Chapter 383: Confronting the Japanese Devils, I Am Serious

The Ambassador's Residence.

MacArthur was completely submerged in the hot spring pool, enjoying the wonderful sensation brought by the rising steam.

He absolutely loved the Ghost Island.

Just thinking about their Emperor bowing and scraping, trembling in front of him.

Those cabinet ministers were obedient to his every command.

With just a casual swing of a baseball bat, he made those samurai who shouted about honor obediently hand over their samurai swords, fighting like clowns on the baseball field for his own viewing pleasure.

To hell with the Bushido spirit, it's all trash!

Every time he heard the people of the Ghost Island praising him as if he were their own reborn parent.

Of course, there were also those letters that arrived like snowflakes.

Countless beautiful, gentle women, begging and praying for the wish to serve him.

He would always feel a sense of pride welling up.

On this island.

He was the omnipresent, omnipotent deity in the hearts of everyone.

He was the supreme existence that transcended the Sun Goddess and the Emperor.

It was he who pushed through the constitution, abolished the nobility, implemented land reform, and reformed education, thoroughly transforming this country.

He alone enjoyed the accolades of this territory.

This kind of satisfaction was something Du Lumen would never be able to experience.

Whenever he thought of the President, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and those idiots at the Morgan consortium, MacArthur would get furious.

These sons of bitches actually lumped him together with that stupid fellow Patton, and what was even more annoying was that Du Lumen, under the guise of disarmament, cut nearly two hundred thousand of his men, almost causing him to become a commander without an army.

They even wanted to have a piece of trash like Wainwright, who had been captured by the Japanese army, replace him.

It was simply wishful thinking.

Not only that, the media controlled by the Morgan consortium spread unfavorable public opinion about him in the country all day long.

"FUCK!"

Thinking of this, MacArthur pulled the towel covering his face and slammed it fiercely into the hot spring pool.

"Darling, what's wrong with you?"

A beauty with a plump figure and fair skin, wearing a swimsuit, asked from beside him.

She was none other than Hara Setsuko, known as the number one beauty of the Ghost Island.

"I'm a bit fired up right now," MacArthur said, clenching his pipe, his cheek muscles taut.

Hara Setsuko understood immediately and helped him sit on the edge of the pool.

A moment later.

Adjutant Holsen walked in: "General, your dinner party is ready. This is the guest list; please take a look."

He directly ignored Hara Setsuko, who was working hard; he had long since become accustomed to it.

MacArthur took a look and tapped his pipe against the name of Hong Zhiyou:

"Who is this?"

"He is a good friend of Commander Kirk and General Randall.

"He is here representing Jiang.

"Jiang's son and Kong Lingkan are currently in an internal power struggle.

"Right now, the food supply on Wan Island is tight, and the President has stopped large-scale aid to them. Hong Zhiyou is the representative they sent; he is likely here to negotiate for aid.

"If you don't want to see him, I will remove his name."

Holsen said respectfully.

He knew very well that the General had always advocated for military aggression to control Wan Island, while Du Lumen was using and exhausting Wan Island.

Jiang had also been very tough on MacArthur's past stance.

He refused to let the U. . military advisory group participate in specific command.

He refused to let the U. . military station troops on a large scale on the island and participate in government management affairs.

And MacArthur and Du Lumen also found Wanbei too dilapidated, so they hadn't even bothered to send an ambassador there yet, with only a few counselors occasionally walking about.

Now that Jiang had sent someone to beg for aid, it would be strange if the General agreed.

"I heard Kirk bought a house in New York?" MacArthur asked suddenly.

"No.

"It wasn't a house; he bought a building, right near the New York Times," Holsen replied.

"This person once helped the Du Lumen military aid faction gain an advantage in the Senate.

"It was that international espionage case.

"He has a very deep relationship with the Seventh Fleet."

Holsen added another sentence.

"Interesting.

"Let this Hong..." MacArthur stumbled a bit.

"Hong Zhiyou!" Holsen replied quickly.

"Right, let this Hong Zhiyou come over; I want to meet him," MacArthur laughed.

He closed his eyes and let out a slight, pleasurable sigh.

Hara Setsuko stood up with a flushed face, said nothing, bowed to the two of them while covering her chest, and wiggled her curvy hips as she left.

"General.

"The special envoy sent by the Kong family has been in contact with Sakata Toshio many times.

"The Japanese cabinet represented by Ikeda Sugiue seems very afraid that you will cooperate with Hong Zhiyou and divert the food from the Ghost Island.

"What do you think..."

Holsen secretly glanced at Hara Setsuko's curvy hips and continued.

"These bastards, crushing them is just like crushing an ant.

"But let him be.

