Soldiers and rascals

  Just as Yidun was furious and vomiting blood in the wilderness, Stron's plane arrived at Tokyo, Japan. Holding a fake passport, to be honest, Stron was still a bit nervous, after all, during previous missions, they had always secretly infiltrated, launched a surprise attack and then immediately retreated, where had they ever had such an experience of openly entering the country through customs?

  In comparison, the retreat route after the event was more familiar to these soldiers: through certain smuggling channels, they took a detour via South Korea, re-obtained legal passports and residence permits, and then joined a tour group to return directly to Europe. To avoid drawing attention, Strüngmann and his men came in three batches on three different airline flights.

  From the trunk of the luggage compartment, he pulled out his own canvas bag. Stronach led 15 subordinates off the plane in a line. Two flight attendants smiled at two handsome young men among them, and it wasn't until then that they realized what had happened between them.

  Schtroungen looked around, hailed a few taxis according to the address given by Yichun, and rushed to a secret warehouse in Shibuya, Tokyo, where they met with the Japanese.

  The Japanese had prepared two small trucks for them, detailed Tokyo maps, GPS locators and other items. The leader who received Stronach smiled and said: "This is a gift from our boss, welcome to Japan for the first time? Enjoy yourself, haha... These are your things, already loaded."

  Sternberg quietly checked all the items, asked his subordinates to leave quickly, then turned around and said: "Your English is really terrible... Maybe because I'm not British either, so I can barely understand what you mean. I truly hope you never go to Britain, otherwise the conservative Brits will throw you into the North Sea for ruining their language like this."

  A few Japanese people smiled awkwardly, and Stronach threw a stack of banknotes at them: "Anyway, your service is good, I appreciate the diligence and hard work of you Japanese." Stronach also had another sentence hidden in his heart: "Of course, you bunch of trash, as long as you can make money, you can transport arms into your own country."

  Yi Chen let out a sigh and downed a cup of strong tea, shaking his head as he said: "I finally understand why 'Mountain of Light' has never been taken away. That Arthur's strength is truly terrifying... Although it's not his true power, even now I'm not sure if I could escape from him unscathed."

  Fēi lì carefully observed his upper body until she was certain that Yì chén had no external injuries before feeling relieved.

  Jie Si excitedly pulled out his dragon-slaying dagger: "Boss, if we attack him together? Can we take him down?"

  "It's hard to say, really hard to say, dear Jester... none of us can withstand his full force attack... If I could enter the state of great chaos, maybe I could confront him head-on, but now... we have no chance of winning..."

  Phil and Goll looked at each other, hesitated for a moment, and asked: "Boss, what should we do? We promised the White Knights that we would get 'Mountain of Light'."

  "Ah, damn it, I know what he looks like now... Phil, look into this, who is this dear Arthur fellow? He should have a pretty good standing in the British aristocracy. Ask our Mr. David, he might know something. His power comes from that sword, I can feel it, he's being controlled by the sword, not the other way around, humph. His own strength is negligible, a single sniper bullet could take him down."

  Jester fell silent for a moment: "The vassals of King Arthur, the legendary Twelve Knights of the Round Table. I hope they didn't pass down any powers, or else we'll be dealing with more than just an Arthur."

  He was stunned, thinking for half a day: "That's right, we can't take risks. After all, how many hidden powers the British royal family has, we don't know. Hmm, in any case, using high-level snipers to get rid of him is a good choice. Phil, you find someone to go to Venice, find Vis, we entrust a task, call three or five high-level killers, specify them to use sniper rifles to take out Arthur... Of course, first need to investigate Arthur's background."

  Schtroumpf gathered three batches of fifty subordinates, each distributed weapons and prepared for action.

  Can't stay in Tokyo for long, the client provided details of the Yamaguchi-gumi's base in Tokyo, looks like they're very familiar with the situation. The best case scenario is to take out Yamaguchi within three days and then leave Japan immediately according to plan. Because Yamaguchi has a public identity as a member of some committee, if he dies, both the Japanese underworld and officialdom will be stirred up, at that time once sea and land transportation are blocked, no one will be able to leave.

  Schtroungen looked up at the sky and calculated carefully: "Tonight? Alright, let's settle this as soon as possible." He turned back to ask: "Brothers, how are your physical conditions?"

