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

Western media outlets used almost every sensational word imaginable.

The Times, BPC, and the Post all labeled Jiang Zhen with the same tag: "WORLD DESTROYER".

The official narrative was consistent and cautious, with the existence of these extraordinary individuals kept secret and shrouded in secrecy.

All the public knows is that just as the flames of war had finally been extinguished and the world had barely caught its breath, this man named Jiang Zhen has started a new war, attempting to drag the entire order back into the abyss.

Unprecedented waves of protests erupted in the streets of Western countries. Crowds, holding placards, surged toward government buildings and squares, their shouts deafening.

"Sanction Jiang Zhen!"

"Destroy that barbarian!"

"Defend civilized order!"

But in the eyes of those Western elites who truly understand the situation, anger is merely a facade; fear is the underlying truth.

Murder itself is not uncommon—they have killed in war, under the law, and with high-sounding pretexts. But Jiang Zhen is different.

But he had no declaration of war, no international authorization, no need for allies, and no need for logistical lines.

One man, one private army, crossed the sea, targeted and killed, shattering the capital. This is a redefinition of the "logic of might," and the power to define it is not in their hands at this moment.

If he can go to Tokyo today, he can be in any country tomorrow.

In a short time, with the exception of a few, governments of various countries issued joint statements, condemning Jiang Zhen in strong terms and attempting to restrict him by using his public reputation.

All overseas assets related to the Canal Gang were frozen—albeit negligible. Jiang Zhen's name was officially added to the "world's number one terrorist" list, with a long string of zeros following the bounty.

However, on the other side of the ocean, the scene is completely different.

When Prime Minister Koiso's confession was broadcast to every corner of the Dragon Kingdom, the entire nation instantly erupted into a frenzied celebration.

The once tranquil night sky was ignited by countless fireworks. The sound of firecrackers echoed from dawn till dusk, making people's ears ring.

Ordinary people took to the streets, holding up photos of Jiang Zhen. Elderly farmers who had lost loved ones in the war knelt on their doorsteps, wailing and burning newspapers as they cried, "Son, can you hear me? Can you see me? Chief Jiang has avenged you!"

Teahouses, restaurants, and factories.

"Did you hear that?! The Japanese have confessed! All those war criminals have been killed by Chief Jiang!"

"That feels great! This is the first time in my entire life I've felt so at ease!"

"One man destroys a nation! Jiang Gang leader in Japan destroyed that Tokyo with a single punch!"

"How wonderful! Truly unprecedented and unparalleled!!!"

"What world destroyer? In my opinion, Chief Jiang is a 'parasite cleaner'! He's the one who cleans up those scumbags!"

……

The domestic community of supernatural beings was thrown into turmoil. Those old masters who had previously lived in seclusion gathered together, watching the blurry images transmitted from the front lines.

“He’s even stronger now. His innate superpower is like a headless machine; it’s completely beyond our comprehension,” an old man said in a trembling voice. “Chief Jiang is no longer human.”

In the hearts of the people, Jiang Zhen was not a destroyer of the world, but a living god of war, the most violent eruption of decades of pent-up hatred.

Back in Tokyo, the movements of the Canal Gang became the sole focus of intelligence agencies worldwide.

Every day, several reconnaissance planes circle over Tokyo, trying to track down the man in black.

"Boss, those Western journalists have been making a fuss at sea for days, saying they want to interview you and ask you to give 'World Civilization' an explanation," Fifth Master Feng reported with some annoyance.

"Confess? Confess my ass."

"Make them get out."

Master Feng slapped his thigh and grinned.

"okay!"

Chapter 103 Signing the Treaty (4000)

Master Feng is back. He just went to the dock and chased away those Western reporters who were refusing to leave—using the most direct method. He didn't even bring a translator; he only brought twenty armed brothers who stood on the shore, and all the men and women with cameras and microphones shut up immediately.

Two small boats tried to linger, but Master Feng fired three shots into the air. The people on board immediately turned the engines to maximum and ran away without looking back.

Jiang Zhen asked, "Is there any news from the United States?"

