The old heavy machine gun, which had been unused for more than 80 years, was shining in Li Jing's hands. After a round of strafing, all of the enemies had been shot to the ground and died miserably.
Li Jing had originally seen the masked man hit Zhao Yu to the ground and had aimed at him. The masked man had been surprisingly alert and had immediately urn up the stairs and into the small door above.
"Whoa." After the gun had finished firing, Xiao Hang couldn't help but exclaim and clap. "The Japanese weapon is awesome. After so many years, it can still work. If we had known this we wouldn't have been beaten to absolute inferiority."
"Enough." Li Jing urged. She looked terribly pale. "How is Zhao Yu?"
Xiao Hang ran to Zhao Yu and turned him over. "Zhao Yu, how do you feel? Are you ok?" he asked.