Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 358 Speech
Inside the headquarters compound of the county government office in Wutai County.

As winter approaches, the first snow begins to fall outside, and the blue bricks in the corner of the courtyard wall are covered with damp frost.

The room was decorated in an antique style, with files and maps piled on the desk, a half-smoked cigarette, and a teacup filled with hot water steaming.

Su Yaoyang, dressed in military uniform, leaned back in his nanmu chair, his brows furrowed as he stared at the secret report sent by the intelligence department.

"Loyal Alliance?"

He couldn't help but repeat it in a low voice, as if afraid he had misheard. His fingertips rubbed against the paper, and he could clearly feel the ink still wet on his rough fingertips.

"Yes, Commander."

Intelligence Chief Wei Jin looked strange, and when he handed over the report, he did not hide his surprise. "This is not only spreading among prisoners of war, but also among several Japanese nurses and low-ranking officers who have been incorporated into the army. According to our intelligence personnel, they have witnessed this with their own eyes."

The room fell silent for a moment, with only the rustling sound of papers turning.

Su Yaoyang rubbed his temples, a helpless smile flashing across his eyes: "Heh... Nakata Katsuhiko, that dog's brain is really quick."

Originally, the prisoner-of-war camp was handed over to him because he was the first to surrender voluntarily.

But who would have thought he'd actually create a 'loyalty alliance,' and openly proclaim it under that banner? If Chongqing heard about it, they'd probably tear the roof off!

Wei Jin hesitated for a moment, then asked cautiously, "Chief, should we... suppress this matter immediately?"
After all, this matter is highly inflammatory and politically risky.

If this is exploited by those with ulterior motives, they could make a big fuss about it, and accusations such as "colluding with the enemy," "condoning the Japanese invaders," "harboring ulterior motives," or even "plotting separatism" could be hurled at them relentlessly.

At that time, our great achievement in annihilating the 27th Division will likely be overshadowed, or even completely tarnished, by the stigma of this "loyal alliance"!

He added, "Moreover, the Military Intelligence Bureau and the Central Bureau of Investigation and Statistics have very keen noses in Shanxi."

Su Yaoyang tapped the table lightly, his gaze fixed on the report, his expression complex and unreadable.

After a long while, he let out a long breath and hummed softly, "What's the point of suppressing them... If you suppress them too much, they'll turn against you."

It's not necessarily a bad thing that a Japanese person is now shouting that he wants to pledge allegiance to me.

Let him do what he wants. Keep an eye on things. As long as he doesn't cross the line, this flag might actually be turned around.

At this point, he raised his hand and summoned the staff officer on duty: "Go and inform Lu Shaobin to send more personnel to the prisoner-of-war camp, and do not allow any unforeseen complications."

At the same time, he told Pi Ruoyu that he wanted to re-mark the number of prisoners of war and recount their numbers.

Perhaps in the future, the Shanxi militia will have another unit designation.

Wutai County, western suburbs.

The cold November wind swirled yellow leaves around the frost-covered earth and blew to the camp surrounded by barbed wire and wooden stakes.

For the local residents, this is nothing new.

Initially, there were only a few dozen Japanese prisoners of war held here, huddled in a small enclosure.

As time went on, more and more Japanese prisoners were captured, and the work they had to do increased.

They built roads, dug canals, and felled trees. After finishing their work, they rushed back to the camp. Now, the number of prisoners here has exceeded one thousand, and the camp has been expanded in circles, turning into a "new town".

But something new happened here this morning.

Several Japanese prisoners of war wearing patched uniforms carried a plaque to the gate. Then, four people carried two wooden ladders and climbed up to the gate where the plaque was hanging. They took down the plaque that had been hanging there for two years and threw it on the ground.

Then, another wooden plaque was brought up... This plaque looked very new, the smell of paint had not yet dissipated, and the four large black characters on the plaque were painted jet black and shiny: "Loyal Alliance".

The onlookers gasped in astonishment, whispering amongst themselves, their faces filled with disbelief.

"Hey, buddy, what does that sign say?" an illiterate farmer asked a passerby.

"Loyal... Loyal Alliance?" the vendor next to him read out, word by word.