  A soldier stretched his arms lightly and nodded coolly: "No problem, Lieutenant Colonel, everything is ok. I think we can start discussing the attack route now."

  Sturmgren smiled satisfactorily: "That's good, I think you bunch of idiots won't be able to take it if you sit on a plane for a while... The boss has booked us business class after all, almost chartered a private jet, can't lose face. Hmm, come on, let's rehearse now." According to Sturmgren and his team's habits, the residence of Yamaguchi-gumi's leader, Yamaguchi Ki, was only set as a C+ level target, not very difficult to deal with, really nothing to worry about.

  Perhaps the amount of the commission was a bit outrageous, but as the client himself had said that due to certain vows he couldn't lay hands on Yamaguchi Motoharu, Stronheim could only say: "These strange oriental people, they should really wash their petrified brains... Why give us so much money for nothing?"

  In general, a special forces team of 51 people can easily take out three to five times as many regular soldiers in a surprise attack. It's impossible for Yamaguchi to have brought hundreds of bodyguards with him, right? Everyone involved in the plan thought that mobilizing 51 people was an overly cautious move on Eiji's part.

  Looking at the architectural drawing that was already familiar to him, Stronheim said helplessly: "Alright, another tactical discussion, hmm, how many times is this? Damn it, just a bunch of ordinary gangsters, why bother?" As a proud German elite, he really had no reason to take the Yamaguchi-gumi seriously.

  Night

  Chekhov finally showed a bit of conscience and slightly loosened the bandage on the strange man's neck, asking him in an unenthusiastic tone: "Do you need to use the restroom? Hmm, I hope you can still walk. But from what I've seen in Japanese period dramas, ninjas are supposed to be very tolerant of pain, right? So five or six days without using the restroom shouldn't be a big deal... Look, there's meat pie, raw fish slices, and purified water on the table, help yourself... I'll go out and find two fresh faces to bring over."

  The strange man, unable to contain his low, scolding voice, said: "Idiot, you brought so many women here, one of them spilled the beans, and you still don't know how you'll die. Bah, you..."

  Chekhov punched his belly, then sucked in cold air and pulled back his fist, desperately squeezing out a ferocious expression: "Damn it, Japanese monkey, I don't want you to teach me, do you understand? Those chicks? I gave them a lot of money, a huge amount of money... How could they tell others?"

  Chekhov flashed a strange smile: "Besides, they took too much of that psychedelic stuff and smoked too much weed... now I'm sure they're all out of their minds... Heh heh, what are you afraid of? Be good, just think of it as me saving a dog. Don't worry, I rarely have a kind heart, but once Chekhov has shown mercy, your life is guaranteed... Hmm, let's smoke a cigarette."

  Chekhov stuffed a large hemp plug into the stranger's mouth, and the stranger unconsciously took a few puffs, and in his daze, the wound seemed to hurt less.

  "Shh, remember what you said, you'll give me a lot of money... Now first give you enough weed to smoke, if you don't give me money afterwards, it's just retribution." Chikov didn't think that if this ninja gave him money, but he himself became an addict, wouldn't he be too cruel? However, in Chikov's mind, words like justice and morality were not related to his head.

  Wearing a pair of beach pants that hadn't been washed for months, with a short undershirt on top, and a pair of red and green slippers dangling below, he had a large wad of cash stuffed in his chest. He casually groped the buttocks of a passing waiter, chuckling to himself as he headed towards the elevator. What he was most proud of was that, thanks to the introduction of that male waiter, all the female waitresses on this floor had been to his bed, truly an unparalleled glorious achievement.

  Chekhov pulled the taxi driver for half a day, and the old man finally understood that he wanted to go to Shibuya Street to find a woman. The old man was so angry that he drove away immediately. Two taxis came over eagerly, Chekhov gave a middle finger to the departing taxi and scolded it fiercely. He got into the front seat of one of the taxis with a smile and said to the driver: "I'm here to play with Japanese girls, isn't it also helping your economy? Why was that old man so unfriendly?"

  "This middle-aged driver nodded and bowed, saying: 'Nowadays old people are too closed-minded and conservative... I also often go to Shibuya to find girls, sir, do you need me to introduce you to a few better places? There are high-end goods inside, of course the price is also..."

  Chekhov's lower body puffed out the tent, stuttering: "High-end goods? Of course, of course we have to go, hurry...hurry up and open...Oh God, Japan is indeed a paradise. I love you, beautiful Japanese women..."