"Let's see Hong Zhiyou's performance tonight. If he can't even deal with a few dogs, there's no point in talking," MacArthur sneered arrogantly.

"Yes," Holsen acknowledged the order.

Seven o'clock in the evening.

Hong Zhiyou changed into a very gentlemanly white suit and carefully groomed his handsome pompadour.

Wan An was in full military uniform.

The hat and the party emblem on his chest were polished to a high shine.

"Wan An, how are your skills?" Hong Zhiyou asked while adjusting his tie.

Wan An gave a cold smile.

Without even looking, he casually grabbed a glass soda bottle from the table and flicked it out.

The soda bottle had not yet landed.

With a flick of his hand, the lighter on the table flew out.

*Chi.

A piercing sound suddenly rang out.

The lighter seemed to have eyes.

*Pa!

The soda bottle, flying three meters away, shattered at the sound.

Damn!

Hong Zhiyou could now be considered half a martial artist, but his eyesight and hand speed were definitely not at the level of Wan An's.

"Are you good at boxing and weapons?" he asked again.

"Of course.

"I once studied under Cao Yanhai, and later self-studied some lethal techniques. I wouldn't dare say I'm on par with those martial arts masters, but ordinary people are no match for me.

"What, are we having a duel tonight?"

Wan An narrowed his eyes and asked proudly.

So he was a disciple of a master; Hong Zhiyou felt relieved. No wonder he could be the chief guard for Jianfeng; he must have some real skills.

"That's right, we are going to a dinner party tonight. With the Japanese's character, they will definitely challenge you.

"And since they call it a challenge, it will inevitably be a life-or-death match.

"You are Comrade Jianfeng's chief guard; if you fall here, I won't be able to explain it, and it would also disgrace the dignity of the Party and the State.

"I advise you to think twice.

"You don't have to go!"

Hong Zhiyou secretly tried to provoke him.

Without Wan An to take the hit, those Japanese mangy dogs would definitely challenge him directly.

"Secretary Hong is underestimating me too much.

"Isn't it just Bushido?"

"I could crush them with a flick of my hand!"

Being looked down upon by him, Wan An could not help but feel somewhat angry.

"Very well, then I shall rely on Chief Attendant Wan." Hong Zhiyou nodded.

Eight o'clock.

Hong Zhiyou arrived at MacArthur's official residence with a graceful air.

A European-style party.

The fragrance of fine wine, pastries, and snacks mingled with the scent of women's perfume and face powder; the air was so sweet it was cloying.

Hong Zhiyou wore a smile, looking at those fat, short Japanese guests, his eyes filled with contempt.

"Hong, come over here, let me introduce you."

Randall took the initiative to step forward and back Hong Zhiyou up, introducing him to the high-ranking U. . military officers present.

This made Ikeda Sugiue and the others on the side extremely furious.

"Hong, this is Minister Ikeda Sugiue of the Cabinet."

"This is Mr. Wu Fangzhi, special envoy of Mr. Kong."

"And this is Deputy Leader Sakata Toshio of the Yamaguchi-gumi."

Randall introduced them intentionally.

"Mr. Hong..." Out of respect for Randall, Ikeda Sugiue and the other two squeezed out a smile, stood up, and raised their glasses.

Hong Zhiyou, however, did not even glance at the three of them, turning his head to walk to the other side.

Since they were enemies, there was no need to give them any face.

Moreover, Hong Zhiyou had no intention of doing business with the Japanese.

A person's energy is limited.

He had plenty of ways to make money; there was no need to act like brothers with this bunch of animals.

"Baka!"

Ikeda Sugiue sat down, slamming his wine glass heavily onto the table.

"You see that, Ikeda-kun? On your own turf, the man can't even be bothered to look you in the eye," Wu Fangzhi said with a sarcastic, mocking tone.

"I must eliminate this brat tonight!"

"Asano-kun!"

"Cut him down for me later."

Ikeda Sugiue glared viciously at a thin, middle-aged man behind him who was dressed in Japanese samurai attire with disheveled hair.

"Hai!"

The man nodded coldly.

Soon.

MacArthur and Hara Setsuko arrived side by side.

This "Retired Emperor" of the Ghost Island puffed on his pipe, scanning the crowd with an arrogant, all-encompassing gaze.

Wherever his eyes landed, Ikeda Sugiue and the others lowered their heads; not one dared to meet his gaze.

The women even knelt on both knees.

Looking across the hall, they were all like dogs.

The U. . military at this time, especially men like MacArthur, certainly had the capital to be proud and arrogant.

Hong Zhiyou, however, stood there calmly.

He knew that deep down, these guys were all just opportunists.

All that talk of being high and mighty was fake; damn it, if you have money, you're a friend, and there's good wine to be had.

