Chapter 80 Large-caliber firepower is the key!
Unexpectedly, this look revealed a pleasant surprise.
The potatoes and soybeans that were planted earlier have already sprouted tender green shoots.
He carefully cut the potatoes into small pieces.
Two more rows were planted in the space.
He then immersed his consciousness into the still storage space.
They started rummaging through the miscellaneous items they had previously acquired from the foreign firm.
After searching for quite a while,
Although no other seeds were found
But unexpectedly, they found a huge pile of raw peanuts.
Therefore, within the ecological space,
Half an acre of lush green peanut seedlings appeared out of nowhere.
Just exited consciousness from the space,
The virtual panel in front of him was visible only to him.
Suddenly, it started flashing red light wildly.
This startled him—had an alarm been triggered?
He quickly focused his attention and carefully examined the panel.
I carefully scanned each piece of information from top to bottom.
Until my eyes fell on the taskbar,
Only then did I finally understand where the problem lay.
[Urgent Mission: The Temple of Heaven's Divine Music Bureau and the 1855th Regiment of the Little Days unit must assemble and withdraw tonight. Annihilating more than 90% of them will complete the mission.]
Failure penalty: Randomly lose one space, randomly forget one of the host's skills.
Countdown: 4 hours
This task information,
The panel was flashing a blinding red light, which was alarming.
He Yuzhu was completely stunned.
What's going on?
There are even mandatory missions with such severe punishments.
He instinctively opened his mouth.
He muttered a vulgar curse under his breath.
Criticism is one thing,
He still habitually took out his pocket watch and glanced at the time.
The hands pointed exactly to 8 p.m.
Looks like I'll be working through the night again tonight.
He didn't rush out immediately.
The families outside are still awake.
Making too much noise would easily expose their whereabouts.
Furthermore, he knew nothing about the so-called "Unit 1855".
However, since the system has marked it as an "urgent task,"
That opponent is definitely not someone who is easy to deal with.
He began to organize his equipment methodically in his personal storage space.
The mission description clearly states that it involves "military forces".
He can't just rush in with a pistol and "biubiubiu" to end the fight.
The six mortars in the corner of the space
The gun body is clearly marked with the model number "GrW34".
He Yuzhu, who had undergone intensive training in his sleep,
It's hilarious at first glance—this is a large-caliber weapon.
To deal with troops in this state of massing,
Large-caliber firepower is the key!
He carefully counted the number of shells again; there were exactly sixty, not a single one missing. Only then did He Yuzhu feel a little relieved.
He took out a mortar from his personal storage space and, by the dim light of the oil lamp, began to meticulously clean and adjust it.
A thorough inspection and maintenance of equipment must be carried out before battle, leaving no room for perfunctory or careless work. This is an ironclad rule learned on the battlefield with bloodshed.
All six mortars have been inspected and confirmed to be in excellent condition, with every component intact and ready for combat at any time.
He then took each shell out individually and carefully inspected it, confirming that there were no problems with the fuse or the shell body.
He glanced down at his pocket watch; it was already 9:25 p.m. without him realizing it.
He gently pulled open a small crack in the curtains and cautiously peered outside to observe the situation.
Both the Jia family's and their own homes had long since turned off their lights, and the entire courtyard was shrouded in a deep, deathly silence.
He gently pushed open the door again and peeked out to look at the Yi family next door. The Yi family's house was also pitch black, without any light or movement.
He turned and went back inside, blowing out the small oil lamp on the table so quietly that it made almost no sound.
Like a nimble night cat, he slipped out of the courtyard gate silently, his figure quickly disappearing into the thick darkness.
He navigated the familiar routes from memory with ease, passing through one quiet, secluded alley after another.
Just as he was about to release the bicycle from his spatial storage, he suddenly remembered something—the Temple of Heaven seemed to be quite far away from here.
He made a quick decision and immediately pulled out a set of Japanese military uniforms from his storage space and put them on.
He simply and cleanly cut off a section of the overly long sleeves and trouser legs with his bayonet, making them fit much better.
He then took out the women's bicycle without a crossbar and rode onto the wide main road.
He cautiously observed his surroundings, and after confirming that no one was around, he put the bicycle back into his spatial storage.
Immediately afterwards, he released the military two-wheeled motorcycle and slammed on the start lever.
"Put-put-put-put-put—" A deep and powerful roar sounded, and the engine started successfully in an instant.
He skillfully gripped the clutch lever, engaged first gear, and then leaped onto the seat.
There was no way around it; he was just too short for his age. Riding on that imposing motorcycle, he looked like a monkey struggling to walk on stilts.
