Chapter 6

"Damn it, running faster than a rabbit, I'm exhausted..."

After a series of intense battles, the fat man was already out of energy. He hadn't taken a few steps before he was panting heavily. Just as he was feeling helpless, he suddenly heard a series of gunshots. The fleeing puppet troops fell in droves. The fat man quickly threw himself to the ground to avoid the stray bullets. The gunshots came from behind him. Turning his head, he saw a group of about ten people firing at the puppet troops.

The person running at the front was the Nationalist army officer who had knocked the fat man unconscious earlier. He was holding a Czech machine gun, firing as he ran, with excellent marksmanship. The slower puppet troops were all taken down by him.

"A Battalion Commander, don't chase the defeated enemy, to prevent a desperate counterattack!" A man in Eighth Route Army uniform, with a pistol at his waist, took a Type 38 rifle from the fat man, raised it, and fired. His marksmanship was also good, taking down a puppet soldier with one shot. He then shouted to the Nationalist battalion commander who was leading the charge.

"Brothers of the Nationalist army, follow my order, chase them to the death, kill all these traitors!" Battalion Commander Zhang shouted back, ignoring the Eighth Route Army's advice. He continued to lead several Nationalist soldiers in pursuit of the fleeing puppet troops.

The Eighth Route Army man shook his head with a bitter smile, about to speak to the fat man, but was suddenly surprised. The fat man had gotten up without his notice, pulled off the pants of a dead puppet soldier, and put them on. Then he started searching the dead Japanese soldiers.

"Little brother, what's your surname?" The Eighth Route Army man smiled warmly, looking at the fat man with bright eyes, as if he had found a treasure.

The fat man continued to search the Japanese bodies, ignoring him. Finally, he found a water bottle and some dry rations, and sat down to eat and drink.

The Eighth Route Army man felt embarrassed. The guard beside him scolded the fat man, "How can you be so impolite? This is our Independent Regiment Commander Ma. Even the division commander would show respect to him. What are you, not even responding?"

The fat man continued to ignore him, eating and drinking.

"Xiao Li, why are you so impolite? Can't you see that the regiment commander is trying to talk to this little brother? Go, go and pass my order, have the soldiers clean up the battlefield, don't leave anything behind. These are all Type 38 rifles!" Commander Ma turned and glared at his guard, scolding him.

"Commander..." Xiao Li felt wronged. The fat man was cold to Commander Ma, and he was reprimanded for standing up for him. Who did he offend?

"Get lost, or I'll transfer you back to the Third Regiment!" Commander Zhang glared at Xiao Li.

Xiao Li's face stiffened, full of resentment, and he went to pass the order.

"Hehe." Commander Ma squatted beside the fat man, trying to make conversation, "Little brother, your marksmanship is good. Who taught you?"

The fat man raised his head to drink, continuing to ignore him.

"Little brother, why don't you join our anti-Japanese forces, the Eighth Route Army?" Commander Ma, with a thick face, persisted.

The fat man's headshots, the way he set up landmines, how he shot at 600 meters, and 500 meters... Commander Ma, though not the first to arrive at the scene, deduced from the positions of the Japanese and puppet soldiers' bodies that the fat man was a genius in close combat.

He, Old Ma, was determined to get this man. With the fat man's abilities, making him a regiment commander would not be an exaggeration. He had to be recruited; the fat man was born for the battlefield.

"No!" The fat man answered firmly after drinking.

"Why?" Commander Ma was taken aback.

"What do you eat in the Eighth Route Army? No lazy mornings, no sleeping in, and even dating needs approval from the organization. I'm already tired of such a regiment!" The fat man had long detested the military. He had received many punishments for drills, guard duty, and dating. If it weren't for his repeated merits in the special forces, he would have been kicked out of the military long ago.

"Cough, cough..." Commander Ma, of course, knew what the Eighth Route Army ate. To recruit this genius in close combat, he decided to lie, "Don't worry, you won't have to do drills or guard duty. As long as you join us, you'll have meat every meal. But what do you mean by 'tired of dating'?"

"Too lazy to explain." The fat man couldn't explain "dating" and stood up, walking to the side. The Nationalist army was his first choice. "Dating" in the Eighth Route Army could be considered as harassing women or improper relations, both leading to death.

"Too tired of it" was even harder to explain.

"Little brother, think about it again?" Commander Ma, with a thick face, followed closely, not giving up.

"No!" The fat man moved his buttocks, waiting for the Nationalist army.

"Little brother, if you join, you'll be a battalion commander. How about that?" Commander Ma, with a determined look, followed, smiling.

"Not interested!" The fat man moved his buttocks again, keeping his distance from the Eighth Route Army.

"Hey, don't be ungrateful. I'm a regiment commander. Do you want to be a regiment commander too?" Commander Ma, laughing, followed again.

"Ha, regiment commander is too small. Make me a division commander, then we'll talk." The fat man stood up, patted his buttocks, and quickly moved away to keep his distance from Commander Ma.

"Division commander..." Commander Ma was at a loss. This fat man was stubborn, not swayed by high rank and wealth. Perhaps... Commander Ma slapped his thigh, as if he had an idea. He looked at the fat man's pudgy face with bright eyes, nodding mysteriously, making the fat man puzzled.

"Little brother, wait for me, wait for me to come back!" Commander Ma ran into the depths of the forest, his figure soon disappearing.

"Crazy!" The fat man sneered, then began searching the puppet soldiers' bodies for 98K rifle ammunition. Unfortunately, he couldn't find any 98K ammunition on the entire battlefield. It seemed he couldn't replenish his 98K sniper bullets. He only collected 20 rounds and Type 38 rifle bullets, along with some Japanese hand grenades.

He wasn't greedy, as carrying too many bullets and grenades would be too heavy, and with his poor stamina, it would be a burden.

One hundred Type 38 rifle bullets, one hundred 20-round bullets, thirty 98K sniper bullets, and five hand grenades. He also took a fat Japanese soldier's ammunition belt, putting everything inside. After finishing, he leaned against a tree, sat on the ground, and lit a cigarette, watching the Eighth Route Army soldiers clean up the battlefield.

"If you don't want to die, give me back my 98K!" The fat man, with his eyes closed, leisurely smoked, when a cold voice suddenly spoke beside him. The fat man opened his eyes to see Battalion Commander Zhang, who had knocked him unconscious earlier, holding a Czech machine gun, its black muzzle pointing at his forehead.

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