And he happened to be exactly the kind of friend MacArthur was looking for.

"You are that friend of Randall and Kirk?" Seeing Hong Zhiyou's gaze like a torch, devoid of any fear or reverence, MacArthur was appreciative but also felt a bit annoyed.

"I am also a friend of yours, General," Hong Zhiyou said in fluent English.

"Is that so?"

MacArthur chuckled, walked straight to the head of the round table, and sat down.

Hara Setsuko sat next to him.

She was a bit taller than the average Ghost Island woman, with a broader frame and a very voluptuous figure; her features were open and grand, and with her fair skin, she had a bit of a Central European mixed-race feel.

Compared to the aesthetic standards of his countrymen, she might not be considered outstanding, or even beautiful.

But she was certainly to the taste of the Americans.

As for being the "Number One Beauty," Hong Zhiyou thought it best to forget it.

"Friends, let's begin."

MacArthur was the first to cut into his steak.

Only then did the others begin.

MacArthur was very talkative and would occasionally crack a joke; the atmosphere of the dinner was quite good.

Amidst the laughter and cheer.

MacArthur gave a look to Holsen, who was at his side.

Holsen secretly nudged Ikeda Sugiue with his elbow.

"Mr. Hong."

"I hear your sister is a Red, and many of your friends are Reds too."

"And you are here now sent by Jiang."

"I wonder, which country do you actually represent?"

Ikeda Sugiue said.

"Ikeda-kun, it seems your memory is not very good."

"The Cairo Declaration and the Potsdam Proclamation clearly state that the Chinese territory you stole, 'including Wan Island,' must be returned."

"Wan Island is naturally a part of China."

"Where does this talk of 'which country' come from?"

"Ikeda-kun, I originally thought you were very stupid."

"Now it seems you are indeed even more stupid than I imagined."

Hong Zhiyou spoke with resounding force, squinting his eyes and laughing with disdain.

As he spoke, he looked at MacArthur: "The General is a meritorious official of the anti-fascist cause and a promoter of the Proclamation and Declaration; you should know this better than they do."

MacArthur, who was swirling his red wine, suddenly stopped; he felt a jolt of alarm at how sharp this was.

He had originally intended for Ikeda Sugiue to humiliate and suppress Hong Zhiyou, and incidentally stir up trouble between Hong Zhiyou and the Nationalist Government, to weigh this fellow's worth.

He had not expected Hong Zhiyou's eloquence to be in no way inferior to Gu Weijun.

If he agreed, Ikeda would lose face.

If he did not agree, that would be a denial.

Between his own face and the Japanese's, he smiled without hesitation:

"That is correct, Wan Island is a part of China, and there is only one China in the whole world."

"Thank you." Hong Zhiyou raised his glass to him elegantly.

"Ikeda-kun, aren't you going to apologize to Mr. Hong?" Holsen stepped in to smooth things over.

"Damned Chinese."

"You actually dare to say we are the defeated?"

"We were defeated, but we were defeated by the Commander's hand, defeated by the atomic bomb; what does that have to do with you Chinese?"

"You are nothing but the 'Sick Man of East Asia' who was nearly ruled by us."

Ikeda Sugiue was somewhat intoxicated and began to shout.

"Ikeda-kun."

"Dignity does not lie in the volume of one's voice, but on the edge of the sword."

"Truth is always only within the range of the cannons."

"Ask your Okamura Yasuji."

"Ask your Tojo Hideki."

"They will give you the answer."

"Since the Han and Tang dynasties, you haven't even had the qualifications to be a vassal state of China; now, you are still a total failure and a clown."

"At least you stole some of our culture."

"Act a bit more like a gentleman, act a bit more like a man."

"Defeat is defeat; is it really that hard to admit reality?"

Hong Zhiyou laughed aloud and pulled that famous newspaper from his pocket.

In the photo, their short, thin Emperor Hirohito, radiating cowardice, stood trembling beside MacArthur.

There was no help for it; Hong Zhiyou had originally looked for the newspaper showing the Japanese submitting the instrument of surrender.

But He Yingqin was truly too spineless; his bowing and scraping posture was truly not fit to be shown, and it failed to achieve the desired impact.

"Baka!"

Ikeda Sugiue and the crowd of Japanese were so angry their lungs were about to explode.

However, in front of MacArthur, not a single one dared to act out; they could only clench their fists in secret, trembling all over, suppressing the rage in their hearts.

Because to express their protest would be to oppose their great master, MacArthur.

This was something Ikeda and the others absolutely dared not do.

MacArthur also leaned back in his chair, clutching his belly and laughing out loud.