  Schtrengel dialed a Tokyo metropolitan number: "Hello, is he there?"

  "In the banquet... hope you use heavy firepower to cover up... the tea pavilion in the backyard, the brown sign on the map. One hundred twenty-seven meters thirty-five centimeters from the outer wall." The phone hung up.

  Stronheim roughly fiddled with the assault rifle in his hand, waved it and said: "Brothers, let's get to work... Having a traitor is really good, really good."

  Two soldiers held a 40mm caliber mortar in their hands, gently stroking it. Stronheim repeated the data reported by that person again and asked: "Are you sure to hit with one shot?" The two soldiers nodded, confidently nodding.

  A truck, with four cars in front and back, rushed out of the apartment gate where Stronach and his party were staying. The entire apartment building was empty, with only 51 people from Stronach's group inside. It can be seen that this opposing force of the mountain pass group is very powerful, everything is well arranged, and there is nothing to pick on.

  Inside the teahouse, Yamaguchi Mokuzu held a sake cup and smiled as he admired the dance postures of several Kabuki actors by the pond. Five elderly men with distinct appearances sat beside him, including the Ryūjō from last time. Three other old men sat in a row with Yamaguchi Mokuzu, apparently the other three big shots from the Fūrinkazan's four families.

  Yamaguchi put down his wine cup, lightly applauding and praising: "Wonderful dance moves, young girls always make people feel happy... We're all old, if we don't take advantage of the few days of life left to do something well, our lives will be wasted."

  "Enough chit-chat, Shan Kou. Ah yes, you mentioned something last time, didn't you? Weren't you going to Europe or something? I'm actually quite interested in tearing that Pope's body apart... Hmph, I'd love to play with them a bit. Don't worry, the Jin Clan will definitely support you." He burst into loud laughter, downing his cup of wine in one gulp.

  The leaders of the other four tribes looked at each other in dismay, wondering what had gotten into Long Shang's head, and how he could so blatantly disregard the Five Elements Alliance's treaty by openly supporting Lin's proposal. The elderly man with rough patches on his face and hands, resembling tree bark, blinked his pale green eyes twice and said directly: "Shan Kou, since both you and Long Shang support him, did you give him some kind of benefit?"

  Long's face changed, and he hastily explained: "Who said that? I didn't get any benefits, none at all." The more he explained, the more suspicious the others from the four families became, their faces turning somewhat unsightly.

  The slender and soft-bodied old man with a sharp voice looked at the four big shots of Feng Lin Huo Shan, moved his body and said: "So, according to the rules, since our alliance has people who agree, I don't have anything good to say. If we vote now, we must also obey orders... Hmph, but if you want us to send someone to die, that's absolutely not allowed." He was very concise, knowing that since Long Shang had already been bought out, it was useless to refute, so he could only try his best to reduce the losses of his own family.

  Yamaguchi gave the patriarch of the Water clan a cold, hard stare and said calmly: "Don't worry, this matter will also be beneficial to our Japanese Empire. It's not that we, the Wind, Forest, Fire, and Mountain Yamaguchi group, intentionally used your power to fight for territory in Europe... Think about it, if we can use cheap cars to occupy the European market, and our powerful conglomerate controls those big families in Europe, then we will almost dominate Europe."

  The old man, shrouded in a layer of misty cloud, raised his wine cup: "What about the people from the Vatican and the Dark Council? They won't just watch us invade Europe, be careful they join hands, or we'll be done for... Before the Enlightenment, humph, those Western Christians almost destroyed all our sects, does everyone still remember? That time the Dark Council hadn't even taken action yet."

  Yamaguchi Ki looked at him with a bit of annoyance: "Kumada-kun, why are you saying this? Are you mocking the miserable defeat of my Yamaguchi group? I only sent four third-rate ninjas to follow Ichimon, and our true strength wasn't fully displayed... What about the Kyōto and Kurokiri groups? Weren't we being attacked by the Tonkōji and Gogyouji at that time? If it weren't for some people's ancestors stealing other people's scriptures, we might have been nearly exterminated by the Western Church due to our loss of power back then?"

