C478 Crazy Japanese samurai (1/2)
Taro Shimadzu's violent attack was something that no one expected. His comrade who had controlled the Ryukyu's officials turned into a murderous demon in the blink of an eye. His attacks were merciless.
Even though the French soldiers were all veterans, they were after all soldiers from the era of hot weapons. They only had a set of woolen military uniform on them, so their defense towards Katana s was basically zero.
A one meter long Katana, having inherited Tang Dao's craftsmanship, was extremely sharp. It could even cut off half a shoulder with a slash of its blade.
As the enemy and my side were too close to each other, the long rifle simply could not get rid of them. Even if the French army could make one or two sudden stabs, the Japanese samurai's exquisite armour could still take off most of its strength, unless they were unlucky enough to get hurt in the slits of the armor. The remaining soldiers simply ignored the bayonet attacks.
What was even worse was that Molière's order to capture them alive, in order to prevent the flow of bullets from accidentally injuring the Ryukyu's officials, these soldiers did not even have bullets in their guns.
This was a one-sided massacre. No matter how advanced the firearms were, it was useless in such an environment. In such a narrow and dense environment, only cold weapons could display the greatest power.
”Why? Have I given you little, you lowly barbarian warriors? Why did you betray me! ” Molière was in so much pain that he was sweating profusely. The long Katana had pierced his thigh and the pain from the wound made him unable to move.
Even more painful was the doubt in his heart. He desperately tried to figure out what he had done wrong.
Taro Shimadzu held onto the costal deviation, and it flashed through the crowd like a ghost. He had been trained as a warrior since he was young, and without the Katana, he could still kill people.
”Go to hell, White Skin Ghost!” The sharp costal deviation pierced through the air like lightning, slicing through the soldier's throat.
Taro Shimadzu's demonic mask was now completely stained with blood, causing the terrifying atmosphere around him to become even more spirited and real.
There were no longer any obstacles in his way. Taking a step forward, he grabbed onto the sword hilt of the Katana that was nailed in his thigh.
”AHH!” ”Damn barbarians …” Molière saw the sharp blade spinning inside his muscles, and the intense pain almost made him faint.
”I am not a barbarian... ”Compared to what you have done, I can already be called a saint!” Taro Shimadzu gritted his teeth as he spoke in English, he then fiercely pulled out his wrist, and the Katana pulled out a blood arrow from Molière's flesh.
”AHH!” A painful scream came out, shaking all of the French Army present. Following that, the Katana unleashed its blade attack and the blade tip pressed tightly onto Molière's throat.
”Listen up, Frenchmen. You guys can compete with me in speed. Let's see if your bullets are faster or my knives are faster …” Just as he was speaking, a loud shout came from behind him, ”Sir, be careful!” Immediately after, one of the warriors dashed forward, and the blade light fiercely swept up.
Just as Taro Shimadzu was about to torture Molière with his Katana, the eyes of the two soldiers suddenly changed and they understood what was going on. The two soldiers then raised their bayonets and pierced towards the direction of the warrior's face.
As for Bruce himself, he took out a handgun from his waist as fast as lightning, his gaze locking onto Taro Shimadzu's temple.
Unfortunately, he had underestimated the warriors' training since childhood, close combat, and the chaotic environment they were fighting in. These were all compulsory lessons for Japanese samurai, so Bruce's every move could not escape the eyes of the Warriors.
”Kill!” With a loud roar, the sharp Katana cut off the wrists of the two soldiers. Before the rifle could pierce through them, they had already fallen to the ground.
With a dull thud, the revolver opened fire, and the bullet struck the armor on the chest of the warrior. With a dull thud, the bullet pierced through the chest of the warrior, causing blood to spurt out.
”Lord, be careful …” The injured warrior did not retreat but chose to advance instead. He spread out his limbs like a bear hug to block off all the angles of the bullet, and then pressed down towards Bruce step by step.
Pah pah pah … The crazy warrior tiger body shook three more times, but it did not retreat. He bellowed and rushed forward, but he actually managed to save the pale General Bruce.
”Madman... ”You lunatic, let go of me …” The demon's blood-stained mask was so close to his face that it almost kissed it. The pungent smell of blood made the back of Bruce's waist ache.
”Scram …” Bruce pulled the trigger with all his might, causing all the bullets in the gun to be emptied. However, the Ghostly Fighter still held onto him tightly, but the demon's face was covered with blood.
This scene was too scary. Not only was Bruce scared, the surrounding French soldiers s were also scared, they suddenly felt that the tribe warriors in Black Africa, who were covered in dye, were as childish as a three-year-old compared to this group of Japanese samurai s.
On the cold metal armor, there were traces of swords and spears. The demonic red eyes were rolling around and blood was still coming out from its sharp mouth. This wasn't a human.