Chapter 327: The God of Killing

“Crack!” Just as he had guessed, there were French soldiers in this building. It seemed this French unit was trying to surround the German sniper team and trap them upstairs. Just as Rein had poked half his head around the corner of the stairs on the second floor, a bullet had hit the wall he was using for cover, kicking up a shower of dust.

“Germans?” Rein shouted loudly in German to confirm the other’s identity. After waiting for a while and getting no answer, he sighed, took out a hand grenade from behind him, and, without a second thought, pulled the pin and threw it.

The other side clearly had not expected such a desperado to appear, who dared to throw a hand grenade in such a narrow place. After all, this building had already half-collapsed. It would be difficult to say that a hand grenade could bring it down, but it was very possible that the explosion could shake a section of the ceiling down and kill you. So the French army had been attacking for a long time but had never used hand grenades.

This one hand grenade thrown by Rein blew up all the dust on the second floor. The blast wave, carrying debris and shrapnel, flew in all directions, blowing out all the windows on the remaining half of the second floor.

In the distance, the French company commander was leading his men, struggling to advance through the rubble. But he suddenly saw an explosion in the red building. Grey smoke poured out of the windows. He immediately knew that something had happened over there.

“Quick! Speed up! We have seven soldiers there! We can’t let the Germans get the upper hand!” the French company commander commanded loudly, and then ran, bent over, with his troops.

It was also due to the fact that the battle an hour ago had been too intense, causing this French infantry company to use up all the shells for its only mortar. Otherwise, there would be no need for such a troublesome attack here. The problem could have been solved with two mortar shells.

It was clear that the German reinforcements had begun their attack, and they had already broken through the light machine gun nest downstairs. Otherwise, the battle would not be taking place inside the building. The sound of this explosion had clearly proven that the other side had already charged into the building and was carrying weapons like hand grenades, which German snipers would not normally carry.

In the building on the other side, Rein and Alice, under the cover of the explosion, had quickly rushed into the room where the French soldiers were stationed. They fired a full magazine of bullets at the French soldiers, who had been dazed by the hand grenade. By the time everything had returned to calm, Rein found the bodies of four French soldiers on the floor. The foot of one of them was still twitching.

Rein led Alice and continued up to the third floor. At the turn of the stairs, he happened to meet a German soldier with a sniper rifle. Behind him, another German soldier was holding a G43 rifle without a scope, who should have been this sniper’s cover.

“Let’s go!” Rein said, pulling Alice and quickly heading downstairs. The two soldiers of the German sniper team also followed behind Rein and hurried down the stairs. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the half-empty building.

And on the other side, the French soldiers had also entered the building, covering each other. Just below Rein’s feet, they were charging up the stairs with their guns at the ready. Rein suddenly heard that the sound of footsteps was obviously a bit chaotic, and the number was also a bit too large. He subconsciously stopped in his tracks, and sure enough, he heard the sound of people coming up from the first floor.

He held his assault rifle and stared at the turn of the stairs. Two French infantrymen with rifles suddenly appeared there, charging up. The other side was clearly taken aback when they saw Rein, but Rein pulled the trigger without a second thought.

“Rat-tat! Rat-tat!” The MP-44 did not jam in the slightest, and the bullets sprayed out. The two French soldiers were hit in the chest and immediately fell backward. Rein took two steps back and happened to lean against Alice. He immediately commanded loudly, “Retreat upstairs! Quick!”

Soon, a rifle was extended from around the corner of the stairs, and a bullet was fired with a crack. The bullet hit the wall next to Rein, kicking up a shower of dust. Rein immediately aimed at the rifle that was sticking out and continued to fire fiercely.

“Rat-tat! Rat-tat!” The bullets fired by Rein kicked up a cloud of smoke at the corner of the staircase, and the rifle was also scared and pulled back. Rein began to miss the assault rifle from the Panther tank, because due to the internal space, the Panther was equipped with a special drum magazine, while the Tiger, because its space was slightly smaller than the Panther’s, was only equipped with a 32-round box magazine.

Rein, having run out of bullets, did not hesitate. He immediately dropped the empty magazine and then pulled a new magazine from his pocket and inserted it into the gun. Then his left hand, which had just inserted the magazine, did not pull back, but as if by magic, he produced his beautiful military dagger.

Because of the pause in the firing, it seemed that the French soldiers thought Rein was out of bullets. Immediately, two French soldiers charged out. Rein did not hesitate. With a flick of his left hand, the throwing knife flew and directly hit one of the unlucky French soldiers who had just charged out.

