allonlinenovel Chapter 592: Washing away the shame with blood
Chapter 592: Washing away the shame with blood
The night was as dark as ink, covering the once prosperous Fuso Concession. Tens of thousands of Chinese soldiers moved through the ruins like ghosts, their footsteps echoing in the empty streets, making them particularly clear. They held torches, lighting up every corner, searching for those hidden Fuso expatriates and soldiers.
The air was filled with an atmosphere of oppression and murder. Even the faint night breeze seemed to carry a hint of blood. In this dead silence, sporadic gunshots were heard occasionally. They were the counterattacks of the Fuso Ronin, samurai, and the Chamber of Commerce guards in desperate situations.
However, their counterattack was doomed to fail. Their weapons, numbers and equipment were far inferior to those of the well-trained and large Chinese soldiers. Under the light of the fire, the figures of the ronin and samurai looked so lonely and fragile. They waved their swords and tried to resist the attack of the Chinese soldiers, but every charge was easily repelled.
The guards of the Chamber of Commerce also tried to protect their homes and compatriots, but in the face of powerful firepower, their resistance seemed so insignificant. Bullets poured down like a rainstorm, drowning their figures in a pool of blood. Some of them didn't even have time to shout in pain before they fell in a pool of blood.
The Fuso expatriates who hid themselves could not escape the fate of being shot. They might have hidden in ruins or in houses, but under the strict search of Chinese soldiers, these hiding places were soon exposed. They were pulled out one by one, and no matter men, women, young or old, they were ruthlessly killed.
The night gradually faded and the dawn began to appear, but the Fusang Concession was still shrouded in death and despair. The soldiers continued to search the streets, their eyes firm and cold, their guns tightly held, ready to kill any targets found.
Several major buildings had been razed to the ground by the bombardment, and the former consulate and gendarmerie had been reduced to ruins. Occasionally, some unburned flames could be seen dancing among the broken walls, as if telling of the tragedy of the previous night.
In the concession, blood flowed like a river and corpses piled up like mountains. On the streets, the bodies of Japanese expatriates could be seen everywhere. Some of them had lost their heads, some had their limbs blown to pieces, and some even maintained the posture of struggling before death. The air was filled with a strong smell of blood and gunpowder, which made people shudder.
Suddenly, a faint cry broke the silence. The soldiers looked in the direction of the sound and saw a Japanese woman with a three or four-year-old child with a bloody face kneeling in front of a group of soldiers. The woman's face was full of fear and despair. Her tears had dried up, leaving only helpless pleas.
"Please, let my child go! He is just an innocent child and knows nothing!" The woman begged in a trembling voice.
However, the leading soldier was unmoved. He glanced coldly at the child, then looked at the woman, and said in a cold and firm voice: "There are no innocent people in war. Although he is a child, he is also a descendant of the Fuso people. Let him bear the responsibility for the crimes committed by you Fuso people."
As soon as the words fell, the soldiers raised their guns without hesitation, ready to conduct the final judgment on the mother and son. The woman closed her eyes in despair, and tears fell again.
The soldiers faced this bloodstained, terrified and helpless child, and their eyes flashed with a trace of complex emotions. The child hugged his mother tightly, his knuckles turned white from the force, as if trying to use this meager strength to protect his only support. However, military orders were like mountains, and the order from the upper level was not to hold back a single one. Although a trace of sympathy surged in their hearts, it was immediately suppressed by firm discipline and conviction.
The psychological struggle lasting for a quarter of an hour made the balance in their hearts sway constantly. The innocence and pity of the Japanese children made them sympathize; but the rampage of the Kwantung Army in the Northeast reminded them of those innocent victims, and their hearts were filled with anger and determination. In the end, they still hardened their hearts and pulled the trigger, because they knew that this was war, it was cruel, and pity for the enemy was harm to themselves.
After one night, the Fusang Concession in Beijing-Hong Kong City was like a dead ruin, desolate and dilapidated. The former prosperity and bustle had long disappeared, leaving only a devastated scene.
The sun pierced through the heavy clouds with difficulty and sprinkled on the ruins, but it could not bring a trace of warmth. The streets were full of broken walls, broken stones and twisted iron bars scattered all over the ground, as if telling the tragic events of last night. Blood flowed like a river, and dark red bloodstains spread on the broken stone slabs, forming a series of shocking pictures.
