Chapter 884 Close Combat

Major Baker, who was called by the darkness, subconsciously turned around, but what seemed to be a bigger and bigger fist came towards him, and it hit him directly in the face in the blink of an eye.

boom--

"Well--"

It was a wonderful experience to have the whole person fly backwards instantly. The whole face was in great pain but the body was so ecstasy. The feeling cannot be described in words. Although the height is not particularly tall, it is still more than 1.7 meters. Major Baker, who is nearly 1.8 meters tall, has experienced this feeling for the first time in his life, which he should never have the chance to experience.

Sour, spicy, sweet, fishy, ​​salty

The whole taste was like that of Major Baker who opened a condiment shop and lay on his back. For a moment, he felt like the world was spinning and he couldn't even lift his head. However, at the same time, his right arm was driven by will and reached out to touch his waist. Guns in the room.

There were more than one figure hiding in the darkness. Major Baker, who was struggling to get up and pulling out his gun, did not notice that the figure that rushed out from under the bridge pier not far away had already raised the weapon in his hand.

Da da da da——

"ah--"

The old saying about fingers connecting to the heart is not unfounded. Major Baker, whose entire right arm was instantly smashed into pieces by the extremely fast-shooting Bobosha submachine gun, immediately let out a scream and howl that was not human-like. Yelling, two fingers on his right hand and the entire arm bone were beaten to pieces on the spot with blood splattering everywhere.

"Say goodbye to your right hand, Hitler's lackey!"

"Ah! Hand, my hand!"

The gunman who rushed out of the darkness didn't seem to understand mercy. His size 47 oversized winter military boots stepped on the wound on the broken finger that was broken by the bullet. He pressed his palm hard on the sole of his foot to crush the huge wound caused by the stampede. The pain is far beyond what ordinary people can understand.

In a flash of lightning, Major Baker, who was awakened by the severe pain, suddenly remembered that the veteran Fritz who was traveling with him was not far away.

With a strong hope in the corner of his eye, he quickly found the figure who was pinned with hope according to the impression in his memory. However, it didn't feel good to have this only hope crushed into powder in an instant.

"Humph, that's all you have? I thought these German guys were so powerful, but that's all."

I don't know when it happened.

Fritz, whose chest was stepped on by a big foot, had a sharp bayonet stuck in the center of his neck. The blade of the bayonet, which had not fully penetrated into his flesh, could exactly correspond to Major Baker's position under the faint moonlight. The angle of view reflects a chilling cold light.

Fritz, who was doomed to die soon, covered the wound on his neck with both hands. He seemed to be desperately trying to stop the flow of blood and pull out the bayonet that would kill him. However, the rapid loss of physical strength increased. Life force makes all this futile after all.

Under normal circumstances, it would be almost impossible for either Seryosha or Kirill to win in a one-on-one close combat with Fritz.

Both are veterans who have struggled to crawl out from the pile of dead people and the sea of ​​​​blood again and again. Fritz, who specializes in infantry, has close combat skills that far exceed those of Seryosha and Kirill. There is nothing strange about the fact that elites in tanks cannot defeat veterans who rely on flesh and blood to fight for their lives.

Rewinding the time to more than ten seconds ago, Seryosha was the first to rush out of the shadows. He raised his right leg with a big stride and kicked the MP40 submachine gun lying on the ground. His fingertips had already touched the cold gun body. Fritz lost his last hope just because of the inconspicuous detail of throwing his weapon aside in extreme panic.

Kirill, who had a clear division of labor, stepped out from another direction. With a little fear of not being able to live up to the trust of his comrade commander and the first time he killed someone with his own hands, Kirill relied on his reckless energy even though he was so nervous that his body was trembling. He hugged Fritz's body from behind, raised his hand and plunged the bayonet into his neck before the other party could react.

"There's no need to shoot again. This German guy will die in less than half a minute. This is the enemy you killed. Kirill, congratulations."

This was not the first time that Seryosha had killed an enemy with a self-defense weapon. He held up the Bobosha submachine gun in his hand and did not fire. Instead, he congratulated Kirill in a half-joking tone, who was lying on the ground.

This is the first time I kill someone with my own hands, and I kill my enemy with such a bloody and hand-to-hand cold weapon assassination technique.

No matter how evil Nasfasis was in his memory and subjective perception, he was still a living person lying on his back in front of Kirill with only the gasping and struggling life left.

Kirill, who was deeply shocked by the visual impact and existing cognition, was short of breath. For a moment, he didn't even know how to evaluate what he had just done. The feeling of killing a living person for the first time was far better than what his comrades said. The understatement came more violently.

"Hey, Seryosha, please keep an eye on Kirill, I feel like he's about to wet his pants."

Iushkin, who witnessed all this not far away, turned his head and shouted, while exerting force with his right foot to press the thing on the sole of his foot deeper into the snow. Major Baker grinned in pain, followed by another burst of pain. It doesn't scream like a human being killing a pig.

"Oh oh oh, I almost forgot that there is a lackey raised by Hitler here. Now hand over your dog teeth to me."

Seeing the hateful Russian who stepped on his severely injured right hand reaching for the pistol on his waist, intending to disarm, Major Baker, driven by resentment and will, temporarily forgot the pain and forced his left arm to swing. The bayonet that had been pulled out from his waist was thrust directly into the opponent's chest, which was within reach, with a not-so-standard tactical move.

Crack --

Puff --

"Ah!!!"

In his early years, Iushkin was recommended by his superiors to the Tank School for further studies because of his outstanding performance in the Infantry Division, and eventually graduated with excellent grades and joined the Red Army Tank Force. This was what Iushkin was most proud of and liked to show off in front of familiar people.

Years of being a gunner with the main gun of a tank did not make Iushkin forget his original skills. At the beginning of the year, he was free to wrestle and knocked down the big regiment commander, Comrade Malashenko. Iushkin won by his quick eyes and hands and precise force to hit the vital points.

However, the precise force that could knock down the 1.9-meter-tall Malashenko over the shoulder would not be as simple as a pain or two when used on the fascist enemy with a blood feud.

"Your broken knife can slap back even a one-year-old bear! In the Soviet Union, you can only be played with! German!"