Courtyard Houses: Longevity Since the War of Resistance

"Dean, what are your instructions?"

A Japanese doctor wearing round-framed glasses saw the call bell ring and carefully pushed the door open to enter.

Without answering immediately, he slowly picked up a document, glanced at it a few times, and then slammed it heavily on the table!

"Useless!" I stood up abruptly, my voice rising sharply with anger. "What have you all been doing?! Look at the recent experimental data! The sample size is severely insufficient, and the quality is inconsistent! At this rate, when will our research ever make a breakthrough? How are we going to explain this to the military? How are we going to contribute medical expertise to the holy war?!"

The roar startled the assistant, who quickly bowed deeply, saying, "I'm so sorry, Dean! It's...it's our fault for not doing our job well."

"What good is an apology?!" I walked around the table, stood in front of him, and glared down at him. "The Empire is shedding blood and sacrificing lives on the front lines, while we're stuck in the rear, unable to even provide basic research support! Do you think you've lived up to His Majesty the Emperor's trust?!"

"Yes! Yes! Your subordinate knows his crime!" The assistant's forehead was covered in cold sweat, and he bowed even lower.

I took a deep breath, my voice softening but still icy: "Go, arrange a car immediately. I'm going to the military police headquarters myself. They always send over random, half-dead people; this won't do! Experimental subjects must be rigorously selected!"

"Yes! I'll arrange it right away!" The assistant was overjoyed and quickly went out to prepare.

Less than ten minutes later, a black hospital sedan pulled up in front of the building. With a grim face, I got into the car, accompanied by my assistant and two other hospital staff members.

"Go to the military police headquarters."

The car drove back towards the gray building.

This time, I went there openly and legitimately as a medical expert from our partner organization.

At the entrance of the bridge building, the guards saw the license plate and the face of Director Matsumoto that was revealed after the car window was rolled down. They skipped the routine questioning, simply glanced at the documents, and quickly let the car pass, even giving it a salute.

The car drove directly into the courtyard and stopped at the side gate of the main building.

A major was already waiting there, his face plastered with a fawning smile. "Director Matsumoto, you've come in person! I'm so sorry for not greeting you sooner!" He quickly stepped forward and opened the car door for me.

I got out of the car, straightened the hem of my suit jacket, and still didn't have a good look on my face. I just gave a faint "hmm".

"I heard that you're not very satisfied with the recent test subjects, Dean?" the major asked cautiously, observing the situation.

"It's not just somewhat dissatisfied, it's extremely dissatisfied! Major Ono, our cooperation is based on a shared responsibility for the Empire's medical cause! The people you sent are either too physically weak to withstand more than a few rounds of experiments, or they've already suffered a mental breakdown, rendering the data worthless. This is a waste of both of our time, and even more so, a waste of the Empire's resources!"

"Hi! Hi! I'm so sorry, Dean!" Major Ono bowed repeatedly. "It was our selection process that wasn't strict enough. We'll definitely pay attention to that in the future."

"The future?" I scoffed, interrupting him. "I need qualified test subjects right now. The latest research has reached a critical stage; we can't wait for your future!"

Major Ono looked troubled: "Among the people we've recently arrested, there aren't many who meet your requirements."

"Not many? Then take me to see!" My tone was authoritative, carrying the authority of a superior. "I'll choose them myself! You don't understand medicine; you have no idea what kind of physical condition is best suited for our research. Take me to the place where the prisoners are held, now!"

"This..." Major Ono hesitated.

Underground prisons, especially those holding serious offenders, should not be open to outsiders.

"What? Do I lack the authority? Or does your military police have some new regulations regarding our army hospital's cooperation?" I narrowed my eyes, my tone becoming dangerous.

"No, no, no! Absolutely not!" Major Ono quickly waved his hand. "It's just that the environment down there isn't very pleasant, and I was afraid it would offend your eyes."

"I'm a doctor, what haven't I seen?" My tone softened, but it still carried an undeniable air of authority. "Lead the way, Ono-kun. For the advancement of medicine in the Empire, this little bit of hardship is nothing."

"Yes! I understand! Dean, please follow me!" Major Ono finally relented and turned to lead the way.

We walked through the hall and down an inconspicuous staircase, where the guards became increasingly tight as we went down.

Upon arriving at the third basement level, the corridor was lined with heavy iron doors, each with only a small peephole.

In the oppressive silence, faint groans and coughs could occasionally be heard from somewhere.

Major Ono signaled the guards to open the doors to several of the cells. I went in and critically scanned the people inside.

Most of them were ragged and wounded, their eyes either numb, wary, or defiant. When they saw me, dressed in decent clothes and looking like a Japanese, enter, some shrank back, while others glared angrily.

My heartbeat remained steady, and my face maintained Matsumoto's calm, almost cold, professional expression. In my heart, I silently told them: Wait a little longer, hold on. Once I've completed my current task, I'll definitely come to rescue you.

He pretended to check the pupils and teeth of several people, pinched their arms, shook his head, and said to Major Ono in Japanese: "This one is too weak, this one is too old and has poor metabolism, this one has hidden injuries, they do not meet the requirements."

Major Ono stood by, smiling obsequiously and nodding repeatedly, "Yes! Yes! Dean, you're so professional!"

And so I continued my critical inspection. Finally, in a cell deep in the corridor, I saw Old Zhao. There were seven people in the cell, and in the other two corners, there were two more people, his comrades who had been arrested with him.

That's what my discerning eye told me too.

I walked into the cell, squatted down, and inspected the prisoners as if I were checking on other inmates. Then I stood up, dusted off non-existent dust from my hands, and said to Major Ono in Japanese, "These three will do. They're not exactly ideal, but they're better than the previous ones. The foundation is decent; they should be able to last for a few more rounds of experiments and collect valuable data."

His tone was as flat as if he were selecting lab rats for an experiment.

Major Ono glanced at Old Zhao and his two companions, probably agreeing that they looked more robust than the others, and quickly nodded, "Yes! Dean, you have a good eye! I'll arrange for someone to take them to the hospital right away!"

"No," I raised my hand to stop them, "I'm personally overseeing the transfer this time. Your people are rough and might injure the test subject, affecting the initial data. Prepare a sealed ambulance; my people will be responsible for the escort and handover."

"Yes! I'll arrange it right away!" Major Ono hesitated for a moment, but seeing my unwavering expression, he immediately agreed.

"Hurry up, I have a meeting this afternoon."

"Hi!"

They walked out of the cell and returned to the ground.

"Old Zhao, see you at the hospital." (From: Martial Arts Champion Su Qier)