The air was filled with a strong smell of blood and gunpowder, making people suffocate.
Even the occasional breeze could not take away the nauseating smell. Among the ruins, some unburned flames could still be seen jumping, as if they were mourning the dead souls of last night.
There is hardly a single intact building to be found in this ruin. The former consulate, gendarmerie and other chamber of commerce buildings have all been reduced to ashes, leaving only some broken walls and ruins swaying in the wind. The Japanese expatriates who once lived here have disappeared. Only some debris and relics are left scattered in the ruins, becoming a cruel witness to this war.
The scene in the Fusang Concession in Shanghai was indeed no less tragic than that in Beijing and Hong Kong, and even more tragic. This once prosperous area has now turned into a living hell, filled with the breath of death.
A deep pit with a diameter of tens of meters was dug out of the scorched earth of the Concession Consulate, and the piles of Japanese corpses inside were shocking. Some of these corpses were twisted and deformed, and it was obvious that they suffered great pain before death; some remained in a curled-up position, as if one could still see their despair and fear at the last moment of their lives. The large number of these corpses made it impossible to imagine what kind of tragedy had happened here.
On the streets, blood gathered into streams and slowly flowed into the sewers. This blood came from the brutal massacre last night, from those innocent Fusang expatriates and soldiers. Their lives were ruthlessly taken away on this land, leaving only blood and debris all over the ground.
The air was filled with a strong smell of blood, which made people sick. The buildings on both sides of the street were also severely damaged, with bullet holes and traces of fire on the walls. Some buildings had completely collapsed and turned into piles of ruins. In the ruins, some surviving Fuso people could occasionally be seen, fleeing in panic, trying to avoid this unprovoked disaster.
However, no matter where they fled, they could not escape the shadow of this disaster. The entire concession had become a land of death, and every corner was filled with the breath of despair and death. This cruel massacre not only claimed the lives of countless people, but also cast a shadow over this land forever.
Fu Jiang stood at the door of the president's office, took a deep breath, adjusted his emotions, and then slowly pushed open the heavy door.
In the office, Su Zhengyang was sitting at his desk, frowning, as if thinking about something. He looked up and saw Fu Jiang coming in. He immediately put down his work and stood up.
"Fu Jiang, you're here." Su Zhengyang's voice was a little heavy, but he still maintained his usual calmness.
Fu Jiang nodded, walked up to Su Zhengyang, and reported in a deep voice: "President, the mission has been accomplished. The Fuso Embassy, the two consulates, and the Fuso concessions in Beijing-Hong Kong City and Shanghai City have all been completely razed by us. According to incomplete statistics, the death toll of Fuso expatriates exceeded 30,000, and almost no one survived."
Fu Jiang stood in front of Su Zhengyang with a complicated expression on his face. He took a deep breath, and as if he mustered up his courage, he spoke hesitantly: "Mr. President, I... I am a little worried. Such atrocities may attract condemnation from the international community and peace organizations, and have an adverse impact on China's international reputation."
Su Zhengyang's face suddenly became serious, and he waved his hand to interrupt Fu Jiang's words.
There was a sharp light flashing in his eyes, as if it could penetrate all obstacles.
"Fu Jiang, you and I both know that the rules of the international community are never fair." Su Zhengyang's voice was deep and powerful, and every word revealed decisiveness and ruthlessness. "I will never forget Fusang's atrocities in China, and I will never forget the piles of corpses of my compatriots in the Northeast concentration camps. Those innocent lives, those compatriots who were brutally killed, their pain and hatred, can they be appeased by a few words of condemnation?"
He paused, and his tone became more resolute: "Fusang must pay the price for the crimes they committed. No matter how the international community views it, no matter what kind of infamy we will face, I am willing to bear it. I am willing to be called an executioner with blood on my hands, as long as Fusang can pay with blood, as long as their blood can wash away the oppression and humiliation that China has suffered over the years."
Su Zhengyang's eyes were burning with rage, and every word he said was like a hammer hitting Fu Jiang's heart, leaving him unable to refute. He could only stand there silently, feeling the powerful aura emanating from this leader.