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"It's a pleasure to meet you, please don't be nervous." Nunnally smiled and bowed. "Suzaku and I are wondering if Japan exists in that world too? Are they living well?"
Well, something seemed off from the very first question. Zhuque watched as the two soldiers exchanged a look that seemed to have eaten shit.
“I really don’t know how to answer this question.” Taylor squeezed out this answer through gritted teeth. “If I’m not mistaken, this Knight of the Round Table is from Area 11, right? Well, thank goodness you weren’t born over there, otherwise…”
“It seems no one has told you even a little bit about the history between the United States and Japan.” Harrington became slightly more polite. “It’s 1946 now, so five years ago, Japan launched a surprise attack on our American naval base in the Pacific, and that’s how the war started.”
"A war initiated by Japan?" Suzaku asked, puzzled. "Could you explain in detail?"
"I can only tell you what they did." Harrington smirked, his face full of disdain. "They sent six aircraft carriers and hundreds of planes to destroy the warships in Pearl Harbor and kill thousands of soldiers. At the same time, they annexed the islands of Southeast Asia and Australia west of the Pacific Ocean. Our American response was simple: You bombed my warships and killed my people, fine, come on, we'll fight back and repay you a hundredfold, a thousandfold."
Seeing that Nunnally and Suzaku remained silent, Harrington continued.
"To be honest, I really find it hard to understand the Japanese, because they are both hateful and terrifying. Whether it's infantrymen or sailors, I was especially afraid as a pilot, because if you parachuted, you would either be caught by Japanese soldiers on the ground and tortured to death, or you would be shot down by Japanese planes while parachuting in the air."
Suzaku's eyes widened, hardly believing that this was a fact from District 45.
"As for the marines who fought against the Japanese on the island, I really can't imagine how they spent each night..."
Harrington's eyes suddenly went vacant, he put his hands in front of his mouth, and his tone became much more subdued.
"On the island, they hid in the cold, damp trenches every day, and every night they held a cross and prayed that the Japanese wouldn't suddenly jump out and slit their throats, and even more so, that flares wouldn't suddenly go off, and they wouldn't face hundreds or thousands of madmen with white cloths tied around their necks and bayonet-wielding rifles charging towards the position..."
"A melee charge? Aren't you equipped with machine guns and cannons?" Suzaku asked, puzzled.
"You think the Japanese don't know? You think I can understand these guys who have broken through their physical and mental limits?" Harrington confronted Suzaku, trembling. "Wounded comrades can be killed on the spot. When they raise their hands to us, they're ready to detonate the grenades on their bodies. But when we storm into their general's command post, we find them lying shirtless in pools of blood. We can even find piles of civilian corpses on the sea cliffs, all of them committed suicide to refuse to surrender to us!"
"This..." Nanali and Suzaku's voices completely choked. They would rather commit suicide, rather lead unarmed civilians to their deaths than surrender and admit defeat. Are these really the Japanese?
“This is them, and this is why Japan must disappear from the world.” Harrington’s dim eyes still held the embers of last year’s fire. “They killed our doctors, so we’ll run over all their wounded with tanks; they slaughtered surrendered Allied soldiers, so we’ll wipe out all the Japanese floating at sea; they hid in the grass and caves and wouldn’t come out, so we’ll cook them with explosives and flamethrowers and feed them to the sharks!”
"This is too cruel!" Nanali frowned and her face turned pale. Suzaku couldn't help but stand up as well. "Why would this happen? Why would you do something so cruel?"
"What the hell did you say?" Taylor, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly jumped up. "The Japanese started this war with us, and they killed us Americans first. Are you implying that the Japanese were wronged? Let me tell you, my cousin was killed when he pulled the pin on a grenade while rescuing a wounded Japanese soldier!"
“Violence alone cannot solve problems, even in your world!” Suzaku raised his voice and argued forcefully. “The Japanese over there have been led astray by their leaders, so the solution lies within, with their leaders. Otherwise, the war will never end!”
“That’s right, we started changing things from the Japanese rule. We used bombers and bombs to burn Tokyo to the ground.” Harrington’s lips twitched wildly. “We wanted their Emperor to understand that how many Japanese devils hell he needs to fill is up to us Americans! You want a decisive battle on the mainland? Fine! That means your Honshu Island is the battlefield, and every single person in Tokyo is a Japanese soldier on that battlefield. Burning you all to death in the streets of Tokyo is only natural!”
"Wh-what? The entire Tokyo has been burned down?!" Suzaku was terrified. You know, the area outside the Tokyo concessions was still full of high-rise buildings.
