Chapter 28: Conflict (Part 2)

“They don’t dare shoot!”
As Deputy Manager Qi roared, a barrage of bullets swept through the Vietnamese troops, causing massive casualties among their scattered forces and wiping out a large number of them in an instant.
Gunfire, cries, and the sound of bullets hitting bodies mixed together in chaos.
“How dare they shoot?” Deputy Manager Qi stared in shock as many people fell around him. It seemed the Xiliu Camp had ammunition—“We’re government troops!”
Among the Vietnamese soldiers beside him, some were knocked down by the machine gun fire, some fled backward, while others grew fierce: “Charge! They don’t have bayonets!”
They were only ten to twenty steps away from the Xiliu Camp and could reach them in moments. Their melee weapons could come in handy, but then another thick cloud of smoke appeared on the other side, followed by the roar of gunfire.
Yet another group was eliminated. Deputy Manager Qi was completely bewildered—what kind of gun was this?
“Genuine government troops! Not bandits in disguise!” He was on the verge of crying.
“Not bandits! They’re government troops! Government troops!” Such cries echoed continuously, filled with despair: “We’re real Vietnamese government troops, not bandits!”
The situation behind them was even more chaotic. They had thought that once they got close, Zhang Biao and his two subordinates’ rapid fire would be ineffective, but they were utterly wrong.
Almost as soon as Liu Yu started firing into the air, Zhang Biao took action. The Vietnamese soldiers focused their attacks on his Spencer, but to their surprise, he pulled out the revolver given to him by Liu Yu. While the Vietnamese soldiers were still shouting at him, a gunshot rang out, hitting him in the chest.
Zhang Biao drew his gun quickly, and his two subordinates were no slouches either—they immediately pulled out daggers. The Vietnamese soldiers panicked. Zhang Biao was even faster—he fired one round from his revolver, then immediately cocked it, loaded it, and fired again. With Vietnamese soldiers all around him, he spun around, firing continuously.
He looked like a fierce demon. The Vietnamese soldiers wanted to run at the sight of him. Those hit by his gunshots fell instantly, and even those lucky enough to survive were finished off by his subordinates. By the time Zhang Biao ran out of bullets, he was surprised to find the area clear. He tossed his revolver aside, picked up his Spencer, and started firing.
“Not bandits! They’re real government troops!” Now these poor Vietnamese soldiers had no chance to fight back. They fired fewer than three shots before stopping: “We’re soldiers under Governor Huang and Governor Ruan!”
Deputy Manager Qi, who had been inciting them, had already been killed by stray bullets. The beach was covered in blood, with rows of corpses and wounded lying everywhere. But the Xiliu Camp paid no attention to their pleas. Without Liu Yu’s order, they continued to fire in waves. Thankfully, Spencer had stopped firing for now.
Fighting Vietnamese soldiers was nothing. Back in Haiyang, he even dared to burn French churches—he was targeting government troops.
The Xiliu Camp was extremely arrogant. Deng Cunyu over there smiled and gave a thumbs-up: “What a great display of power.”
Vietnamese government troops were nothing! After those rounds of gunfire, not even the Black Flag Army or foreign missionaries could stand against the Xiliu Camp in Shanxi.
Finally, Liu Yu spoke up: “Stop!”

A man emerged from the pile of corpses. He hesitated for a moment before shouting, “We are government troops!”
“Fire!”
Another round of gunfire swept through them, turning them into a mess of bodies. The Vietnamese soldiers were completely panicked, their spirits seemingly scattered everywhere. There was no escape from the relentless gunfire and missiles.
Worse still, they didn’t care that they were government troops. Anyone who claimed to be government troops would immediately be shot to pieces by dozens of bullets.
What to do?
All kinds of weapons lay scattered on the beach. Now, aside from corpses and the wounded, there was not even a place to hide from the gunfire. What to do?
The enemy reloaded their guns. Finally, someone shouted, “We are bandits! We surrender!”
“Scoundrels!” An officer, enraged, wanted to enforce military law, but before he could act, he was blown away by the gunfire. More people then cried out, “We are bandits! We surrender! We really surrender!”
“We’re all bandits! We’re sorry! We really surrender!”
“Thank you, your troops, for saving us from dire straits! We are extremely grateful.”
A group of Vietnamese soldiers knelt on the ground, kowtowing toward the Xiliu Camp while wiping away their tears. “We are bandits!”
“That’s right! This battle was simple. These bandits tried to attack us. We sent Zhang Biao to stop them, but these thieves refused to listen and insisted on attacking us. When persuasion failed…”
“We fired warning shots into the air, but these bandits remained stubborn. First, they kidnapped Zhang Biao, then opened fire on our troops. The Xiliu Camp was forced to fight back and defeat them…”
Liu Yu had already prepared a summary of the battle. The Polish merchants and Liu’s agents beside him also gave thumbs up. “We can prove that the Xiliu Camp was acting in self-defense under duress.”
Deng Cunyu added, “Your troops truly are an army of justice and righteousness.”
The remaining Vietnamese officers couldn’t even cry. They wiped their eyes—their tears had long dried up. What kind of bandits were these? More brutal than our government troops, reversing right from wrong. Worse still, they had to kneel down while vouching for Liu Yu’s words: “Yes, we are vile bandits. Everything you say is true.”
Without words as proof, they had to write down what they said and sign it: “We, these vile bandits, express our deepest apologies for the heavy losses caused to your troops…”
On our side, countless people died and were injured, but look at the Xiliu Camp—how many were hurt?
Liu Yu, furious, said, “Look at the damage you’ve caused! One of Zhang Biao’s brothers was seriously injured by you, and another soldier had his foot hit by your bullets!”
Heaven, those were minor injuries—especially the one hit by a bullet, who only had a superficial wound.
How could we encounter such brutal bandits? Are we the government troops, or are they the government troops?
The Vietnamese officers were in chaos. Their only hope was the Black Flag Army led by Huang Shouzhong.
Hurry and come here.