The Japanese, after all, were meant to be humiliated, and this photo in particular was a "masterpiece" he would be proud of for the rest of his life.

"Alright, Minister Ikeda, you are the defeated nation, admit it." MacArthur finished laughing and pointed at Ikeda Sugiue.

"Yes, sir." Ikeda lowered his head in humiliation and said.

"Mr. Ikeda.

"Since Mr. Hong says the Chinese are not the 'Sick Men of East Asia,' why not use your Bushido to challenge him a bit?" Wu Fangzhi suggested.

"Are you not Chinese?" Hong Zhiyou had never seen such a shameless person.

"I am a North American." Wu Fangzhi shrugged his shoulders quite proudly.

"You dog of a traitor!" Wan An, standing behind Hong Zhiyou, snorted coldly.

Wu Fangzhi's expression was calm, looking quite pleased with himself.

"Hong Zhiyou.

"Do you not pride yourself on being Chinese?

"Do you dare to spar with our Bushido and see who is the true powerhouse of East Asia!"

Ikeda Sugiue demanded.

"Of course.

"But sparring is boring and doesn't allow one to go all out; I suggest a duel to the death instead." Hong Zhiyou said confidently.

"A battle to the death?"

The crowd present was in an uproar.

"What, you don't dare?" Hong Zhiyou pressed aggressively.

"Abominable!

"Asano-kun, bring out the glory of the samurai and fight to the death." Ikeda Sugiue ordered, then he whispered a few words to Holsen.

Soon, guards brought over Asano Shinichi's katana.

MacArthur was just worried about having no show to watch, so he immediately left his seat and had people move the tables to clear a wide space.

"Wan An, slaughter him." Hong Zhiyou said.

Wan An, dressed in military uniform, walked into the center of the arena.

"Mr. Wan, what weapon will you use?" Randall asked.

"Isn't Bushido good at playing baseball?

"I'll just use a baseball bat."

Wan An said in a booming voice.

"Baka, you abominable Shina person!"

Asano Shinichi was so angry he gritted his teeth.

Who didn't know that MacArthur had traded their katanas for a single baseball bat?

This brat was really hitting a sore spot; he was such a bastard.

Soon, someone brought over a baseball bat.

The two sides stood two meters apart, and as MacArthur waved his hand, Asano Shinichi made the first move, holding the sword with both hands.

The cold, gleaming katana slashed diagonally toward Wan An.

Wan An had quick eyes and dodged to the side.

When the opponent used both hands to exert force, their body was bound to tilt.

Wan An took the opportunity to smash his bat toward Asano Shinichi's left shoulder.

His strike was powerful, fast, and accurate.

Asano Shinichi's shoulder was struck as if by lightning; amidst the piercing pain, he stumbled two steps, barely able to keep a grip on his sword.

Before he could recover, a sharp glint appeared in Wan An's eyes; he strode forward like a galloping horse and struck again with the bat.

Asano Shinichi blocked, but the force sent him and his sword reeling, nearly causing him to fall on his backside.

Seeing his stance was unstable.

Wan An took another step forward and shouted: "Die!"

The baseball bat came down on his head.

Crack!

Asano Shinichi's head was smashed to pieces like a watermelon, and he died on the spot.

"A piece of trash that can't take a single blow.

"Go back to playing your baseball honestly."

Wan An sneered, threw away the baseball bat, and returned to Hong Zhiyou's side.

"Asano-kun.

"You dare to kill? Someone, arrest him."

Ikeda Sugiue completely lost control of his emotions and started screaming.

The other samurai guards and Japanese officials present glared in anger and surrounded Hong Zhiyou and his companion.

"Sigh.

"You really are sore losers.

"But it's not your turn to run wild or give orders here." Hong Zhiyou said dismissively.

"Minister Ikeda!

"Your behavior is very ungentlemanly." MacArthur's face darkened, and he said with displeasure.

"Yes, sir."

Ikeda Sugiue glared fiercely at Hong Zhiyou and his companion before retreating to the side.

"Everyone, tonight's banquet was very exciting.

"I am a bit tired, so let's end it here."

MacArthur clapped his hands, glanced at Hong Zhiyou, and walked away with his pipe in his mouth.

"Mr. Hong, I bring you greetings from Miss Keiko.

"The night in Tokyo is dark, be careful."

Sakata Toshio walked over and chattered on for a while.

Hong Zhiyou could not understand Japanese and could not help but frown.

Wu Fangzhi walked over and translated a few sentences with a sarcastic tone.

Then, the group left with smiles.

"Hong, come to my military camp; it's not safe here." Randall said.

"No.

"Proceed according to the plan; whoever wants my life, I will take theirs!" Hong Zhiyou said coldly.

(End of chapter)