"Hey... why are these Japanese devils hanging up such a sign?" an auntie who came to sell vegetables couldn't help but exclaim.

Several old men who came to the market held their pipes but dared not make a sound.

After all, the guards stood at the door, more than ten of them carrying rifles, watching with cold faces, but strangely doing nothing.

What chilled the villagers even more was that the officer guarding the gate even lit a cigarette and coldly watched as the prisoners of war took down the old plaque and hung up the new one.

The sound of nails being struck, "thump, thump, thump," was particularly clear in the cold wind.

In an instant, this place, which was originally called a "prisoner of war camp," was renamed by the prisoners themselves.

On the other side of the wall, hundreds of prisoners of war erupted in a dense shout, a mix of Japanese and broken Chinese, with some even yelling, "Loyalty... Alliance!" The sound reverberated along the barbed wire, reaching the ears of the nearby villagers like a tidal wave, sending chills down their spines.

In the heart of the POW camp, in a muddy clearing the size of a football field, trampled underfoot and barren, a chilling atmosphere permeated the air.

The cold wind swirled dust and sand, sweeping across faces that were either numb, terrified, or bewildered.

More than a thousand Japanese prisoners of war, dressed in tattered, uniform gray cloth prison uniforms, were ordered and driven here.

Now, they stand densely packed together, like a silent, gray forest.

All eyes, whether filled with resentment, anger, fear, or despair, were now focused on the makeshift, crudely constructed wooden platform in the center of the open space.

On the stage, Katsuhiko Nakata, dressed in a woolen military uniform, straightened his back and tried his best to imitate the posture of the Japanese officers he had seen in the past.

He looked down at the sea of ​​heads below, a feverish mix of desire for control, ecstasy, and vanity burning within him.

He held the megaphone to his mouth, and soon a hoarse, static-filled voice echoed across the playground:
"Warriors of the Empire...please allow me to address you as such."

Katsuhiko Nakata's way of addressing them surprised many people. Before this, he had always called them either "bastards" or "lowly slaves," but today he had completely changed his way of addressing them.

"I would like to ask, what exactly was the goal for which you shed blood and sacrificed your lives before?"
"Do you think you're loyal to the Emperor? To the country? Or to our Yamato people?" He waved his arms vigorously, spitting as he spoke.

"But I'm telling you, you're all wrong. You're all wrong. We used to be loyal to those zaibatsu who sit in their luxurious mansions in Tokyo, Osaka, and Nagoya, smoking cigars, drinking foreign liquor, and playing with geisha!"

"It's those capitalists who fatten themselves up with our flesh and blood!" he roared hoarsely.

"Think of your hometown, think of your brothers who toil day and night in factories, their marrow drained. And think of your parents who toil in the fields, their faces to the earth and their backs to the sky, yet they can't even fill their stomachs!"

His voice grew increasingly impassioned: "Do you know how many mothers in Japan have to sell their daughters to support their children?"

How many wives, just to get a bite of rice, have to...have to sell themselves to those filthy men?

Is this the 'empire' you protected with your lives? Is this the 'blessing' your high and mighty masters brought to your loved ones?

In an inconspicuous spot in the POW camp, Wei Jin, dressed in an ordinary guard uniform, looked at Nakata Katsuhiko, who was spitting as he spoke on the high platform, and exclaimed in amazement, "This guy is a real talent."

"No!"

At that moment, Katsuhiko Nakata suddenly roared at the top of his lungs, "This is hell! A hell that eats people up without spitting out their bones!"

The cold wind howled as it swept through the crowd.

Ripples began to spread across the deathly silence beneath the high platform.

Those prisoners who came from impoverished farmhouses, miner families, or the urban underclass began to be moved, and those painful memories began to wash over their minds.

Some people bit their lips tightly, their eyes reddening.

Some people looked down at their hands, which were covered in calluses and chilblains, and their bodies trembled slightly.

Some people clenched their fists so tightly that their knuckles turned white.

Katsuhiko Nakata depicted the bloody reality that many of them had personally experienced or witnessed.

This empathy, like a poison, quietly washed over their souls.

Seeing the subtle changes in the audience, a hint of smugness flashed in Katsuhiko Nakata's eyes, before he put on an even colder, resolute expression, cutting off all escape routes.

