Courtyard Houses: Longevity Since the War of Resistance

After fire, it must be water.

Don't they like to conduct experiments?

Weren't you supposed to be conducting frostbite experiments, water pressure tests, and other heinous tests on living people? Today, we'll let you experience it for yourselves.

I walked up to Shiro Ishii, and to prevent them from losing consciousness, I mercifully used my divine medical skills to treat them.

Why am I so kind!

"Dr. Ishii," I called out as I crouched down. He flinched and tried to shrink back, making strange hoarse noises and barely able to speak.

I didn't waste any words with him. I reached out, grabbed his hair, and dragged him up from the ground. He wasn't short, but he felt as light as a chicken in my hands.

"All-rounder".

I pressed my free hand on the ground, and something began to grow from the middle of the concrete floor. It was a rectangular stone trough with smooth edges, like the kind they used to soak specimens in their lab, but much larger, big enough for a person to lie down in.

The moment the stone trough appeared, it filled with water. The water was clear, but it emitted wisps of white steam; it was a mixture of ice and water, and the water temperature was zero degrees Celsius.

I dragged Shiro Ishii to the edge of the stone trough. He seemed to know what was about to happen, and started howling like a pig being slaughtered, kicking his arms and legs wildly.

I applied more pressure, and he immediately cried out in pain, only able to make gurgling sounds in his throat.

"You really enjoy low-temperature experiments, don't you?" I looked into his pupils, dilated with fear. "Do you remember how those people you stripped naked and threw into the snow at sub-zero temperatures outside the village felt in the end?"

Of course he didn't remember; he only recorded data, observed the frostbite grading, and calculated the time of limb necrosis.

I turned him upside down and slowly pushed him into the ice water.

"Ugh gurgle"

The biting cold instantly made him struggle, as icy water poured into his mouth and nose. I timed it, counted to ten, and lifted him up.

He coughed and vomited violently, the icy water he had inhaled gushing out of his nose and mouth, his face turning purple, and his whole body trembling uncontrollably. The low temperature was rapidly taking away his body heat.

"This is just the beginning," I said. After he caught his breath a little, I pushed him in again. This time it lasted longer, twenty seconds.

When he was lifted up, his struggles had weakened considerably, his lips were turning blue, and his eyes were becoming unfocused. These are early signs of hypothermia.

I left him by the stone trough, letting him collapse there, gasping for breath. But I didn't let him gasp for long.

The next target is Kitano Masaji. He's also a key leader. I'll drag him over. This time, I won't use the stone trough.

I made him stand with his back against a pillar, and then tied his wrists and ankles to the pillar with iron chains, binding them very securely. Then I walked up to him.

"I heard you have an experiment where you hang people upside down to test the limits of blood flow to the brain?" I asked him.

Kitano Masaji kept his eyes tightly shut, not daring to look at me, and just shook his head desperately.

I waved my hand, and the chains binding him suddenly tightened, suspending him upside down, more than a meter off the ground. He screamed in panic, blood rushed to his head, and his face quickly turned bright red.

I walked over to the side, where there was a water tap that I had created directly on the wall using my magic hand. I attached a long rubber hose, connecting one end to the tap and holding the other end in my hand.

Turn on the tap, and a stream of icy water rushes out.

I stuffed the end of the rubber tube into Kitano Seiji's mouth, which was wide open in surprise.

"Ugh! Ugh ugh ugh!"

His eyes widened suddenly, and his body twisted violently, trying to spit out the tube. But the chains were too tight, and he couldn't move at all.

The water continued to forcefully flow into his esophagus and stomach. His belly swelled up at a visible rate. He let out a desperate groan as he choked on the water, and water began to overflow from his nostrils.

I fed him for a full two minutes, until his stomach bulged so much it seemed to burst, his skin stretched taut and almost transparent, revealing the bluish-purple veins underneath. His eyes began to bulge and roll back.

I turned off the tap and pulled out the hose. He immediately began to vomit violently, and a mixture of gastric juices and blood gushed from his mouth and nose, soaking the floor.

But he's not dead yet.

Hypothermia, coupled with a ruptured stomach and pulmonary edema, was slowly killing him. I left him hanging there, feeling his body temperature slowly drain away and his internal organs gradually being eroded by the cold, stagnant fluid.

I turned around and went to find the third person.

Tsuneshige Ikari was in charge of the actual execution of the frostbite experiments. The records say that he often personally observed the frostbite process of the maruta (their term for live experimenters) in the freezing cold and recorded it in great detail.

He was hiding behind an overturned lab table, holding his head and muttering to himself, as if he were praying.

When I pulled him out, his crotch was already soaked.

"You know a lot about frostbite, don't you?" I dragged him to another spot.

Here, I used my versatile hands to create a larger pool. The pool isn't deep, only reaching an adult's waist. But the water in the pool is different; it's not still, but slowly flowing and swirling, forming a cold whirlpool. The water temperature is even lower than in the stone trough, close to freezing point, with fine ice crystals floating on the surface.

I threw Tsuneshige Ikari into the pool.