"Don't look at me like that, I know what you're thinking!" Taylor ignored the warnings from the guards around him, slammed down his teacup, and said, "It's only right that we burn hundreds of thousands, even millions, of those Japanese to death, even if they're just holding a kitchen knife! Want to speak Japanese? Sure, go to hell! That's the only place you should be speaking it!"
"If life is precious and worth cherishing for people, then the Japanese don't even consider themselves human!" Harrington couldn't help but stand up and join Taylor in cursing. "We want the war to end sooner, but do the Japanese want that? Surrender is just a matter of a word, but they won't do it. Instead, in the last few months, they sent thousands of lunatics with bomb-laden planes to ram our warships. Did they even consider their own lives? They can't even be treated as human beings, yet they expect us to talk to them properly?"
"Because they knew their country was going to be defeated!" Suzaku was about to retort, "What's wrong with giving your last strength to your country when it's about to perish!"
"The fall of a nation? Bah!" Taylor almost struck out. "Japan launched a war of aggression, and in the end, they're the ones who get to swear to defend their country to the death? So you're just going to throw a tantrum and refuse to admit your guilt after failing to invade others? According to you, we, a bunch of soldiers whose motherland was invaded, are the criminals?"
"Have you ever thought about this?" Zhuque took a few breaths and organized his words, "If one day your country is invaded by an enemy many times stronger, wouldn't you do the same thing as them?"
"Damn it! If you can't even grasp the concepts of invader and defender, go back to school, you Japanese bastard!" Harrington was utterly enraged. "Didn't you say violence is wrong? Now that the powerful have started a war, you're not criticizing them? So you just side with whoever's in power? Then shut your stinking mouth, you dog slave! I have no interest in wasting my time on a worthless life!"
……
“Suzaku…” Turning around, Nanali had already slung the wheelchair over her shoulder, clutching her head in her hands, curled up in pain. “Enough, stop talking…”
"Ahem... Let's end our conversation here..." Zhuque looked very unwell and dejectedly raised her hand to the guard.
"Alright, I hope you remember what I said today, Mr. Suzaku." Harrington said before leaving. "By the way, let me answer your question: If another more powerful country invades us, we will become as powerful as our adversary before then, making them fear us and be afraid of us, and finally drown in our own blood the moment they dare to start a war."
"Since you're being so blunt, I won't hold back either." Taylor pointed at Suzaku's nose and cursed as he left, "Let me tell you, from now on, you can make me kiss mosquitoes, you can make me have dinner with cockroaches, you can even make me have sex with rats all night, but if you want me to call Japanese people 'people,' dream on!"
Chapter 255 Japan (Part 2) - Section 335
In the evening, after the soldiers changed shifts, two guards who had previously accompanied the governor and the Knights of the Round Table, one a fat man and the other wearing a red scarf, strolled in the corridor of the city hall.
“I must say, I’ve really seen something today.” The man with the red scarf touched his face. “The Seventh Knight of the Round Table being insulted like this by two prisoners of war is unprecedented.”
"Yeah, no one's ever cursed that Japanese guy like that before." Fatty almost laughed too. "This is fantastic news, though I feel a little uneasy..."
"how to say?"
"You know, Princess Nunnally and this person from Area 11 are both a bit too mild-mannered. I'm afraid it will be a problem whether they can suppress the Black Knights. Besides, these two American prisoners of war from Area 45 are too arrogant and fearless."
"Are you saying these guys from another world are unreasonable? Bullshit." The red scarf shook his head. "They already said that their side fought so badly with the 'Area 11 people,' especially that guy named Taylor, who has a blood feud with his family. If you were in their shoes, could you stand it when someone called the monsters in your eyes?"
"Heh, that makes sense. The more they jump around, the more true they are." Fatty got a little scared. "Hehehe, suddenly I feel so lucky to live here. If Area 11 here were like over there, I'd probably only be able to sleep in a safe every night..."
"First of all, the safe has to be big enough to fit all your flesh." The man in the red scarf curled up the corner of his mouth. "Speaking of which, the people of District 45 are not only quite creative in their fighting, but their cursing is just as hilarious. Does that mean that how bad your spit is and how fierce you are in a fight are directly proportional?"
"How about we try treating the people from Area 11 like this for the rest of the time? They're about to join the Japanese Special Zone, if we don't do it now, we might not have another chance later." Fatty suddenly got excited.
"Anyway, don't follow the example of those Germans. I can't say for sure whether the Aryan Special Forces will be disbanded by the Knights of the Round Table and the Governor."
At that moment, two other officers walked by, and I seemed to hear them talking about German civilians.
"Post this notice in the German residential area as soon as possible."
……
A few days later, the chill of the early morning on Honshu Island had not yet dissipated, and a “reception camp” on the outskirts remained silent.