“I know that many of you think that once you are captured and the war is over, you can go back to that ‘hell’?”
I'm telling you... dream on!

His voice suddenly became shrill, like an ice pick piercing everyone's eardrums.

"In the eyes of those gentlemen, you are a stain! A disgrace! You are trash that tarnishes the reputation of the 'Imperial Army'!"

He's a 'non-citizen'! He's a traitor!
Your family will be disgraced because of you, scorned by your neighbors, and fired by your boss.

You yourselves will be arrested and interrogated by the military police like trash, then thrown into prison, or simply taken to some corner and 'disposed of'!

Go back? Going back means certain death! A hundred times more painful than dying here!

If the previous words had reminded the prisoners of their painful memories, these words were like a heavy hammer, shattering the last shred of hope in their hearts.

As the last glimmer of hope was extinguished, only a chilling despair remained in the hearts of the prisoners.

In fact, there are some things that the prisoners already know without Nakata Katsuhiko saying them.

The first rule of the Japanese Army's infantry manual clearly states: Never become a prisoner of war, because that will only bring shame upon your family.

The atmosphere in Japan was similar. Once a soldier was captured, his family back home would be implicated and ostracized by everyone. They might even be arrested, imprisoned, and tortured, and the women might be sold to tea houses.

Although they knew this, many people still harbored a sense of wishful thinking, believing that although they were prisoners of war, Japan would recognize them as those who died in battle or went missing, and their families would not be implicated. They thought that once the war ended, they could return to Japan and live normal lives.

But Katsuhiko Nakata's words tore away their fig leaf, revealing their bloody wounds.

Just as the prisoners were in despair, Katsuhiko Nakata's expression suddenly turned fanatical. He waved his arms and shouted wildly:

"If nothing unexpected happens, what I just said will be your fate."

But… General, the great General Su, he gave us another way to live, a bright path to survival!

He opened his arms wide, his expression as devout as if embracing a deity. "The general was kind and benevolent. He didn't treat us like animals. He kept us alive, fed us, clothed us, and gave us... a chance for a new life!"

At this moment, Katsuhiko Nakata's voice was full of seduction:
"Put down your pointless loyalty, which has been deceived by the chaebols."

Join me in pledging allegiance to the General, becoming his loyal retainer, a glorious warrior under his command, or... even just a devoted servant!

At this moment, Katsuhiko Nakata looked like a devout believer, his expression one of utmost devotion and fervor.

"Following the General!"

He suddenly raised his arms and shouted as if he were a madman, "With our blood and sweat, let's help the General defeat that corrupt, dark, blood-sucking old Japan and overthrow those vampires riding on our heads!"

"Then!"

His voice suddenly rose to its peak, “Then we can return to our hometown in glory, as victors, to save our loved ones, and to build a new Japan that truly belongs to us poor people, a new Japan of equality! A new Japan under the glorious light of the General!”

"..."

There was dead silence in the audience.

The vast majority of prisoners were dumbfounded, as if struck by lightning! Their minds went completely blank.

Katsuhiko Nakata's depiction of the scene is too fantastical... from a lowly prisoner of war and slave, he transforms into the creator of "New Japan" and returns home in glory.

This was truly astonishing, completely beyond their comprehension and the boundaries of their imagination.

This is no longer a betrayal, but a complete and destructive spiritual reconstruction, a total denial and trampling of their past life and beliefs.

For a time, many prisoners felt that their worldview had been greatly impacted, and they became confused.

But some quick-thinking individuals, especially those skilled at speculation, began to have a complex and indescribable glint in their eyes, as if they had seen a honey-coated poisonous vine offered by the devil in the boundless darkness.

Standing on the high platform, Katsuhiko Nakata looked down at the stunned crowd below and licked his lips with satisfaction.

The seeds have been sown; now it's time to see how much we can reap.

In fact, not only were the Japanese prisoners frightened, but even Wei Jin and the guards who were watching the spectacle were stunned by Nakata Katsuhiko's performance.

Wei Jin muttered to himself, "Damn it, it's a good thing this Wei Jin is just a prisoner. If the Manchus were still around, they could have castrated this kid and sent him to the palace. He might have become the second Li Lianying."

(End of this chapter)