Under One Person: The Sea Emperor Who Shattered Heaven and Earth

He turned around and stared intently at his adjutant: "Send a telegram to the military, even if it means using the most critical budget. Research on 'superpowered individuals' and 'human mutations' must be given top priority right now. If other countries acquire these 'individual weapons' while we're still researching tanks and artillery, we won't even qualify as opponents in the next war."

On the sea, the Seventh Fleet's steel behemoths tossed and turned in the still-swelling waves. MacArthur looked at them and for the first time felt that these warships, which he had once been so proud of, looked like a row of tin toys on the surface.

Tokyo, Shinjuku.

Dust fell like snow, filling the sky.

Jiang Zhen took a step forward. Behind him, a dozen elite men from the canal gang followed closely. These men were covered in dust, but their spirits were extremely high.

"Boss, half of this dilapidated building is still standing." A burly man looked up at the crumbling capital building, his tone tinged with regret.

"I'm keeping it so I can find someone to pay for it."

Jiang Zhen spoke calmly. He deliberately left the building's skeleton intact because those "big shots" were still hiding inside.

The group swaggered over the shattered riot shields and twisted police car wrecks scattered on the ground to the entrance of the Metropolitan Government Building. The once magnificent revolving door was now a pile of broken pieces, but Jiang Zhen did not stop and stepped directly into the heart of this Eastern power.

"Tack, tick, tick..."

The steady, rhythmic footsteps echoed in the empty, deathly silent hall.

The tremors caused a complete power outage, leaving the building dark and gloomy. Only the faint, oppressive aura emanating from Jiang Zhen made the entire building seem to tremble slightly.

The building has three floors, which are used as office areas.

This place was once the most sophisticated administrative machine in all of Japan, where officials in suits signed documents that determined the fate of the nation. Now, it is nothing but a scene of devastation.

An overturned desk and confidential documents scattered all over the floor.

"Tap, tap..."

As Jiang Zhen's footsteps echoed down the corridor, those elites who usually spoke loudly about international order and national dignity revealed their most primal, animalistic ugliness.

A high-ranking official from the Ministry of Finance was huddled under a mahogany desk, his hands tightly clutching his head, his crotch soaked with sweat. He listened to the approaching footsteps, making strange gurgling sounds in his throat.

"Don't kill me... I'm just a civil servant... I've never been to China..."

In another corner, a female secretary was frantically kneeling and praying before the broken wall, incoherently shouting, "Earthquake God, please calm your anger... please accept my offerings..."

Under such overwhelming power, their rationality has completely collapsed.

"Bang—crash!"

A bureau chief with a pre-existing heart condition couldn't bear the oppressive silence and the sound of footsteps. He suddenly rushed out from a corner and frantically slammed into the glass curtain wall. With a sharp crack, he fell from the third floor directly into the rubble below and died instantly.

Jiang Zhen kept his eyes straight ahead.

"Brothers, let's go catch some fish," Jiang Zhen ordered casually.

"okay!"

The men behind them, like wolves entering a sheepfold, roughly smashed open the office doors one by one.

"Get out! All of you, get out here!"

"Anyone found hiding here will be shot on sight!"

The men grinned maliciously as they dragged out the high-ranking officials who had been hiding behind safes, in cabinets, and even in trash cans. These usually arrogant cabinet members were now like a string of grasshoppers tied together, being pushed and driven, stumbling and staggering towards a large conference room.

That was the only relatively intact room in the capital's main hall. Half of the huge French window was broken, and a cold wind rushed in through the gap, causing the scattered documents and papers on the floor to flutter. The view outside the window was excellent, directly facing the cemetery named "Tokyo" that Jiang Zhen had personally created—ruins stretching as far as the eye could see, smoke still rising, and the distant bay still churning with the aftershocks of a tsunami.

More than a dozen high-ranking Japanese officials—including the prime minister, cabinet ministers, and the superintendent of police—were left in the center of the room like dead dogs.

Jiang Zhen walked in slowly.

A man from the canal gang glanced at the corner of the room. There stood a Rising Sun flag. He sneered, strode over, and ripped it off with a "rip," clutching the red and white cloth in his hand. Then he turned and walked to the large leather chair at the head of the table, flipped the flag over, and laid it neatly on the chair.

"Boss, this mat looks nice to me."

Jiang Zhen didn't say anything, but sat down with an air of nonchalance.

His feet were on the carpet with gold embroidery, his body leaned back slightly, and his hands rested on the armrests.

Opposite him, the highest-ranking officials of the Japanese government knelt in unison, not daring to even breathe loudly. Cold wind kept pouring in through the broken windows, stirring up dust that swirled among them.

Jiang Zhen looked at the group of people, a faint but chilling sneer curling at the corner of his mouth.

How is everyone?

His fingers tapped lightly on the armrest.

"Boom."

The entire floor trembled again. A few wisps of dust fell from the ceiling.

"Now we can talk." Jiang Zhen's gaze swept over each pale face in front of him. His voice was not loud, but it overpowered the howling wind outside the window and clearly reached everyone's ears.

"Account—"

"How should I repay it?"

Chapter 100 Confession

On the top floor of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, through the remaining glass windows, thick black smoke swirled in the sky above Tokyo.

Jiang Zhen casually tossed a roll of yellowed official documents from his pocket. The papers scattered in mid-air, like a broken string of prayer beads, landing on the floor tiles in front of Prime Minister Koiso.

"This is the list of all the intrusions made back then."

