was a matter of principle, and he was determined to save as many as he could. The Second Platoon could not be sacrificed either. If the Second Platoon were to perish like this, Slashmaster would not be able to live with himself. With gritted teeth, he finally issued the order.

One platoon abandoned the roadside positions in the south and retreated into the residential houses of the village to engage in urban warfare, determined to defend to the death with no option for retreat. All the wounded soldiers in recovery were placed under the command of this platoon: those able to shoot were given firearms, while those unable to shoot were provided grenades. The second and third platoons were tasked with defending the northern outskirts of the village, blocking the vampires attempting to encircle from the east and securing the retreat route.

Slashmaster's intentions were clear. In order to delay the vampires, the soldiers and wounded of one platoon were destined to be sacrificial pawns. They would hold out until they could delay no longer, at which point Slashmaster would lead the second and third platoons in a direct breakout to the north, drawing the vampires into pursuit. It must be said that in the current situation, Slashmaster's decision was impeccable and beyond reproach.

Jason and Emily climbed to the top of East Mountain, and shortly after, Martin also joined them.

"Bro, why aren't we running west with the people? What are we doing here on this East Mountain?"

"Let's run east."

"Ah?" Martin peeked at the steep cliff not far to the east and said, "This, we can't go down here either?"

Jason pointed to a nearby bush and said, "There's a long rope there that we can use to climb down." This rope was used by Jason to train Emily in climbing and was usually kept on the top of this East Mountain.

Martin couldn't help but marvel, "This Jason guy truly lives up to his reputation as a deserter. This is being prepared in advance, right?" Listening to the advice of a veteran is always right; it's indeed the truth. "Bro, what are we waiting for? Let's go," he said as he walked towards the bush and picked up a bundle of long rope.

Jason found a rock to sit on, rubbing his temples. The aftereffects of the concussion were still causing him intermittent pain. "We can't leave now. The vampires are probably passing through below us, moving north to flank. We'll go down when we hear gunfire from the north."

The vampires, through early reconnaissance, learned that there should be guards at the southern end of this village. However, upon their arrival, they found nothing. Without hesitation, they proceeded to enter the village directly. They were met with a barrage of gunfire and a wave of grenades from a line of resistance fighters, who had abandoned the outskirts to engage in close-quarters combat. Hastily mounting a machine g*n, they opened fire, sending a hail of bullets into the village. It was hard to discern any immediate impact, but at least the gunfire from the resistance fighters became sporadic. Seeing an opportunity, the infantry at the front attempted to advance again. Just as they were about to enter, another wave of grenades was thrown aimlessly from behind windows and walls, accompanied by more gunfire. While the sounds of gunfire were not numerous, likely just a reinforced platoon, the trouble caused was significant. The vampires were infuriated, stomping their feet in frustration.

They mounted the grenade launcher once more, not bothering to aim much, and simply fired wildly into the village. Dozens of grenades rained down with a cacophony of explosions, creating a chaotic and deafening barrage. While the grenades' power was limited, they still managed to turn the village into a chaotic scene of flying bricks and dust.

Lieutenant Colonel Vampire set down his binoculars. The forces preparing to flank from the north seemed to be almost in position. It appeared that the resistance fighters were not numerous, and with the right pressure, they would likely be unable to escape. There was no need for reckless charges and unnecessary sacrifices. Instead, it was decided to intensify the assault. He ordered the newly arrived artillery unit to join the fray.

This time, it was a long-range operation, and the most significant firepower available was the 90mm mortar. They quickly found a suitable position, assembled and set up the mortar, estimated the wind direction, adjusted the range, and loaded the shells into the mortar. After a flurry of activity, they finally began to prepare the mortar rounds for firing.

Martin commanded the Second and Third Platoons, gritting his teeth as they held off a hasty flanking attack by the vampires at the northern crossroads. They sacrificed over a dozen soldiers and left many more wounded. Turning to look at the village engulfed in artillery fire, he silently affixed a gleaming bayonet to the muzzle of his rifle and solemnly gave the order: "Prepare to break through!"

Martin was the first to climb down the rope, followed by Emily. Jason stood at the edge of the cliff on the eastern summit, taking out his pocket watch to check the time. The battle had been going on for half an hour, and the gunfire from the north had yet to cease. The combat effectiveness of the Second Platoon was much better than he had estimated. Slashmaster was not a reckless man; he had done his best. With a click, he closed the watch and put it back in his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he bent down, gripped the rope tightly, and became the last to disappear from the eastern summit.

Robert Wealthy trudged through the mountain stream, carrying a machine g*n. Exhausted beyond endurance, he finally threw the machine g*n into the ditch, then collapsed on the ground like a sick bear. He grabbed his worn-out water flask and tilted it to drink, but not a drop came out even though he turned it upside down. Dumbfounded, he looked at the empty flask for a moment, then with a shrug, he tossed it into the ditch as well.

Goodness gracious, from last night until now, I'm so hungry that my stomach is sticking to my back. Now, I don't even have water to drink. How come I, Robert Wealthy, am so unlucky? If I keep wandering aimlessly like this, I'll starve to death sooner or later. It seems I need to find a village to rest in first. The problem is, villages around here are scarce, mostly plagued by the bandits of Black Wind Mountain. Especially with my tall stature, anyone who sees me will remember me for a lifetime. Even if I enter a village, there's no guarantee I'll be treated kindly or get to enjoy any good food.

I can't just throw away the machine g*n; carrying it might help intimidate people when entering the village. But then again, some villagers can be quite tough. What if they don't fall for it and decide to fight back? Perhaps I could sell the machine g*n? Trade it for some food to eat? Even though that clunky machine g*n is too heavy, I can't afford to discard it right now.

After resting for a while, Robert Wealthy sighed, got up, went down into the ditch to retrieve his machine g*n, hoisted it back onto his shoulder, and continued on his way, swaying with his tall figure.

About to leave the mountain ravine, just as he reached the corner, Robert Wealthy suddenly came face to face with three individuals. In the mutual expressions of bewilderment, Robert Wealthy anxiously unloaded the machine g*n from his shoulder and held it close to his chest, saying, "Goodness! Don't move! Don't do anything rash! I've got a machine g*n in my hands!"