"Ah!" He let out a piercing scream as soon as he entered the water. The icy water instantly reached his chest.

He tried to climb out, but the bottom and walls of the pool were covered by an invisible, extremely smooth force field, so he couldn't find any foothold. He thrashed about, only able to spin around in the icy eddies.

Even more terrifying was that the water's low temperature was persistent and was slowly decreasing. The cold air felt like countless needles, piercing through his skin and penetrating his bones and marrow. His extremities began to lose sensation, followed by tingling, and finally numbness—the standard progression of frostbite.

"Feel it," I said, standing by the pool as he struggled futilely in the icy whirlpool. "This is what it feels like for those people you stripped naked and left out in the open. Then on the second day, their limbs start to turn black and necrotize. On the third day, you either have to saw off their hands and feet or watch them rot to death."

Tsuneshige Ikari could no longer hear me. His lips were frozen purple, his teeth chattered like the sound of clappers, and his eyes began to glaze over. The low temperature was robbing him of his consciousness.

I left him in the water, timing it carefully, and only pulled him out and threw him on the edge of the pool just before his body temperature dropped below the lethal threshold and he was about to lose consciousness and drown.

He lay there, paralyzed like a lump of uncontrollable flesh, only able to twitch unconsciously. Severe frostbite had already appeared on his hands and feet, his skin turning an ominous waxy white and bluish-purple.

There are also two important figures.

Tomosada Masuda, head of pathology research, has witnessed countless crimes that turned healthy organs into pathological specimens.

Hisato Yoshimura is a key figure in frostbite research and has published numerous academic papers based on human experimental data.

I dragged them both together. They were so frightened that they were limp and unable to stand.

I built two transparent tanks side by side, like large fish tanks, just the right size to fit a person inside, with only their head sticking out.

I put Masuda Tomosada into the left water tank and Yoshimura Hisato into the right. Then I started filling the tank with water.

The water is at room temperature; it's not cold.

But they were strapped into the water tank and completely unable to move. They could only watch helplessly as the water level rose little by little, over their chests, over their necks, and finally stopped below their chins. They could breathe by tilting their heads back slightly, but if they tilted their heads down slightly, they would choke on the water.

That's not all.

I adjusted the water pressure in both tanks. In the tank on the left, Masuda Tomosada's water pressure began to change slowly and periodically. After a while, the pressure increased, compressing his chest cavity, making him feel as if he were being crushed by a heavy object, causing difficulty breathing and swelling in his eyes.

One moment the pressure would decrease, and the next he would experience nausea and dizziness, as if he were losing weight. These changes were completely unpredictable, repeatedly tormenting his cardiovascular and circulatory systems.

On the right, in Yoshimura Hisato's water tank, the water temperature began to change. It wasn't simply getting colder, but rather rapidly and erratically switching between room temperature, freezing point, and even slightly above body temperature.

His body had to constantly adapt to sudden changes in temperature, and his skin and blood vessels repeatedly expanded and contracted. The intense temperature difference caused him great pain, and he soon began to shiver, followed by alternating symptoms of heat exhaustion and hypothermia.

They didn't even have the strength to scream anymore, only able to utter intermittent, painful groans. Masuda Tomosada's face was contorted by the changes in water pressure, and Yoshimura Hisato's skin developed large patches of abnormal redness and purplish-blue from the alternating hot and cold temperatures.

I stood amidst these water tanks, pools, and stone troughs, watching these few devils struggle and break down in their most familiar experimental environment.

The hall became much quieter. Only the sounds of water, coughing, chattering teeth, and faint, dying breaths could be heard.

Shiro Ishii lay by the stone trough, his consciousness hazy, his body convulsing intermittently. Masaji Kitano was still hanging upside down, his abdomen still bloated; the vomiting had stopped, leaving only weak gasps. Tsuneshige Ikari shivered by the poolside, his frostbitten hands and feet beginning to swell and blister. Tomosada Masuda and Hisato Yoshimura endured the relentless torment of water pressure and temperature fluctuations inside the water tank.

I looked at them, then at the data charts on the wall that hadn't been wiped off yet. Those cold numbers corresponded to each and every one of my compatriots who had been completely objectified and destroyed.

Water, the source of life. Here, it has been transformed into the cruelest instrument of torture and a vehicle for experimentation. So today, let water carry out their judgment.

It's almost time.

The god of time, his familiar power surged once more. On the ground, in the water, by the pool, those dying bodies, on the verge of death, were once again restored to their original state, as time reversed.

Shiro Ishii sat bolt upright, frantically touching his dry face and clothes. Masaji Kitano found himself standing again, his stomach flat and breathing easily, but the memory of drowning and suffocation lingered. Tsuneshige Ikari stared at his intact limbs, incredulously moving his fingers. Tomosada Masuda and Hisato Yoshimura scrambled to their feet from the dry ground, looking around blankly.

Despair, a despair deeper and heavier than before, overwhelmed each and every one of them.

I didn't say anything, I just beckoned to Shiro Ishii with my finger.

A new round of punishments has begun.

What could it be?

I can't wait!!!