  The wind in the Wind, Forest, Fire, and Mountain stood up: "Everyone, don't quarrel... Don't pursue those things that happened hundreds of years ago. Now our strength has grown greatly, and it's time to do something. I support Yamaguchi's plan. With Yamaguchi's group as cover, our main force will advance into Europe. Don't be afraid of the Onmyouji, their enthusiasm for hunting us down is not as high as it was hundreds of years ago. What can they do if we all go to Europe?"

  The mountain also stood up: "Yes, let's think about it, only when we unite as one can we prosper and develop. For the benefit of the empire, for the benefit of our chrysanthemum, for the honor of the emperor, we must mobilize all our strength."

  The wind suddenly emitted a wonderful bell sound, he frowned and took out a small mobile phone from his sleeve, walked to the outside of the pavilion in big strides, getting farther and farther away. Everyone heard him scolding someone non-stop: "Ba Ga, can't even do such a small thing well? Idiot..."

  Just as he walked out about thirty meters later, a muffled sound came from the outside of the surrounding wall, followed by a faint sonic boom coming from above his head.

  The Jin family's Long Shang stared at those big shots fleeing quickly, and the young man next to Shan Koumu pointed with his hand, and a black sword shot into the air. Long Shang thought for a moment, and actually followed that sword light and broke through the air, shouting: "Who dares to ambush us?"

  Yamaguchi Ki yelled: "Ryūjō-kun, you idiot, damn it..."

  A flash of flame passed by, the black sword tip shot back, and the young man seemed to be weightless as he stuck to it, flying towards the outside of the wall where the muffled sound came from. Shan Kou gave a low command: "Do not let ordinary civilians discover."

  Long Shang suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood in mid-air and fell to the ground like a dead pig, his body covered with dense small steel balls. His whole body shone with silver light as he roared: "The steel balls are poisonous, save me..."

  The eldest of the four families, Mu, quickly pounced on it, and his four palms struck the dragon's body. The steel balls were shaken out of its body. Mu shouted: "Shan Kou, hurry up and call an ambulance! It's coated with corrosive poison, our internal strength and magic are ineffective!"

  The young man had just flown to the vicinity of the wall, and several directional high-explosive bombs sent a five or six-meter wide section of the wall flying into the sky. The young man was unprepared, and together with his sword, he was blown away for over ten meters, rolling around on the ground in disarray.

  Yamaguchi was stunned for a moment, and a group of men in special combat uniforms, holding high-powered assault rifles, crouched down and rushed in with quick small steps. More than a dozen servants near the teahouse rushed up, and immediately had several transparent holes on their foreheads.

  Stron saw the mountain mouth wood at a glance, and the muzzle was slightly raised. A shot of gunfire was fired, and the young man rolled on the ground for a few times, roaring with anger, with black light flashing on his body, and his body rose with a sword, shining brightly. The bullet didn't explode, but was cut into hundreds of fragments in mid-air and fell to the ground.

  Schtreng's eyes widened for a moment before he bellowed out orders: "Concentrate your firepower and take that guy down!"

  The thirteen soldiers behind him immediately turned their guns and aimed at the young man. The large-caliber armor-piercing bullets swept out in a dense manner, causing the young man's body to tremble uncontrollably. He concentrated his spirit and wielded his sword, but whenever the sword tip came into contact with the bullets, his body would receive an enormous shock. The power of these modern weapons was not to be underestimated.

  In two other directions, another two combat teams also blasted open the walls and rushed in, with bullets and grenades flying everywhere, the entire backyard instantly turned into a sea of fire.

  Yamaguchi scowled, muttering under his breath: "Baka, idiot, can these people kill me?" He didn't care about the young man struggling in the hail of bullets and strode towards the large buildings in the garden, but he kept a safe distance from the other big shots, his spiritual power on high alert, and naturally didn't have time to call an ambulance.

  Like ghosts, over a hundred people dressed in ninja attire suddenly appeared in the yard. At the same time, from tree trunks, from the earth, from underwater, and even directly from the air, one by one, distorted human silhouettes emerged. Red, white, black, blue, and green lights flickered faintly on their bodies.

  The German soldiers stared blankly at this terrifying scene, where had they rushed into? A Hollywood special effects factory? Why did it become like this? Behind them, what was the noise behind them?

