Chapter 58

**Requesting recommendation votes, thank you.**

---

The usually composed commander was furious, his eyes glaring fiercely at the fat man. Unfortunately, this fat man wasn't under his command, or he would have dealt with him immediately. Moreover, this guy was likely...

The fat man ignored him, raising his head and glaring back.

The political commissar, seeing the commander and the fat man at odds, gave Colonel Ma a meaningful look and then said with a chuckle, "Commander, the operations plan sent by the chief of staff hasn't been reviewed yet. Why don't you go back and take a look? I'll handle this matter."

Colonel Ma, being quick-witted, quickly pulled the fat man aside and said, "Brother, give me some face. This is our commander, after all."

"Fat Master hates it when others lecture him with a condescending attitude," the fat man said with a fierce expression. This trip to the Eighth Route Army was truly humiliating. First, his name caused ridicule, and now this pretentious commander was scolding him. What had he done to deserve this?

"If it weren't for his age, Fat Master would have taken him down!" the fat man said angrily.

"Uh, what?" Colonel Ma was startled, thinking he must have heard wrong.

"Look at you, with all the habits of a thug. Today, I'll teach you a lesson in place of your father, you little rascal!" The commander, who hadn't heard this, immediately flew into a rage, unbuttoning his belt and struggling to break free from the political commissar's grip.

Indeed, the commander and Colonel Ma both liked to use their belts to discipline people.

"Haha!" The fat man laughed. In his previous life, he was an orphan. Taking over this fat man's body, he found that this fat man had a wealthy father, who was said to have joined the Tongmenghui in his early years. However, now this father was the head of the Japanese puppet government, a traitor.

No wonder he could raise such a traitorous son, truly following in his father's footsteps. If it weren't for him taking over this fat man's body, they would indeed be a pair of traitors.

"Commander." The political commissar, seeing the commander's genuine anger, which he hadn't seen in years, whispered, "I think Liu is just a stubborn mule. Let me handle this. That batch of medicine is important!"

The commander paused, rebuttoning his belt and calming down, wondering what had gotten into him today.

That batch of medicine was crucial for the lives of many soldiers. The commander knew the importance of this matter. Calming down, he nodded to the political commissar and whispered, "Don't tell him about me."

The political commissar smiled and nodded, watching the commander leave before turning to the fat man.

Actually, the commander and the political commissar's conversation, though whispered, was heard by the sharp-eared fat man.

What did "don't tell him about me" mean? He was a bit confused.

The commander and the political commissar were talking about the medicine. The fat man immediately had an idea. They clearly wanted him to go to Shanghai with Colonel Ma to retrieve the medicine, but they couldn't say it directly, so they had Colonel Ma tell him.

He was well aware that certain medicines in this era were under wartime control and had to be transported over long distances, especially through Japanese-occupied areas.

Such a mission couldn't be carried out by a large force; only a small, elite team could do it. As long as the fat man didn't have to fight in a large battle, he could consider it, especially if the Eighth Route Army's conditions were attractive enough.

Besides, he had something he needed from the Eighth Route Army.

This time, the bandit camp must have suffered many casualties. He couldn't do much for those who died, but he had to save the injured. Without Western medicine, relying on traditional Chinese medicine to treat gunshot and shrapnel wounds was like a dream.

"Do the words of your commander still count?" the fat man asked the political commissar.

"Of course, they do. What are your requirements and conditions?" the political commissar smiled, a smile that made the fat man pause.

Could there be some hidden agenda? The fat man thought. But whether it was a conspiracy or a trick, he wouldn't cooperate without a price.

He had already offended a commander, so he might as well drive a hard bargain. After all, he had already offended someone; how much worse could it get?

"Escorting the medicine from Shanghai isn't a problem, but it can't be done immediately. Give Fat Master seven days to take care of some matters. Also, if Fat Master has any injured men in the future, the divisional hospital must provide free treatment!" Who was the fat man? Even if he knew who the other party was, he wouldn't back down without a fight.

"Are you talking about the three hundred bandits on Tiger Mouth Mountain?" The political commissar remained calm, agreeing without hesitation. "I agree, but I have a condition."

"Hmm?" The fat man was taken aback, not expecting them to have investigated him so thoroughly. It seemed they had a plan all along. The political commissar's quick agreement made him suspect there was a catch, and indeed, there was.

"Your men must be a unit fighting the Japanese. Otherwise, the divisional hospital will not accept any of your injured." The political commissar said.

"No problem!" The fat man was fighting the Japanese.

"Do you have any other conditions? You can tell me everything, and I will try to meet them within the limits of the Eighth Route Army." The political commissar smiled at the fat man.

"Have Wang Yi accompany Fat Master on the mission." The fat man didn't dare say this, knowing what this political commissar would do in the future, which gave him a sense of oppression, making him more cautious.

But no worries, courting a woman was like sneaking into a village, without making a sound.

"Fat Master will trade five brand new Type 92 heavy machine guns for five Maxim machine guns from the Eighth Route Army." The fat man's small eyes darted around, thinking of some devious plan.

The Japanese Type 92 heavy machine gun, known as "wild chicken neck," was about as heavy as the water-cooled Maxim. The air-cooled "wild chicken neck" couldn't be replaced, and once it overheated, it would soon be scrapped.

In high-intensity combat, the Maxim could be replaced with both a barrel and water. When the Maxim overheated, if water wasn't available nearby, soldiers would urinate into the water tank to continue firing. The Maxim, with a 300-round belt, had much better sustained firepower than the 30-round clip-fed "wild chicken neck."

Moreover, the "wild chicken neck" was more complex to maintain, while the Maxim was robust and simple, and could use the same ammunition as rifles, reducing the number of ammunition types and easing logistical pressure.

"Deal." The political commissar, not very familiar with heavy machine guns, thought they were all the same. A trade of new for old seemed fair, but he didn't realize he had fallen into the fat man's trap.

Even if it were ten "wild chicken necks" for five Maxims, the fat man would agree. The Japanese light and heavy machine guns were a tragedy.

The fat man needed sustained firepower for his own plans.

Damn it, the puppet army commander Wu actually dared to flirt with the beauty, causing the tiger to lead his brothers to beat up the Japanese, creating this disaster. If he didn't make the traitor and collaborator Commander Wu suffer a big loss, the fat man would feel uneasy.

---

---

**AD begins**

**AD ends**