The gunshots gradually subsided, but the noises and cries started again. It was the people who began to cry out for their relatives who had been accidentally injured or killed during the manhunt.
"Shut your f**king mouths. Are you covering up for the Japanese by making such a fuss?" Old Man Wang cursed in a courtyard.
What is the logic? The common people were not allowed to cry when someone died in their homes. Instead, they were said to be people related to enemy agents.
But Mr. Wang’s shout worked just fine!
The reason is that the two people who were beaten to death in their yard were really Japanese!
Under Wang Lao Mao's order, the two men had been stripped by the soldiers, leaving only a cloth belt each, which is what Wang Lao Mao and his gang often call their butt pockets.
Everyone in China likes to wear big pants, but the Japanese just wrap a piece of cloth around their crotch to cover their private parts.
"Look at those bandy legs, and look at the stature that is much shorter than that of us Chinese, this guy is a Japanese devil!
What are you shouting? If you harbor the Japanese, that is treason! No more trouble! If you make trouble again, I'll catch you all behind the fence! "Old Mao Wang then acted cruelly to a crying housewife.
Wang Lao Mao behaved so violently that the woman finally shut her mouth.
The man in this family is dead. He was killed by a bullet. As for who was killed, there is no way to investigate, or Mr. Wang doesn't want to pursue it.
This was a crudely designed arrest.
Those enemy agents were mixed among the civilians in this area, and there was no precise investigation. This random arrest resulted in a battle. Of course, the enemy agents would be killed, and it was inevitable that civilians would be accidentally injured. It was also inevitable that some enemy agents would escape. Unavoidable.
Mr. Wang estimates that most of the enemy agents have been killed by now, which is enough.
In the words of later generations, Wang Laomao belongs to the old-style army, not the people's army.
In his logic, he didn't think it would be okay if a few civilians were accidentally injured and killed during such an arrest operation.
If you guys killed these Japanese soldiers in plainclothes, how many civilians would you save? What's more, some of He Liang's people also died. If a common man was accidentally injured and several people were killed and made such a fuss, then what about the soldiers who died for the country? Do the soldiers deserve to die?
The hustle and bustle gradually subsided, and He Liang's military police had taken control of the situation.
Any courtyard where enemy agents are found will be controlled by soldiers.
The enemy agents who were captured alive were escorted out and gathered on the street. Of course there were traitors among them, and there were also Japanese disguised as Chinese, but they had all been beaten to death.
The reason here is naturally that when some of the traitors were captured and saw that they could not escape, they finally surrendered, but the Japanese would never surrender.
"Boss, oops, are you injured? What is that in your hand?" Little Dustpan shouted in surprise when he saw Shang Zhen.
Just because he saw that Shang Zhen's left hand was wrapped with cloth and stained with blood, but he was holding a small object in his right hand.
"I was bitten by this thing. It might be the little devil's hidden weapon." Shang Zhen replied.
"Are you okay?" Little Dustpan asked with concern. He saw that Shang Zhen's hand was only wrapped with a piece of cloth, so he guessed it was just a minor injury.
Even workers at construction sites who often do civil engineering work will have some bruises on their arms, hands and feet, let alone soldiers like Shang Zhen who often go to the battlefield.
Not to mention that they were injured by the enemy's firepower. When doing various tactical actions, their bodies would inevitably be bumped and scratched by various things such as earth, stones, and trees.
"It's okay." Shang Zhen said nonchalantly, and then he casually threw the small object in his hand towards the small dustpan.
Shang Zhen fell from the wall because a sharp weapon injured the back of his hand.
After the battle, he was curious about what had hurt him, so he searched outside the big wall and finally found such an object.
The little dustpan saw that although the object thrown by Shang Zhen was not big, it was dark and sharp, so he did not dare to reach out to catch it.
When the thing fell to the ground, Little Dustpan squatted down to look at it.
That thing is in the shape of a "ten". It looks like two wooden sticks tied into a cross shape, but it is actually an iron tool, and the four corners are polished extremely sharp.
"What kind of thing is this?" Little Dustpan muttered and squatted down curiously, picked up the object with his hands and observed it carefully.
But at this time, Shang Zhen had already walked to the adjacent yard.