  The sword flashed, and these German special forces were beheaded without warning. The young man let out a loud roar, and a mouthful of blood sprayed onto the treasure sword. The black sword body surged with an eerie red glow, as if it had taken stimulants. The sword howled and stabbed out, and Stronheim shouted: "Retreat! Retreat!" A big somersault dodged the sword's edge, while the thirteen special forces behind him were stunned, almost simultaneously pierced through the heart and killed.

  Sturmgrim didn't look back, there was no point in looking back, all his teammates were dead, he had to run, even though running away was their greatest taboo, their greatest shame, he had to escape. He had to tell Cain, tell Yichen: "We were all wrong, they're not a gang, they're a group of monsters... They possess powers that ordinary people can't imagine... God, there really are devils in this world."

  Schtroumpf was not far from the gap in the wall, so he took long strides and cleared the wall in two steps. The black sword flashed twice, then suddenly retracted, but during the flash, Schtroumpf's back had already been slashed with two cuts over a foot long and an inch deep, and blood flowed out in streams.

  Young people looked at Stronheim rushing into a car, starting the car and speeding away. If it weren't for Yamaguchi strictly forbidding ordinary civilians from seeing these superhuman abilities, he would have caught up and killed Stronheim long ago. Shame, indeed shame, first being shocked by the bomb, then struggling in the rain of bullets, if not using a mouthful of essence to satisfy the demon sword's needs, letting it exert its true power, his own face would be lost, and the people of the Five Elements Alliance would definitely mock him mercilessly.

  Sturmbannführer stormed forward like a madman, two traffic cops who tried to intercept him were ruthlessly knocked aside. In his mind it was as if fire was burning: "Oh God, fifty brothers, not even three seconds past midnight, they're all done for... Oh God, it's all my fault, I should have been more careful, more cautious, I should have used gas grenades to get in... Oh heavens, God, please, please let me make it back, I'll tell the Obersturmbannführer that we can't use ordinary means against them... Oh God, just give me a little more time..."

  Schtroumpf's back muscles were convulsing wildly, the constricted wound slowing down the blood loss, but initially too much blood had flowed away, his vision was already starting to blur. The noise behind him was getting louder and louder, someone had already started calling for help, saying a drunk driver had gotten onto the street, asking the police station to send people over quickly...

  In an instant, Strasser's car had turned into a narrow alley and almost crashed into three men and women. Strasser barely managed to turn the steering wheel, and the car crashed into the wall of the alley and stalled.

  Chekhov was startled for half a day, and with one hand he pushed away the two chicks beside him. He slowly and cautiously approached this black Audi without a license plate. What's weird is that the combat uniform on Strudel's body is so damn familiar...

  "Damn it, isn't this the standard gear that Cain's gang of idiots wears when they're on a job? Has Cain come to Tokyo? Is he dead? Thank God, that fiend finally got his due...". These combat suits were all designed by Cain and his crew themselves, then made by reliable tailors; the entire design was one-of-a-kind in the world.

  Chekhov patted Stronheim's nose, his hand trembling slightly. He turned around and had already drawn Stronheim's pistol with a swift motion. The two women who were almost knocked dead stared blankly at Chekhov, their eyes wide with fear. Chekhov ruthlessly shot them one by one, muttering to himself: "Oh God, have I offended you? I was just casually asking after your well-being... damn it, I must have been too wicked in my past life. First, I saved a Japanese monkey, and now I'm saving a German bear... damn it, Cain, how can your subordinates be so pathetic?"

  It was easy to pull Stron out, Chekhov almost fell over, he gloomily pulled out a spray from the secret pocket on Stron's chest and sprayed it several times on his back. The strong adhesive biological agent stopped the bleeding. Having mixed with Cain for a long time, Chekhov knew more or less about their habits, where emergency medicines were placed, and there were certain rules, which happened to save Stron's life...

  "Good heavens, what am I to do with him? Oh Lord, give me strength... This man is too heavy, it's as if I've never seen such a weight before... Why should I be rescuing him? Why should I be looking for trouble? Goodness gracious, how am I going to get back to the hotel? What reason can I give? Oh Lord... Am I supposed to carry another woman upstairs now? It would be more reasonable if he carried me up... But I don't have that much strength either."

  In the midst of endless complaints and tense thoughts, Chekhov hastily started the car and cautiously drove in the direction of the hotel. He muttered to himself: "Oh God, please let money be almighty, I need the help of that servant... Please grant Satan power, make the magic of money stronger... Hope that servant can sell everything for money."