Chapter 109

Abe Miko no expression changed, terrifying everyone.

They understood why Abe Miko was angry—his own nation, once proud, had become another's subordinate, groveling for favor; how could he not be furious?

Fearing Abe Miko's anger, Professor Beishan hurried to explain: after WWII, Japan had grown weak and had no choice but to ally with America.

Upon hearing this, Abe Miko's furrowed brows relaxed, and he let out a long sigh.

"Japan has sunk so low as to rely on a nation barely two hundred years old—it's regressing with every passing day."

He looked at Director Takahashi and the others, filled with disappointment.

"Even if Japan grew weak, you should never become a dog that begs at another's door—where is your backbone? Has your backbone been eaten by dogs? Are you so willing to be someone else's servant?"

Director Takahashi, the imperial envoy, and other government officials knelt on the ground, trembling with fear.

They dared not look at Abe Miko; at this moment, they perfectly demonstrated Japan's apology etiquette—sitting on their heels, their torsos bent forward until their chests touched their thighs, the formal kneeling of shame reserved only for national catastrophes.

They could only find excuses to explain.

"Master Abe, back then Japan suffered total defeat; to recover and rise quickly, we had no choice but to ally with America—it was the fastest path. We were forced."

The Foreign Minister chimed in:

"Yes, back then Japan had just lost the war, the economy was in ruins, the people suffered, we'd signed the surrender treaty, and America kept pressuring us—facing internal chaos and external threats, we had no option but to grovel to America, to make America stop oppressing us, and to use America's resources to rapidly rebuild our strength."

Their words offered almost no room for rebuttal; no counterargument could be found.

Because their alliance with America was truly a desperate act.

After all, they had lost the war; to recover quickly, they had no choice but to endure humiliation—it was the fastest path, without exception.

Abe Miko shed his usual gentleness and spoke coldly.

"Forced? To rebuild national strength? So you chose to grovel, to bend your spines—is that it? Then let me ask you: you admit Japan attacked the Eastern… that nation during WWII, right?"

In his words, everyone keenly sensed that when mentioning China, Abe Miko spoke vaguely, almost afraid to say it outright.

Director Takahashi and the others nodded solemnly.

"Then let me ask you again: did that nation ever surrender when faced with invasion?"

"No."

"You say that nation was weak then—others had tanks and planes, they had millet and rifles; their national strength didn't even reach one-tenth of America's. If they were so weak, even if they won, they should have been badly wounded. By your logic, they should've allied with America to soar upward—after all, as the victor, they wouldn't be treated like the defeated, and would find it easier to flatter. Did they ally?"

This time, Director Takahashi and the others hesitated before answering.

"No."

Without the slightest pause, Abe Miko spoke again.

"Now, how has that nation developed? And how have we developed?"

They did not hide it; they honestly answered, laying out China's and Japan's current national strength and global standing.

As they spoke further, they slowly understood Abe Miko's meaning, their faces flushed crimson, their voices growing quieter.

"One is now among the world's top three, the other among the top ten—is this what you call rapid recovery and rise? They didn't surrender or grovel, and rose to the top three; what about you? Only the top ten. This fact lies before you—don't you understand yet?"

Everyone was stunned, as if struck by lightning, frozen speechless.

They had never considered this issue before; they'd always thought yielding under pressure was harmless, even wise—but this wise choice had brought a far worse outcome than the "unwise" one.

Yes, why?

As high-ranking members of society, they naturally realized the reason immediately.

At this moment, Abe Miko spoke slowly:

"Actually, your actions weren't wrong—temporarily groveling for development is understandable. After all, in the end, you only lost your backbone and dignity; at least you're still alive."

"But have you ever considered: once a person loses dignity and backbone, even if alive, can they still be called human?"

"Do you know why humans walk on two legs, not like other animals on four?"

Everyone instinctively looked over.

At the same time, Abe Miko's voice rang out:

"Because we must hold our spines straight! We are the masters of this world, the spirits of all things, those who stand with heads touching heaven and feet planted on earth—if we crawl, if we bend our spines in servile acts, are we still human? No—we are not human!"

His words made Director Takahashi and the others shudder.

Recalling Japan's ancestors, struggling through the Paleolithic era, farming with fire and blade, unifying the land during the Warring States period, sailing east in peace to learn…

Compared to their ancestors, they blushed with shame.

Professor Beishan, eighty years old, trembled—not from fear, but from understanding: their actions were nothing but bending their spines. What difference was there between them and four-legged beasts that walked with bent backs? None.

Perhaps this was what it meant to live eighty years and become a dog…

"Sorry, I haven't spoken about Japan in so long—I said too much. Don't take it to heart. This is your era; times change, methods change. The path is yours to walk. Don't let my words confuse you. Just think of me as a madman rambling."

Abe Miko smiled faintly, his gaze gentle.

As if the earlier scene had never happened.

Had it not been for their backs soaked in sweat, they would have thought it all an illusion.

Just then,

"Still, even though this is your era and the path is yours, this madman still despises America—for threatening Japan, stationing troops on our soil to flaunt power, thinking it's number one and can do as it pleases. I really want to spit."

Then, amid the crowd's confusion and odd stares, Abe Miko asked Professor Beishan:

"Young man, could I ask which direction America lies? And does America have a capital? Does its capital have symbolic landmarks like ours?"

Professor Beishan extended his hand, pointing toward the sky outside the hall.

That was the direction of Beimeizhou, where America lay.

Knowing Abe Miko knew nothing of the modern world and hadn't returned in over a thousand years, Professor Beishan opened a world map on his phone, showed him America's location, and explained its states and nation.

Not long after,

Abe Miko's finger rested on a photo of the Statue of Liberty on the phone.

"This is America's iconic statue?"

'Yes.'

Standing up straight, Abe no Takeyama Maro walked out into the courtyard and smiled: 'So, uh, it's fine if I spit, right?'

Everyone froze.

Tsuchimikado Kenji and Takahashi Director exchanged glances.

'Fine, fine, please go ahead,' Tsuchimikado Kenji said, not caring—in fact, he hoped the man would spit right into the courtyard; this was transcendent saliva, who knew how extraordinary it might be?

Don't mythological tales often say that immortals are treasures from head to toe, that even a single drop of blood can extend one's lifespan?

'Heitui!'

Abe no Takeyama Maro spat a mouthful of saliva.

In an instant.

Tsuchimikado Kenji and the others either stood stunned or widened their eyes, utterly bewildered.

What's going on? Why aren't you spitting on the ground—why are you spitting into the sky…?

That's way too flashy.

Did people in ancient times always spit upward?

…