Chapter 101: Bayonets Drawn

Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, Elena appeared from the side. "Mr. Commander, my report is finished. May I use your telegraph tonight to send it to our newspaper in Beijing? Would you like to review it first?"

Elena handed over the manuscript, and Lopatkin smiled. "No need. I have always respected the freedom of the press. Even if you were to criticize me in your paper, I wouldn't mind."

Elena, knowing the Russian general was referring to the Englishman, wore a helpless expression. "I wouldn't do that. In my eyes, you and your men are heroes for daring to fight such vicious bandits. To be honest, I am not entirely satisfied with this draft. So far, we have only been reporting on the Russian army. You know, news needs novelty to catch the eye. I truly hope you can capture a bandit so I can learn what they have been doing lately."

Lopatkin nodded. "Leave it be. I believe your wish will be fulfilled before long."

The words had barely left his lips when a gunshot rang out from the front, followed by a sudden barrage of fire.

Before Lopatkin could ask, a Russian signalman ran over at full speed. "General! The Qing vanguard has encountered a group of bandits directly ahead. A firefight has broken out, and General Akberlier has already sent reinforcements!"

Lopatkin hurriedly asked, "How many bandits are there?"

"About three or four hundred! The encounter was too sudden; the exact situation is still being tallied."

Lopatkin shook his head. "Very well, son, you may go. Miss Elena, if you are sending your report tonight, you will soon have a subject that will satisfy you."

There was no need for him to say more. The hill Yang Xiaotou had chosen was not far away, and Elena could see the smoke and fire rising, the sound of gunfire becoming increasingly clear.

The British reporter, lacking any sense of tact, stepped forward. "Mr. Commander, judging by the gunfire, it seems the bandits are attacking, aren't they?"

Lopatkin glared at him. It was true—the gunfire indicated the Qing troops were clearly retreating—but did he have to say it out loud?

He snorted coldly. "I believe it would be more accurate to say that the bandits are attempting to break through the encirclement but have been blocked by the Qing forces. Everyone knows the combat effectiveness of the Qing troops; they only need to fulfill their task of delaying the bandits. Once our Russian boys get up there, those bandits will surely be annihilated to the last man!"

The British reporter smiled. "May I go to the front to see?"

Lopatkin had intended to refuse, but Elena chimed in, "That is a good idea, Commander. Could you allow us to go a little further forward?"

Lopatkin hesitated. "Then... very well! But you must stay behind me. I do not want you to come to any harm."

However, the situation on the battlefield was not as Lopatkin described.

Akberlier was not Lopatkin; he held this group from Gulu Mountain in high regard. Upon realizing they numbered three or four hundred, he did not hesitate to commit a force of five hundred Russian soldiers.

His plan was to use this unit to pin down the bandits so they could not escape, while simultaneously gathering more troops in the vicinity.

The last time at Gaojia Tun, he had lined his men up in formation, only to have that "Yang the Devil" charge straight through them. This made Akberlier realize that concentrating absolute superiority in numbers and launching a decisive battle of annihilation was the only correct approach.

But what he did not expect was that his assessment of Gulu Mountain was based on information from several months ago. In these past few months, the unit had undergone a complete transformation!

When the five hundred Russian soldiers pressed forward, Yang Xiaotou did not retreat at all. Abandoning the now-shattered Qing soldiers, he fixed his bayonet and charged into the fray! He knew that the more fiercely he fought—and the more it looked like a desperate attempt to break out—the more the Russians would believe he was fighting for his life.

The shouting on the battlefield was incessant, and the Russian soldiers were truly panicked! They had advanced in formation, prepared to engage in traditional volley fire and test their marksmanship against the bandits. Instead, the bandits ignored the rules of the game entirely, charging forward under the cover of smoke from a volley of grenades!

Although dozens of the leading bandits were killed, before the Russians could fire a second shot, the bandits’ bayonets were already at their chests!

"Kill!"

Sui Bing let out a roar, and before the Russian soldier in front of him could even fix his bayonet, he was pinned to the ground by a single thrust.

Following the Japanese training, one was not supposed to thrust too deeply; if hitting the center of the chest, three inches was enough before immediately withdrawing. They could all do it during training, but when facing real enemies, many of the bandits instinctively used all their strength on that first strike!

The bayonets often passed clear through the body, only to be lodged in the opponent's bone, refusing to budge no matter how hard they pulled! Fortunately, the Russians had little experience with bayonet fighting; they hadn't practiced it in years. The bandits who couldn't pull their blades out subconsciously twisted them inside the body. From their perspective, it wasn't out of cruelty, but simply an attempt to free their weapons. But to the Russians, the action took on a sinister meaning!

The gleaming bayonets entered, and when pulled out, they were dyed crimson, blood dripping from the tips. The internal organs of some Russians were dragged out with the blades, and those not yet dead lay on the ground, wailing in a way that chilled the soul.

However, if you were truly on the battlefield and it wasn't your first time killing, you would find that you didn't feel horror. On the contrary, the thick scent of blood and the miserable screams only stimulated a certain nerve in your brain, leaving you feeling exhilarated, suppressed—a kind of thrilling suppression!

There was only one way to release this pressure: to scream, louder than anyone else!

"Kill!"

"Charge!"

The bandits howled to their hearts' content, thrusting their bayonets repeatedly. This ferocity and brutality fueled the fear in the hearts of the Russian soldiers, but it also ignited their rage. Fear born of rage can make a man lose his senses; the Russian soldiers behind stopped firing, fixed the bayonets at their waists, and charged into the melee!

The sound of blades piercing flesh became the main melody of the battle, with the occasional gunshot and explosion acting as mere accompaniment. General Akberlier watched in shock! He quickly realized that he had once again underestimated his opponent!