Before starting their new lives in this world, the civilians captured from District 45 were all subject to unified management here, receiving regular rations of food and drinking water, and living under the watchful eyes of soldiers and concrete walls. If they wanted to live the life of ordinary civilians, they had to learn English and be sent to a certain place to work continuously for at least three months.
The internment camp basically had only one exit, one guard tower, one vehicle barrier, and four or five guards, which was enough to handle the entry and exit checks for this place.
Today, these guards were greeted by a new face—a white man riding a motorcycle stopped in front of the gate.
"Show your identity." The rider took out his ID card. The soldier looked at the name on it and then saw a Braille symbol for "45" in the lower right corner—this was a unique feature of ID cards belonging to people from District 45, which the general public was unaware of.
"What are you doing here?" Upon hearing this, the rider took the bundle off the motorcycle and showed him the contents.
"Oh? That's interesting. Let's go in."
As the German rode his motorcycle into the internment camp, the guards began to whisper among themselves.
"When was this order given? Are people from the legal District 45 now allowed to distribute leaflets?"
That's right, what was just shown to this soldier was reading material specially prepared by Britannian officials to discipline and appease the captured Germans, ensuring they followed the rules while encouraging them to live and work here. Previously, these tasks were handled by city hall officials; now, they're actually allowing people from District 45 to participate?
“This is probably to lower the guard of more civilians,” a soldier said. “It seems Governor Nunnally is indeed kind-hearted. Now that the people from Area 11 can go to the Japanese Special District, she plans to give these dissatisfied laborers from Area 45 more freedom and rights, is that right?”
……
Whether Germans will accept the relaxed restrictions is hard to say, and these leaflets being distributed everywhere are repeating the same pattern.
As the German civilians awoke from the dilapidated sheds and ruins, they saw the gentleman who had just ridden his motorcycle wearing a top hat, handing out strange documents to them.
"Greetings, esteemed German. I am from the Holy Britannian Empire."
"We are very sorry to have interrupted your normal life so abruptly. We now have an opportunity to give you a better living space. Starting from where you are now and at what time, you will say goodbye to your previous life."
The following content is relatively simple: it tells all Germans that from now on, they either have to stay in this prison-like place day after day, waiting for birth, aging, sickness, and death, or they can take the initiative to communicate with the staff by the gate, apply to join the workforce, and look forward to returning to a free life in a few months.
Of course, all freedom has its limits. First of all, this newspaper-like item must not be discarded, or you will be punished. Also, regaining your freedom does not mean you can go far away from here, much less return to your homeland.
And what about the ordinary people? Being locked up in a place that looks almost like a Nazi concentration camp is already terrifying enough, and now they have to work? Is it that the tables have turned, and now it's their turn to be tortured into human sticks?
Everyone has their own ambitions, and how they plan to live their lives afterward and what attitude they hold towards this empire will vary from person to person.
"Huh?" However, as they talked, a few civilians noticed something was wrong, because the leaflets they received were different from those of most people—the Britannian material had the lion and serpent shield emblem of the national flag printed on the front page, while the leaflets they held had the Iron Cross representing Germany.
Just as they were beginning to realize what was happening, the German civilian who was handing out the materials exchanged a glance with them, his eyes filled with tenderness and trust. He slightly removed his hat, bowed to them, and quickly rode away on his motorcycle.
Subconsciously, everyone quietly gathered together to read the letter written in fluent German.
……
"It's so lucky to meet you here, my compatriot."
"Most of you may already know about the existence of this country called Britannia. They have invaded our country and the world, and are plundering our people and wealth, while also depriving us of our freedom and future. They demand that we work for them, restrict our living space here, and are trying to assimilate us."
"Remember this: we are indomitable Germans. We must survive no matter what, and we must unite as one. We are not afraid of the unknown or the oppression of powerful forces. On the contrary, we who have come to this new world are all sparks, each with our own light and warmth. And when these sparks unite into a sea of flames, no one can extinguish them."
"Now, as a German who can live freely here, I am writing this for you, for all of you. Please believe me, believe what I am about to say. This is our common wish."
"First, this country has enough trust in us as ordinary citizens and will not come to us to cause trouble. Second, every single word in the leaflets they distribute to you is true. The fact that I can write these for you proves that even limited freedom can be fought for here."
“There is a very important point: here, alongside us laborers, there is a group known as the people of Area 11, who are extremely hostile to us, or rather, to all outsiders. They may be secretly playing their own set of bullying tactics within their so-called geographical sphere, harming our fellow citizens and robbing our property.”
"Please do as I say in the coming months: First, accept their labor requirements and English training. Don't worry, the next few months won't be too tough. Second, be vigilant in all aspects of your interactions with the people of District 11, and act collectively in case of any unforeseen events involving them. Also, remember, never initiate a conflict with the people of District 11."
