cicada

Chapter 1373 Sacrifice

"Bang~"

The iron door of the observation room was opened, and the Japanese guard strode into the room but quickly covered his mouth and nose with his hands, with a look of disgust on his face.

The reason is simple: the smell in the house is a bit pungent.

The priest was lying on the ground, with vomit and some unspeakable stains around his body.

——The toxins of the curare tree can directly attack the human gastrointestinal tract, causing vomiting and incontinence.

"Bagaya Road~"

The guard cursed under his breath, turned around, went out, got the water pipe, pointed it at the pastor and turned on the faucet. His movements were quite skillful, and it was obvious that this was not the first time he had dealt with such a thing.

Ten minutes later, the soaking wet pastor was carried out of the observation room and came in front of Okubo.

"Mr. Reverend, can you tell me now, was it really an accident that you found this place?"

Okubo asked without turning his head as he leaned over to do the experiment.

"Really, everything I said is true."

The priest replied weakly. He looked extremely weak and only managed to stay standing thanks to the guards' support.

As he spoke, his eyes swept around and he saw dozens of glass test boxes, each containing one or more mice.

The conditions of these mice were different. Some were lying on the litter and spitting blood, some were unusually active, and some were rotten all over and looked very scary.

Further away, behind a half-person-high insurance glass, a white prisoner kept hitting the glass with his fists.

Half of this man's face was intact, while the other half was severely corroded. His flesh and fascia were clearly visible. Amidst the muffled thuds, the glass was splattered with blood.

The two Japanese guards noticed that the pastor's arms were trembling slightly, and they were not surprised. They were also trembling with fear when they first saw the laboratory, or even worse.

Before long, a puddle of urine appeared under the loose priest's robe, which made the guard laugh.

Okubo glanced over here, a hint of disdain flashed in his eyes, and waved his hand to let the guard take the person away.

He was sure that such a coward would not dare to lie to him, just like the previous captives.

The pastor was dragged out of the laboratory by the guards and returned to the ground along the same route. A new human experiment was being carried out in the basement, and the pastor's arms were shaking even more violently.

After returning to the ground, the guards threw him into a cell and ignored him, but the prisoners in other cells immediately started shouting.

"Hey, new guy, what's the situation outside?"

"Damn Arthur, we are being treated as guinea pigs here, but he has become a guest of honor for the Japanese."

The prisoners shouted in unison.

The Arthur they are talking about is not the American Arthur, but Arthur Percival, Commander-in-Chief of the Commonwealth Forces in Malaya, Lieutenant General of the British Army.

At the end of the Malay War, the other side negotiated with Yamashita Tomoyuki and finally signed a surrender document, resulting in the capture of about 8.5 Commonwealth soldiers.

So the prisoners in the base had enough reasons to greet Arthur, even though the Lieutenant General's situation had nothing to do with the "guest of honor": the other party was also participating in forced labor in the POW camp.

The pastor struggled to get up from the ground, slowly moved to the ventilation window, and looked out through the iron bars.

The thin, pale-faced prisoners heard the noise and asked more questions, but the guards outside glanced at the cell and saw nothing move.

This scene would be repeated every time new prisoners arrived. The British prisoners always had unrealistic fantasies that Britain could easily defeat the Imperial Army and that the previous defeat was just an accident.

But the fact is that the British colonies in Asia were in total defeat, and even India, the jewel in the king's crown, was in danger.

The guards enjoyed seeing the prisoners' expressions when they heard bad news. In this hellhole, watching the prisoners make fun of themselves was one of the few pleasures they had.

"Well, the situation on land is not good. The Japanese are trying to attack Port Moresby through the Kokoda Trail in New Guinea. The fighting is fierce at the moment."

"The resistance in Malaya is getting weaker and weaker. We lack weapons, ammunition, medicine, and all the necessary materials to win. I think our war is about to end."

As the pastor spoke, the prisoners, who had originally been full of anticipation, suddenly fell into despair, with sighs and curses ringing out.

"Hey, soldiers, don't lose heart. Although the British lost, the Americans taught the Japanese a profound lesson."

"The Japanese lost four heavy carriers in the Battle of Midway."

After the pastor finished speaking, he stretched his hands out of the iron window, clenched one hand into a fist, and made a V sign for "victory" with the index and middle fingers of the other hand.

Seeing this, the prisoners followed his example, raised their fingers and sang "God Save the King", which made the guards unhappy.

Compared with South Korea's six-stick-beating per second in later generations, the Japanese stick skills were not inferior at all, and they beat the white captives until they cried out in pain.

The riot soon subsided. The pastor, who was hit on the head with a stick, leaned against the door and asked his fellow inmates a question: What is this place?

The cell was silent for a few seconds, and someone answered in a low voice: "Do you know what the Japanese did in Mite Island? Oh my God, now we are the experimental materials." The National Government once announced the information of the Kwantung Army's water supply and epidemic prevention troops, and Western newspapers also reprinted it, so it was no secret that the Japanese conducted human experiments.