The biting wind howled through the gaps in the curtains at the back of my neck, stinging my face like a knife.
Braving the biting wind, he could only squint his eyes and struggle to drive the motorcycle forward.
Even so, the icy tears still flowed uncontrollably down his cheeks.
The fake police officers, nicknamed "black-skinned dogs," that we occasionally encountered on the street didn't even dare to approach and question us.
People who saw his attire and mount from afar would voluntarily move aside, afraid of provoking someone they shouldn't have.
Military motorcycles of this caliber are simply not something ordinary people can afford.
In addition, his imposing Japanese military uniform deterred even the passing Japanese patrol from daring to stop him.
Half an hour later, He Yuzhu successfully arrived at a location about one kilometer away from the Temple of Heaven.
He decisively turned off the engine, got off the motorcycle, put it back in his storage compartment, and switched back to the bicycle.
Continue moving stealthily toward the target location.
The closer he got to the target area, the more he could feel the increasing density of the patrol forces.
There were sentry posts everywhere, and the security was tight, making it almost impossible to find a gap to pass through easily.
Left with no other option, he had to pack up his bicycle early and sneak in on foot instead.
He hunched over, trying to keep his body low and stealthily make his way forward.
Within a 500-meter radius, the entire area within sight was filled with layers of sentry posts laid out by the Japanese, making it impossible to pass through from the front.
The target location was brightly lit at the moment, and from a distance, one could see many figures, indicating a bustling scene.
Because of the great distance, He Yuzhu could not see the specific details.
He reached into his personal storage space and rummaged around for a while, and actually found an old-fashioned monocular telescope.
This item looks like a collector's item. Although it's not exactly brand new, the lens is perfectly preserved without a single scratch.
He raised his hand, held up the binoculars, and examined them closely for a long time, finally letting out a very soft click of his tongue in admiration.
Thirty or forty military trucks were lined up neatly in a row, and a team of soldiers were deftly carrying sealed wooden crates into the truck beds.
As he slowly rotated the telescope, his gaze sweeping across the edge of the camp, his pupils suddenly contracted sharply.
To his astonishment, he saw a group of people dressed in white coats assembling in an orderly fashion not far away.
His heart sank instantly—could this be Unit 1855? Or another evil unit codenamed with numbers?
The scene before him instantly reminded him of that infamous bacteriological warfare unit whose hands were stained with the blood of innocent people.
He clenched his teeth and forcefully suppressed the raging anger surging within him.
Only after he had thoroughly understood and memorized all the circumstances within the observation point did he quietly withdraw from his hiding place.
He quickly mounted his bicycle, pushed off with his feet, and sped away from this dangerous area fraught with peril.
His mind was racing, replaying every step of the way they had taken, carefully considering where the best firing positions for setting up mortars would be.
He actually found a perfect location—a grand and imposing mansion.
This location is approximately two kilometers from the intended target, precisely within the effective range of the mortar.
However, he had no idea whether anyone lived in the house, let alone what kind of people lived there.
He took out his pocket watch and glanced at it quickly in the cool moonlight: 10:05 p.m.
With plenty of time to spare, he pedaled furiously, propelling the bicycle forward like an arrow released from a bow.
Upon arriving at his destination, he checked his watch again: it was exactly 10:30 p.m.
He crept quietly towards the house in the dark, deftly set up a ladder, and leaped over the wall to enter.
He Yuzhu cautiously wandered around the courtyard, but didn't find a single person, which surprised him.
But when his gaze swept over the rooms filled with chests and sacks, he suddenly realized something.
This is no ordinary house; it's clearly a secret treasure trove hidden away by someone.
He casually lifted a few boxes to take a closer look, and found that they were mostly filled with neatly stacked, shiny silver dollars.
Interspersed among the silver dollars were several old, yellowed scrolls of calligraphy and paintings, their considerable value immediately apparent.
He Yuzhu was too lazy to carefully distinguish the authenticity of the calligraphy and paintings. Regardless of whose property they were, he simply accepted them all into his space.
After looting all the valuables within his sight, he estimated that his spoils were already quite substantial.
He then turned around and went to the largest courtyard of the house, where he lined up the six mortars and set them up steadily.
He carefully calibrated the firing angles of each cannon to ensure that each cannon could accurately cover the target area.
Logically speaking, calibration should be an extremely difficult task when separated by such a great distance and without being able to directly see the target.
But the layout of Beijing is so square and orderly, with even the streets and alleys built in a straight line, that it is very easy to determine the direction.
He remembered the route he took clearly and had roughly estimated the distance between each other along the way.