"Finally, I urge everyone to abide by the regulations that Britannia has given us and not to provoke conflict with these invaders. Although this may temporarily restrict our bodies, it will not imprison our souls. I ask you again to believe me: our freedom and peace will one day come."
"—Respectfully submitted by the New World German Community Association"
……
Every living being is wary of the outside world, especially when it comes to an unknown and hostile place.
Some Germans kept these things on their person, while others secretly folded them into paper airplanes and threw them out the window during breaks from work in the factory.
Perhaps, everything that followed was just a coincidence.
“Let me tell you what Japanese kids need to eat to grow up.” Taylor was passing by the factory with a few soldiers behind him who were planning to wear uniforms and coast along. “First, you have to put your parents’ excrement and piss into a plate, then grab a handful of the most disgusting things and throw them in. After the meal, don’t forget to squat at the door and bark like a dog. OK, another shorty from the Pacific Ocean has grown up.”
The soldiers laughed without restraint, except for one person.
“I understand what you’re saying, Brother Taylor… but let’s not maintain this mindset even in Japan in this world.”
"Pah, what's that saying? Hell! Only in hell can you fucking speak Japanese, not here!" Taylor spread his hands arrogantly. "You can eat well, sleep soundly, and have a blast, but do you think Japanese can exist here? Are you out of your mind?"
"But the Japanese here are different from those back home."
"Bullshit! You have no idea how much that Japanese Knight of the Round Table has in his head... Oh my god!"
Taylor was just about to brag again about how he and Harrington had hurled insults at Suzaku when a paper airplane came flying right into his face.
"Hehehe, did you see that? Did you all see that?!" He grabbed the paper airplane and threw it in front of the soldier. "I said a few bad things about those Japanese, and they came after me with the Kamikaze pilots! How can I stand for that? Stand for my ass! From now on, if I see any trash from Area 11 causing trouble, I'll give them a good whack."
“Wait, boss, this paper airplane…” another soldier seemed to have noticed something, “It looks like it came from the factory next door. If I remember correctly, this is where the Germans we just captured worked, right…”
Everyone hurriedly opened it and looked at it; it was a leaflet from the German Mutual Aid Society, but not many people understood all the German.
"I think I understand the gist of it... These Germans seem to be sticking together for mutual support, and it seems they've fallen out with the people of Area 11?"
"What? Oh, great!" Taylor was overjoyed. "Let's fight! I love seeing these little devils get worse and worse off."
"Boss, didn't you just say that all Japanese people are the same in every world? A few years ago, it was Hans and them who were causing trouble for us."
"You don't know anything! These two brats never even managed to hold hands from beginning to end. Don't you understand what that means? Their Axis powers relationship is over!"
……
When it was time for the factory to close, Taylor and his group, wanting to have some fun, squatted down at the factory gate to watch.
"Hey, look at them." Taylor seemed a little envious. "How come they all look better here working than they do at home?"
“Maybe this is the evidence,” another guy chimed in. “It proves why this so-called empire can arrest us all and make us watch people on the streets, why others have this kind of power. Hey, I suddenly remembered that movie…”
"A movie? What are you talking about, Palin?"
“I remember there was a rumor in the unit before I was captured,” Perrin continued, “because so far no POW had managed to escape from Britannia, we all claimed that these extraterrestrials were cannibals, incredibly cruel, and that every soldier and civilian they captured would be devoured alive, so we fought like madmen… But today we realize that we are all living quite well here…”
Yes, looking down at their own gear and then at those German civilians with their spirited faces, who could still see any trace of war?
"So what does this have to do with the movie?"
"That was five or six years ago. You need to know how to curb the Nazi traitors' enthusiasm. One way is to make a movie and then smear their behavior in every way possible, without any regard for the consequences... We originally thought that the Jews captured by the Nazis were like those depicted in the movie, forced to work in the prison courtyard, forced to stand in a horse stance, never having a moment of peace..."
"Until that day, the gates of Dachau concentration camp were smashed open..."
……
The gap between reality and one's own speculation will always be the last obstacle before humanity can obtain the truth.
Yesterday, the enemy was portrayed as a ruthless devil, only to discover that their actions were unbelievable to the whole world—they were actually committed by human beings.
Today, we have vilified the enemy as a beast that devours flesh and blood, only to find that what he brings is more peaceful and prosperous than what we once possessed—this is the work of a “tyrannical” invader.
Is it our instinctive thinking, conditioned by our mind and body, that restricts our imagination and speculation? Or is reality not a grand drama of clear-cut love and hate, but rather more like an absurd farce?
Chapter 256, Section 337: The Lock-Breaking Begins