As the topic was opened, another prisoner revealed that this place was the base of the Japanese Army's 9400 troops, and that Okubo, who was in charge of the laboratory, was cruel and so on.

The pastor listened carefully and then asked the prisoners what the Japanese had done to them.

Hearing this question, the prisoners responded with action. They stretched their arms and legs out of the iron bars. Most of them had pus-filled skin, and the stench of rot could be smelled from a distance.

The small number of people who do not have pustules are either lucky or have not yet undergone the experiment.

The pastor pressed his head against the iron window, constantly adjusting the direction of his observation, and finally saw the scenes on both sides clearly. He stretched out his arms and gently turned his clenched fist to the left and right.

Gradually, silence returned to the cell.

The pastor sat down on the spot, picked up a straw from the ground, dipped it in the blood from the wound, and wrote something on a piece of paper he had taken out from somewhere, with a solemn expression.

After a while, the whole piece of paper was filled with tiny red handwriting. The pastor solemnly rolled it up into a ball. After a rustling sound, he looked up at the blue sky behind the iron bars.

"so good"

Muttering something softly, the pastor swallowed a pill, curled up in the corner, muttering to himself, and his past experiences emerged one by one like a kaleidoscope.

He went to Southeast Asia during a famine and was tricked into working in the black gold mine in Borneo. He escaped death and came to Malaya, where he preached and adopted orphans.

Decades of life were quickly replayed in a short period of time. The pastor's pupils gradually dilated, blood flowed from his mouth, and his clenched fists loosened little by little, and finally fell down powerlessly.

In the dense forest, Margaret was making a trap with a dagger when her hand slipped and the sharp wooden thorn pierced her finger.

She sucked the wound gently and looked towards the direction of the Japanese camp again, as if she had a premonition of something.

Perhaps it was a coincidence, the sky, which was clear just now, suddenly became gloomy, heavy rain came in an instant, and visibility dropped sharply.

Near the Japanese camp, beside the ditch where corpses were being burned, Gui Youguang, wearing protective clothing, lay motionless in the bushes.

When it got dark, searchlights were lit in the camp, and several Japanese cooks staggered to the cell area carrying wooden barrels.

Gui Youguang suddenly opened his eyes in the darkness, and his bright eyes stared at the camp.

One minute passed, then two minutes passed, and the cook in charge of serving the food shouted, and several guards rushed over quickly upon hearing the sound.

Pushing aside the cook who was blocking the way, the guard found the priest lying in the corner with a peaceful expression, as if he was asleep.

One of the guards felt the priest's carotid artery, turned to his companion and shook his head, indicating that the target was dead.

"Report to Lord Okubo."

"Hai, these roads are really troublesome."

After a brief discussion, the guards found a stretcher and carried the pastor's body to the experimental area.

The 9400 unit has a heavily guarded camp. Apart from members of the unit, only the dead can leave the camp. But even corpses must be thoroughly checked before leaving.

Sure enough, upon learning that the prisoner just captured today had died, Okubo immediately arranged for his assistants to perform an autopsy.

Under the shadowless lamp, the blood that had not yet coagulated flowed freely on the dissecting table and finally slowly gathered into the drainage hole. The pastor lay on his back with a faint smile on his lips. Okubo's assistant felt a chill in his heart and quickened his hands.

Since the autopsy had been conducted before, the assistant concluded that the prisoner had died of a sudden heart attack and there was nothing abnormal in his body.

Outside the camp, Gui Youguang was focused and ignored the leeches that crawled onto the lens of his gas mask. The chance that the pastor had exchanged for his life only came once and it must not be wasted.

The heavy rain continued all night until it gradually stopped before dawn. When the first light appeared on the horizon, the guards carried the pastor's body towards the ditch.

The muddy ground was very slippery, and the guards fell several times in just a distance of a few hundred meters. The Japanese soldiers were so angry that they couldn't wait to throw the bodies into the ditch.

"Quickly~"

The guard leader gasped and ordered his men to burn the bodies quickly. The guards bent slightly and raised the oil barrel to pour oil, but their actions were interrupted by several gunshots.

In the blink of an eye, gunshots rang out all around the camp. Japanese soldiers were shot and fell to the ground from time to time. The guards in charge of carrying the bodies hurriedly found cover and lay down, looking around nervously.

While the Japanese's attention was diverted, Gui Youshuang, covered in mud, slid into the ditch and quickly crawled towards the pastor's body.

In the forest hundreds of meters away, bullets from a Type 38 rifle whizzed past. Margaret, who was hiding behind a tree, felt her shoulder go numb, and blood instantly dyed her sleeves red.

A member of the Da Army shouted: "Sergeant, the Japanese firepower is fierce, we must retreat."

Margaret gritted her teeth and wrapped the wound with a piece of cloth. She fired a few shots down the mountain and turned to order, "Shut up! Hold on for another five minutes."