Rein knew that it was too late to retreat, so he frowned and immediately bent over and charged down the stairs. He was not afraid that he would fall due to the instability of his center of gravity, because there were already several French bodies below. In the process of charging forward, Rein squeezed the trigger of his assault rifle, and the bullets, as if they had eyes, flew straight into the bodies of the two French soldiers.

In a flash of lightning, Rein had already killed five French soldiers. This was already the limit of what a single soldier could do. After all, the anti-Japanese heroes in the movies who flew around on wires and could not be killed no matter how many times they were shot did not exist in reality. After all, the soldier kings in the novels who had a body of muscle and could fight two hundred people without changing their expression or panting for breath were just fiction.

Rein crashed straight into the two bodies that had not yet fallen, and then fell heavily to the ground. Fortunately, there were also three bodies there, but it still hurt him badly, because his ribs had hit the stock of a rifle, as if he had been punched hard by a big man.

Enduring the fiery pain under his ribs, Rein’s hands were not idle. He pulled the trigger fiercely in the direction from which the French were charging. The bullets poured out of the muzzle of his assault rifle, cutting down the several French soldiers who were hiding behind the corner, waiting to go upstairs.

“Crack!” A French soldier squeezed the trigger, a shot that hit the corpse next to Rein’s neck. The blood immediately spattered on Rein’s face. But the bullets fired by Rein were clearly much more accurate. At almost the same time, they had hit the French soldier’s head.

“Crack!” The French company commander, who was hiding in the crowd, was not idle either. He had missed Rein with a shot from his rifle. He immediately dropped the long gun and drew the officer’s revolver from his waist. He was a veteran, and he knew very well that in such a narrow environment, a revolver that could fire continuously was much more useful than a single-shot rifle.

Rein had run out of bullets in his assault rifle. Without the slightest hesitation, he also immediately drew the P-38 pistol used for a commander’s self-defense from its holster and aimed it at the French company commander in front of him. The two men fired at almost the same time. The French captain’s shot hit Rein’s shoulder. Rein’s hand twitched, and he shot the French company commander’s pistol out of his hand.

His left shoulder was hit by a bullet. Rein gritted his teeth. With one hand covering his wound and the other aiming his pistol at another French soldier who had missed his shot and was now working the bolt of his rifle, he fired a shot that shattered his head. He then fired another shot, and then aimed at another target.

At this time, the French company commander, holding his hand, drew the bayonet from his waist and prepared to pounce on Rein. Rein shot down the second target and then fired continuously, killing the last standing French soldier. And at this time, the French company commander, holding his bayonet in a reverse grip, also leaped up and pounced on Rein, who was holding an empty pistol.

Rein threw down his pistol, grabbed the military dagger that was stuck in the French soldier’s corpse, and stabbed upwards at the French company commander’s neck. The French company commander was not polite either. He leaped forward, his bayonet aimed at Rein’s heart.

Of course, Rein did not want to trade his life for another. He desperately blocked with his injured left hand. The French company commander’s bayonet cut through Rein’s arm and passed under his armpit. But because the French captain had changed his position in the process of falling, Rein’s dagger had not hit his neck but had only cut his ear.

The tragic combat situation had long since scared the wits out of Alice, who was behind him. The chaotic scene of Rein, like a god of killing with red eyes, fighting a dozen or so French soldiers alone had made her lose even the courage to let out a scream.

So this was how cruel the battlefield was. So this was the real life-and-death struggle. So these were the people Rein had spoken of, who were trying everything they could to stay alive. They might be polite in other situations, might be learned professors, might be humble scholars—but here, they were all transformed into vengeful ghosts, into humble lives fighting desperately to stay alive.

“Crack!” The sniper, holding his rifle, finally squeezed the trigger. He had also been stunned by the desperate and tragic battle before him, but as a seasoned veteran, he was the first to react and to do what he should have done. He aimed and pulled the trigger, a shot that shattered the back of the French company commander’s head.

The brains splattered, splashing on Rein’s face. The still-warm red liquid flowed into Rein’s mouth. He gasped for breath, pushed away the tall French company commander’s body, and then lay back, his eyes staring at the motionless Alice, not speaking for a long time.

“Are you… alright?” the sniper asked, walking to Rein’s side, his voice filled with admiration.

“I won’t die! A shoulder wound, a cut on the arm… If the bleeding is stopped in time, I’ll be fine in a few days,” Rein replied, still staring at Alice. The unique smile appeared on his lips again, which looked very nice on his face, which was covered with light freckles. “Help me pull out the bayonet, will you?”

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