"No, according to the news sent back by our brothers at sea, their fleet has been stationary in the open sea, without moving. They were watching when we landed, they were watching when we were doing business in Tokyo, they were still watching when we set fire, and they were still watching when the fire was over yesterday and the smoke had dissipated, but they are still there."

"No one was sent ashore?"

"No. They didn't even let a single reconnaissance boat escape," said Fifth Master Feng, spitting on the ground.

Jiang Zhen took a sip of wine, placed the bottle on his lap, and stared silently at the still-smoking ruins in the distance for a while.

"Then let's leave them alone for now."

Master Feng paused, turning to look at Jiang Zhen's profile. His face was expressionless, showing neither worry nor smugness. "Boss, those are the US Seventh Fleet, a dozen or so warships, just sitting there like this?"

“If they wanted to make a move, they would have done it on day one.” Jiang Zhen’s voice was calm, as if he were talking about something that had nothing to do with him. “The fact that they haven’t made a move yet means they don’t dare to. Since they don’t dare to make a move, they’re just here to watch the show. Let them watch.”

Master Feng thought for a moment, then grinned and said, "That's true. With your big moves in Nagasaki and Tokyo, millions of people have been wiped out. If they're not out of their minds, they won't bother getting involved in this mess. If they really dare to come, we won't be short of a few bucks."

Jiang Zhen finished the last drop of wine in the bottle, then casually tossed it into the ruins. "Let's get down to business now."

"Serious business?" Fifth Master Feng's eyes lit up. "The gang leader is talking about compensation?"

Jiang Zhen nodded.

"Pursuing war criminals is the first step. The people have been killed, the anger has been vented, and the blood debt has been partially avenged under seven days and seven nights of gunfire and blades. But this does not mean that the matter is over."

"Killing is just a means, not an end. The Japanese owed too much to their homeland back then. Do you think killing the executioner will settle the debt? There's no such thing as a free lunch. They have to pay back the money, with interest."

Master Feng pulled out an account book from his pocket, opened it, and inside was a compensation list that had been prepared long ago. He and his men had compiled this document overnight, referring to the records of the Japanese looting their homeland back then, and adding the interest over the years to calculate a figure.

Jiang Zhen took it and glanced at it, his brows furrowing slightly.

"Too little."

Master Feng was taken aback. He took the list and looked at the numbers again, confirming that he wasn't seeing things. "Boss, this is already five times the original amount. The interest alone will be enough to make them suffer."

"What's five times enough?" Jiang Zhen handed the paper back. "Add another zero."

"Add a zero?!" Master Feng's voice cracked. "Boss, this number... it's not that I don't believe you, it's just that this number is too outrageous. Even if you dismantle and sell the entire East—shovel up their land and sell the soil, dig up their mountains and sell the stones, fill in their seas and sell the fish, they still wouldn't be able to pay it back."

"It's their problem if they can't pay, it's my problem how much they want." Jiang Zhen stood up. "Go, find the Japanese who are still alive and have any influence."

Jiang Zhen's purge decimated the top echelons of Japan. After reading his confession on the radio, Prime Minister Koiso committed seppuku. Ministers at all levels either died or fled, and the entire national machinery was completely paralyzed.

In Jiang Zhen's purge, countless high-ranking Japanese officials were beheaded. Prime Minister Koiso committed seppuku after reading his confession on the radio.

The rest of the cabinet ministers either died or fled. Some were intercepted and executed on the spot by the canal gang's patrol team while on their way out, some committed suicide by shooting themselves in the basement, and some tried to escape the city by mixing in with the refugees, but were recognized and dragged back on the spot after being tied up.

The entire state apparatus had completely collapsed. Bai Fu, with great effort, led dozens of his men to search every nook and cranny. Finally, from an underground air-raid shelter piled high with moldy grain sacks, they dug out a clerk who was barely alive—his surname was Yamaguchi.

When Yamaguchi was dragged to the ruins of the capital, his legs were shaking uncontrollably, his knees were hitting each other, and he could barely stand. If it weren't for two men from the canal gang supporting his arms on either side, he would have collapsed to the ground long ago.

Jiang Zhen took the compensation list with zeros added from Master Feng's hand, casually tossed it aside, and the paper flipped in mid-air before landing with a thud on the paving stones in front of the mountain pass.

