The Little Demonic Cultivator in the Courtyard: Borrowing 100,000 Japanese Pirates to Heal

Those who were chosen to sit in this auditorium were all selected; they felt they were useful in the eyes of the Japanese.

The feeling of being chosen creates an illusion, making one feel different from ordinary people who are searched and executed.

After the speech, the translator led everyone in chanting slogans.

First came the Japanese word "Banzai," then the Daxia word "Banzai Empire," and finally "Co-prosperity Sphere."

The people below the stage shouted along, and the voices of five hundred people mingled together, shaking the windows of the auditorium.

Yi Zhonghai raised his fist and shouted louder than the people next to him.

Xu Jiande stood next to him, also raising his fist, his lips moving, his mouth wide open, but making almost no sound.

This is a case of someone passing off inferior goods as superior ones.

Xu Jiande thought it was over after the slogans were shouted. He was even already planning to go home when he was told that everyone should stand up and leave through the side door in order.

The administrators below the stage stood up one after another, their faces still glowing from the red light of their chanting. Some were even whispering about what had just happened.

Five hundred people chanting slogans together can indeed create a sense of collective excitement.

The group filed out through the side gate, with Xu Jiande and Yi Zhonghai walking among them, and no one spoke along the way.

After leaving the auditorium, the Japanese soldiers did not let them go home, but instead took them to Caishikou, which was not far away.

Four or five hundred people stood in several rows on the open ground, facing a wide, bluestone-paved square.

Armed Japanese soldiers stood around the square, their bayonets gleaming coldly in the sunlight, forming an impenetrable encirclement. At the far end of the square, a row of people knelt.

Xu Jiande's eyesight was much better than that of ordinary people. Standing in the middle of the crowd, hundreds of meters away, he could clearly see the appearance of that row of people.

Among these more than one hundred people, some were genuine resistance fighters, while others were actually dressed as ordinary civilians.

But whoever it is, kneeling on the bluestone slab with their hands tied behind their backs, each has a different expression on their face.

Some held their heads high, their eyes filled with defiance; some lowered their heads, their shoulders trembling violently; and some stared blankly at the crowd in front of them.

But most of the time, they just seemed very scared.

These 500 administrators have no idea why they're here.

Was he being asked to come and watch the Japanese soldiers being executed?

Soon, the Japanese announced that they would have these courtyard administrators executed.

As instructed, the compound administrator was to execute these individuals one by one. Each person could choose to use a bayonet or a broadsword, but at the very least, they had to leave wounds on the victim or kill them outright.

As the translator spoke, the courtyard administrators were dumbfounded. It turned out they hadn't come to watch the execution, but to carry it out themselves.

These words were like a bucket of cold water poured on the crowd.

The last vestige of excitement from being chosen was instantly extinguished.

Many people gasped, some backed away, and some began to tremble.

Everyone was silent.

The Japanese officer waited a few seconds, then repeated the order. This time his tone was colder, and he added, "Anyone unwilling to comply will be considered a traitor and executed on the spot."

These words were like a knife pressed against everyone's lower back.

Xu Jiande stood in the crowd, his hands slowly clenching into fists inside his sleeves.

He recalled how he had killed so many Japanese soldiers outside the city gates, stabbed them in the throats with bayonets in the alleys, blown up their machine gunners with grenades, and written warning letters telling them not to kill civilians.

Now the Japanese are using the same logic against them: if you don't kill people, I'll kill you.

Moreover, this is a slap in the face to my warning from last night; in short, they didn't listen to me at all.

In an instant, Xu Jiande's demonic energy became extremely violent. The heat in his dantian exploded like ignited gunpowder, surging wildly through his meridians to his limbs and bones.

His fingers clenched so tightly inside his sleeves that they cracked, and the veins on the back of his hands bulged out like wriggling earthworms.

Xu Jiande wanted to take action and kill all the Japanese soldiers with rifles one by one. After reaching the second level of Qi Refining, he was confident that he could take out all the surrounding Japanese soldiers within ten seconds at this distance.

But he can't.

If I act now, I can kill a few Japanese soldiers, but there is at least a squad of Japanese soldiers around Caishikou with machine guns mounted on the rooftops all around, their muzzles pointed at the square.

Hundreds of unarmed compound administrators stood around him, along with even more onlookers.

Once the guns are fired, these people will become sitting ducks.

He can escape by scaling the wall, but these people can't.

Moreover, even if he escaped, the Japanese would massacre the entire courtyard, and none of Bai Ling, He Daqing, or the deaf old woman would survive.

So he couldn't do anything, he could only stand there, watch, and fucking endure it.

At this moment, the Japanese soldiers spoke again, ordering the 500 compound administrators to hurry up and take action.

The translator's voice echoed across the square, his tone shifting from authoritative to impatient, urging with a hint of threat.

Many courtyard managers began to quietly retreat, heads down, shrinking themselves into the crowd, wishing they could shrink into a needle and fall into a crack in the ground.

Wang Xiaoyong stood at the front of the crowd, his gaze passing over several people before landing on Xu Jiande.

He didn't speak, but simply nodded quietly.

That nod made it clear: he couldn't stay out; someone had to step up first.

Since you are going to become a courtyard manager, you will inevitably go through this stage.

Even if you don't take the lead, the Japanese won't let you off the hook, and things will get even harder from here on out.

Xu Jiande had no choice but to go, thinking that he had no choice but to go first.

He raised his hand and said loudly in a trembling voice, "Reporting to the Imperial Army, I am willing."

Immediately, the Japanese soldiers and many of the courtyard managers around them looked at Xu Jiande.

The Japanese officer's gaze held scrutiny, surprise, and a hint of faint approval.

They need a role model, someone willing to take the lead, to break the silence.

The courtyard managers had much more mixed feelings. Some were relieved, finally someone stood up for them.

Some people secretly despised him, thinking that he was a lackey who would do anything to please the Japanese.

Most people just watched numbly, their expressions as empty as those kneeling on the bluestone slabs.

A Japanese major nodded to Xu Jiande, drew his sword from his waist, and handed it over with both hands.

It was a standard Japanese officer's command sword. The scabbard was made of dark brown wood and covered with a layer of dark brown sharkskin. The handle was wrapped with dense silk thread, which had been polished to a shine.

The sound of the blade being drawn was crisp and short, particularly jarring in the silent square.

The blade gleamed coldly in the sunlight, and there was a fine line on the blade, like a natural pattern left during forging, or like a dark mark left after multiple murders.

Xu Jiande accepted the sword and nodded in gratitude.

He then turned around and walked toward the row of people kneeling.

The bluestone slabs were scorching hot from the sun, and thousands of eyes were fixed on his entire body.

There were Japanese soldiers, courtyard managers, and tortured people kneeling on the ground waiting to die.

Xu Jiande walked forward step by step, at a moderate pace, his sword held in his right hand with the tip pointing downwards.

Finally, Xu Jiande stood before one of the prisoners.