Koiso's hand trembled as he reached out and picked up one of the papers. The building was without power, and he could only make out the writing by the dim red light streaming in from the fire-ravaged ruins outside the window. Every name was horrifying. With each one he recognized, his fingers trembled even more violently.

“Mr. Jiang…” Koiso’s voice was hoarse, “Some of these people are now the administrative backbone of Japan, and many others are now ordinary citizens. If they all die, the entire country will be completely paralyzed.”

"Paralyzed?" Jiang Zhen sat on the leather chair covered with the Rising Sun Flag, leaning slightly forward, his eyes like knives. "What does this have to do with me? They've lived too long. This debt must be paid with lives."

"Besides, aren't you already paralyzed?"

Then Jiang Zhen extended a finger and tapped the table:

"My demands are simple. First, everyone on the list—execute them all. Leave no one alive."

He paused. He looked away from the list and turned his gaze towards a certain direction outside the window. That was the direction of the Imperial Palace.

"Secondly, your locust, along with the entire locust chamber—will be completely wiped out."

"hiss--"

A collective gasp filled the meeting room, as if a dozen people had been simultaneously choked. Several cabinet ministers collapsed to the floor, their faces contorted in agony. Such treasonous words were more unbearable for them than a sword piercing their hearts.

"This is impossible!" The Superintendent General of Police looked up abruptly, his voice shrill and shrill. "That's the symbol of the nation! It's the faith of an unbroken lineage! Jiang Zhen—you're slaughtering the soul of a nation!"

Jiang Zhen didn't say anything.

He simply stomped his foot lightly.

"Om-!"

The building shook violently again, and the already dilapidated chandelier fell completely, crashing down next to the Superintendent General, shards of glass cutting his face.

"Your beliefs?" Jiang Zhen looked down at him, his voice flat. "Like I said, what does it have to do with me?"

Prime Minister Koiso took a deep breath of the smoke-filled air. He knew that the man before him was not negotiating, but delivering a verdict.

As a politician who has been navigating the political arena for decades, he attempted to use "interests" to secure his survival.

“Mr. Jiang, please listen to me.” Koiso straightened his back, trying to maintain the last shred of diplomatic dignity. “Killing will not solve the problem. If you are willing to stop, the Japanese government is willing to make the biggest concession in its history.”

He raised his hand and pointed south. His fingers were trembling, but he tried to keep his voice steady.

"First, we are willing to pay reparations for the aggression of that year; the amount is negotiable. Second..."

He swallowed hard and offered what he thought was an offer he couldn't refuse.

"Secondly, we can designate the entire Kyushu Island as a 'Special Zone'—completely ceded to you, to be ruled by your own Canal Gang. You can establish your own laws and your own army there. It is the territory of the East, but from today onwards, it belongs only to you."

"Cease?" A member of the Canal Gang laughed, spitting a glob of phlegm in his face. "Old man, are you mistaken? Where our leader wants to go is his own business. Do we need you to cede it?"

Jiang Zhen smiled too.

That smile sent a chill down Koiso's spine.

"Koiso, do you think you're very rich? Or do you think that piece of land is very big?"

He stood up and walked step by step to the windowsill. Below him lay Shinjuku, reduced to ruins, with firelight flickering between the broken streets, and in the distance, Tokyo Bay was still churning with the murky foam left by the tsunami.

"What do I want—is it up to you to give it to me?"

Jiang Zhen turned his head, his eyes revealing an overbearing arrogance that seemed to surpass all others:

"If I want Kyushu, Kyushu will be mine. If I want the entire East, then the East will be mine. You're offering me my things in exchange for these dog lives? Are you kidding me?"

He suddenly raised his hand, and an invisible vibration gathered at his fingertips. A deep hum filled the air, as if the entire building was trembling.

“If we don’t do it, Tokyo will completely disappear from the sea level in an hour. Of course, Tokyo is just the beginning. I can guarantee that only seawater will remain on this land afterward, not even a single steel bar will be left.”

Jiang Zhen turned around and issued his final ultimatum.

"You have one hour. Transmit this message to every radio station in Japan, China, and the world that can be found. Have you important figures read it aloud yourself."

“Listen carefully. I don’t want a ‘surrender’ document, I want a ‘confession’ document.”

Jiang Zhen explained, word by word:

"You must acknowledge before the whole world every atrocity committed back then. Acknowledge that you were not defeated by force, but by evil. After reading this—before the whole world, begin the execution of those on the list."

Koiso listened to Jiang Zhen's demands with extreme humiliation, almost nailing the history of Japan to the pillar of shame.

“If we read this… the Orient will be completely finished,” Koiso murmured absentmindedly.

"If we don't read it, Japan is finished right now." Jiang Zhen glanced at his watch. "Fifty-eight minutes left."

Meanwhile, in the outer seas of the East.

MacArthur stood beside the communications officer, clutching a newly translated encrypted telegram. The sea breeze rattled his uniform collar, but he seemed oblivious. His gaze was fixed on the few lines of text on the paper, reading them over and over again.

That was a directive from the White House and the Pentagon.

"General, the reply has arrived." The adjutant's voice trembled slightly. "Their intention is... not to interfere, to make contact with him, to be on good terms, to exchange ideas. If he is willing, Japan will be given to him, and it would be best to permanently pin him to Japanese soil."

……

Inside the conference room of the capital, Jiang Zhen remained seated in the leather chair, eyes closed, resting.

"Boss, those bastards are crying outside, all vying to write their wills," a gang member whispered as he approached, his face beaming with undisguised glee. "Some of them fainted halfway through. What a bunch of cowards."

Jiang Zhen opened his eyes and glanced at the distant horizon.