"From now on, you are the Prime Minister of Japan. This is the compensation list we have drafted. Go and gather the officials who are still alive and settle the accounts."

Yamaguchi bent down, his legs weak, making the movement extremely difficult; he sank down almost inch by inch—and picked up the piece of paper.

The moment his gaze fell upon that number, an absurd ecstasy and an even more absurd fear exploded in his chest at the same time.

The Prime Minister of Japan? Him? He was just a secretary, without even a formal seat in the cabinet meetings. His daily work consisted of serving tea and water to the ministers and taking meeting minutes. He never imagined that one day he would be able to sit in that position.

But now, this man, with a single sentence, has propelled him to a position he never dared to dream of in his entire life. At the same time, this number—a number that could cause any Chancellor of the Exchequer to have a heart attack on the spot—is also significant.

“Mr. Jiang… this amount…” Yamaguchi’s hands trembled so much he could barely hold the paper. “This amount is impossible. Even if we sold the entire East, every city, every street, every house, and every fishing boat, we still couldn’t raise that amount.”

"I asked you if you could raise the money?" Jiang Zhen looked at him, his tone calm. "I'm telling you, this is what you owe."

"But……"

"No buts!"

Yamaguchi opened his mouth, but found himself speechless. He wanted to say that there was a normal compensation procedure, but looking into Jiang Zhen's calm and unwavering eyes, all his words stuck in his throat.

“I’m giving you a week.” Jiang Zhen stood up. “Within a week, I need to see a repayment plan that you can deliver.”

Yamaguchi finally asked the question: "What if... what if you really can't produce it?"

Jiang Zhen glanced down at him.

"Guess?"

A week later, Yamaguchi reappeared before the ruins of the Metropolitan Government Building. Compared to seven days ago, he looked ten years older—his eyes were bloodshot and his eye sockets were deeply sunken. But at least his legs were no longer shaking, and he walked steadily, though each step was extremely heavy, as if invisible chains were fastened to his ankles.

He knelt before Jiang Zhen, carrying a business plan.

It details the existing national assets of Japan: every undamaged factory, every operational railway; foreign exchange reserves, unredeemed trade bills; overseas investments; and tax revenue projections for the next few decades, calculated based on the most optimistic economic growth rate, the most efficient taxation, and the minimum public spending—unrealistically inflated figures.

Yamaguchi and his team spent a week doing one thing: they dissected the entire country from top to bottom. Every province, every department, every bureau, every surviving civil servant worked day and night, calculating until their fingers cramped. They were trying to figure out how much money they could still squeeze out.

The conclusion is: even if you emptied the entire East, drained the national treasury, levied taxes to the limit, sold off all overseas assets at rock-bottom prices, and squeezed every last penny from the pockets of every citizen, it still wouldn't be enough to meet Jiang Zhen's demands. The shortfall was so enormous it was despair-inducing, like trying to scoop up an entire ocean with a ladle.

Jiang Zhen flipped through the plan, reading the entire table of contents from beginning to end. After looking at the figure, he threw it back to Yamaguchi.

"not enough."

Yamaguchi's head nearly hit the ground: "Mr. Jiang, we really can't squeeze a single cent out of you. You've already taken the gold reserves, and we're selling off our overseas assets, but even if we add it all up..."

"I didn't say you had to pay it all back at once."

Yamaguchi suddenly raised his head.

"The total number remains the same, but the time frame is extended."

Yamaguchi was stunned: "You mean..."

"Installment payment," Jiang Zhen said calmly. "You can decide how long to pay each year, but interest will be charged. However, there's one condition: the first payment this year must be made within three months."

Yamaguchi's heart skipped a beat. Installments? This meant they wouldn't have to pay that overwhelming amount all at once; it meant they still had some breathing room.

"Then... how many years will it be divided into?" Yamaguchi asked cautiously.

Jiang Zhen glanced at him but didn't say anything.

Yamaguchi understood instantly.

How many years? That's not a question he should ask. Nor is it a question he has the right to ask.

They had to pay it back every year, until the day Jiang Zhen said he had enough. No one knew when that day would come, and no one dared to ask where that day was.