The large wall of this courtyard is very high, and it is also the courtyard where Shang Zhen fell from the wall before.
Although no one is crying or making noise in the yard now, it still looks very messy.
Several soldiers were watching with rifles, and in the middle of the yard, there were dead people lying on the ground, people squatting on the ground, and people with blood on their hands.
However, Shang Zhen immediately noticed that a person had fallen under the eaves, apparently dead.
Shang Zhen just took one look at the man's figure and knew that this guy must be Japanese.
"It should be the guy who injured you. When that guy jumped up to the roof, he was shot down by our brother on the other side of the house!
This dick is pretty good at throwing, and he can also fly over walls, but what if he can fly over walls? Can it be faster than my gun? "A soldier cursed.
That soldier was He Liang's subordinate, and he saw it with his own eyes when Shang Zhen fell from the wall.
Shang Zhen approached the dead man, who had been turned over by the soldiers first. He had an ordinary face. If he were walking on the street, he would be no different from a Chinese, but this face still made Shang Zhen feel disgusted. .
Shang Zhen wanted to raise his foot and crush this guy's face, but in the end he did not do so.
Shang Zhen was not an extreme person. Although he had a deep hatred for the Japanese invaders, he would not do anything like whipping corpses after death.
"What's going on?" Shang Zhen turned around and saw the deceased in the yard.
"I don't know, maybe it's the common people, maybe it's the Japanese." The soldier replied.
Shang Zhen stepped forward and looked down at the deceased.
The deceased was in his forties, and Shang Zhen thought he must be Chinese.
He squatted down and took a closer look. At this time, he noticed that there were calluses on the deceased's hands, and the calluses were not on the index finger of his right hand.
Veterans like Shang Zhen and others use weapons for many years and use their index fingers to pull the trigger, so their fingers are calloused.
But this person didn't. He shouldn't be a soldier.
However, Shang Zhen's eyes immediately rested on the wound of the deceased.
The deceased's heart was covered in blood, but the details of the wound could not be seen clearly due to the cover of the clothes.
Shang Zhen thought for a moment, then pinched the bloody clothes with his fingertips and glanced at the wound.
As for what he saw, only he himself knows.
Then he stood up expressionlessly and looked at the two young men and a little boy next to the deceased.
The little boy looked five or six years old, with tears still on his face. He looked at the deceased on the ground from time to time, but when he noticed that Shang Zhen was looking at him, he quickly looked away.
It was obvious that the child had been frightened.
"Child, do you know this person?" Shang Zhen asked slowly and in a low voice.
In this regard, Shang Zhen is different from Mr. Wang. Shang Zhen has never been a beard. From the bottom of his heart, he sympathizes with the weak.
The child looked at Shang Zhen in horror but said nothing.
"Don't be afraid, uncle is a good man and is here to help you catch the bad guys." Shang Zhen said gently again.
Shang Zhen had never dealt with such a child before, and he didn't know how to gain the trust of such a child. He could only explain it in his own way.
If at this time he takes out a piece of candy and gives it to the child, don't be afraid! If there is anything wrong, then he is not Shang Zhen, then he is a Japanese devil!
Perhaps Shang Zhen's attitude made the child feel safe after all. After a while, the child timidly said two words: "Grandpa."
Shang Zhen couldn't help but frown, sighing secretly in his heart, and then he turned his attention to the two young men squatting next to the deceased.
One of the men was in his mid-twenties, and his hands were covered in blood. He looked like a surgeon performing a disembowelment operation.
"Look up, what's wrong with you?" Shang Zhen stretched out his toes and lightly kicked the man who was squatting on the ground with blood on his hands but not looking at him.
"Help." The man looked up and replied.
"Really?" Shang Zhen was noncommittal. His eyes looked away after touching the man's eyes.
At this time, another man also raised his head. The man was thin. When Shang Zhen looked at the man, he seemed to see himself when he had just joined the army. At that time, his nickname was "Ma Gan'er".
Shang Zhen's eyes only stayed on the two men for a moment, and then he looked at the little boy and asked: "Child, did you see who killed your grandfather? Tell the truth, I’ll make the decision for you!”
