The Wind Rises in 1898: Becoming a Warlord Starting in Southeast Asia

Chapter 43 Instructors Arrive

Ammunition boxes were piled up on the deck, like a small hill.

The $500 was well spent; Connor took the money and delivered 20000 rounds of 7.62mm rifle ammunition and 10000 rounds of 6mm machine gun ammunition.

"Chen, do you know how to use this thing?" Connor patted the Colt M1895 machine gun, which gleamed with a cold, oily sheen, his eyes filled with a hint of probing.

Chen Feng couldn't guess what he was thinking, and honestly shook his head: "No, you teach me the basics, and I'll practice slowly when I get back."

Connor smiled and waved behind him, "How about this, I'll send you a few instructors to help your Free Army develop combat capability as soon as possible."

Instructor?

It's probably a planted military supervisor!

The person sent here now must be one of the most trusted confidants; we cannot refuse them nor treat them perfunctorily.

Chen Feng shook his head inwardly, but his face was filled with gratitude: "Connor, being able to be friends with you is the luckiest thing that has ever happened to me."

"Hahaha......"

Connor burst into laughter, and ten American soldiers immediately emerged from the cabin, led by a tall, upright officer in his thirties.

Connor pointed to the officer, his tone tinged with pride: "Chen, this is Lieutenant Colonel Frank Gregory, battalion commander of the Pacific Fleet Marine Corps. He led the first team to breach the Cavite naval base during the recent attack."

Then, Connor pointed to Chen Feng and said, "Frank, this is Chen Feng, the commander of the Luzon Chinese Free Army. Don't let his Chinese background fool you; last night, in the pitch black, he single-handedly took down thirteen well-trained gunmen in less than three minutes with just a curved knife."

"Chen, it's a pleasure to meet you. I heard about your deeds from the young men this morning." Frank strode forward, extended his right hand, and had a half-smile on his face.

Is this an attempt to test me?

Chen Feng understood immediately and reached out to shake his hand: "Lieutenant Colonel Frank, it's a pleasure to meet you."

The moment their fingertips touched, Frank suddenly exerted force, his knuckles turning white from the strain.

Chen Feng remained unfazed, and retaliated with his right hand, using only half of his strength.

Connor, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between the two, continued, "Chen, let me make this clear from the start: Frank is only here as an instructor, responsible for teaching tactical knowledge. He won't be directly involved in your battles."

"We happen to be short of professional instructors."

Chen Feng spoke calmly, but his grip remained firm.

Frank, on the other hand, had beads of sweat on his forehead and his cheeks were clenched tightly, clearly not expecting a Chinese man to have such strength.

"Frank, just admit defeat. You're no match for Chen," Connor joked from the side.

"No......"

Frank forced out a single word through gritted teeth, straining with all his might to exert force once more, his entire face turning bright red.

Still not admitting defeat?

Since they're being so ungrateful, there's no need to be polite!

Chen Feng chuckled inwardly, adding more force to his right hand, while maintaining a calm and composed expression.

"Ouch...it hurts!"

Frank cried out in surprise and tried to pull his hand back.

Chen Feng loosened his grip slightly, his smile remaining unchanged: "Lieutenant Colonel Frank, you're very strong!"

"He's certainly strong; he was the Pacific Fleet's fighting champion last year, but he's still a bit inferior to you," Connor added.

Frank rubbed his numb right hand, still unconvinced: "Chen, I admire your strength, but battlefield strength isn't proven by brute force. How about we find an open space and have a go?"

Chen Feng shook his head and said, "I only learned killing techniques, which I only use in life-or-death battles. I never compete with others."

This is what that cheap master taught me: frequent sparring will expose your tricks and conditioned reflexes, allowing someone with ulterior motives to figure out your secrets, which could cost you your life at a critical moment.

Connor shrugged and stepped in to smooth things over: "Alright, alright, there will be plenty of opportunities later. Let's get down to business first."

As they spoke, the merchant ship slowly approached the shore.

Under the setting sun, Zhang Xiuwu was leading more than thirty brothers in drills on the beach. Although their movements were neat, they were still somewhat clumsy.

Frank glanced at them from afar, his brow furrowing slightly: "Chen, is this your unit? Their tactical discipline is terrible; many of their movements are not up to standard."

"Um!"

Chen Feng nodded, a sense of helplessness rising in his heart.

He had no choice, after all, he had never served in the army in his previous life, and he taught his brothers by simply copying what they learned from books, so naturally they only resembled the form but not the spirit.

"I won't disembark. I wish you a successful cooperation and hope that under the leadership of the United States of America, you will soon bring true freedom to Luzon." Connor waved from the ship's railing.

"That day won't be too far away," Chen Feng replied loudly.

"Don't worry, Colonel, I will strictly follow orders." Frank saluted Connor, his tone solemn.

The group transferred to a small boat and landed on the beach. Zhang Xiuwu immediately came to greet them, his cheek scars still covered with thick scabs, making him look somewhat ferocious: "Brother Chen, do I have enough men?"

Chen Feng nodded, pointed at his face, and said, "That's enough! Why isn't your injury healed yet?"

"It can't be that fast." Zhang Xiuwu touched his scar, his eyes lighting up. "Brother Chen, is there a new mission?"

"Hmm." Chen Feng glanced at the brothers watching around him and said in a deep voice, "Take the men and move the supplies back to the camp first. We'll discuss the specific mission when we get back."

This time we had enough manpower, and the heaviest gun cases were much fewer, so we could move them all in one trip.

At first, young master Zheng Mingsong was enthusiastically shouting for help, carrying a box of bullets and rushing to the front.

But after walking only a short distance along the mountain path, he was already panting heavily, leaning against a tree trunk and saying, "Brother Chen, your camp is too remote. It doesn't look like a regular army camp; it looks more like a mountain bandit's stronghold."

Chen Feng stepped forward, took the ammunition box from Zheng's shoulder, placed it on his uninjured right shoulder, and chuckled, "It's good enough to have a place to stay. If Brother Zheng has any spare territory, why not lend it to our Free Army?"

"Our Zheng family has been in business for generations, we don't own any territory." Zheng Mingsong rubbed his sore calves and added, "Brother Chen, don't worry, I will expedite the shipment of the medicine I promised and deliver it as soon as possible."

"And guns?" Chen Feng remembered that he had said he could get his hands on a Spanish standard-issue Mauser 1893 rifle.

Zheng Mingsong's eyes flickered, and he said in a low voice, "This... I need to go home and discuss it with my father. We can send at least fifty first; if it's more than that, we'll have to buy it at market price."

Chen Feng's expression softened slightly: "We, the Chinese Free Army, have always been reasonable, and we will never skimp on the money that is due."

Upon hearing this, Zheng Mingsong felt reassured and said with a smile, "In the future, our Zheng family will definitely provide full support for the procurement of logistical supplies for the Chinese Free Army."

So they want to get involved in military supplies and make money?

I haven't even tried to take advantage of your Zheng family yet!

Chen Feng chuckled inwardly, nodded noncommittally, and quickly caught up with Zhang Xiuwu, who was leading the way, asking, "Has anything happened in the camp these past few days?"

"Nothing serious, it's just that there are often indigenous spies loitering in the surrounding woods, and the terrain is complicated, making them difficult to capture." Zhang Xiuwu carried two boxes of ammunition, beads of sweat covering his forehead, but his tone was very calm.

Chen Feng then inquired in detail about the performance of each platoon leader, and only after learning that everything was normal did he feel completely relieved.