Chapter 69: Wu De's New Assignment (Part 4)
"Ah De, isn't this a bit much?"
"You people—all bark and no bite," Wu De said coldly to Yuan Qiushi. "Someone sheds a few tears and suddenly you can't handle it? Whoever cries gets beaten harder. Beat them until they stop."
Yuan Qiushi was young and merciless. The stick cracked down without hesitation. Xiong Buyou bellowed: "No crying! Stand up straight!"
Wu De studied the five prisoners and understood exactly what they were. They couldn't even qualify as tenant farmers or long-term laborers—they occupied the lowest rung of old China's rural hierarchy: day laborers. A tenant farmer at least had shelter and a plot to work, even if it wasn't his own. A long-term laborer at least had a shed and enough coarse grain to survive. But these men had nothing at all—not a tile above their heads nor a furrow to call their own, never knowing where their next meal would come from. A flicker of pity stirred in his heart, but he crushed it immediately. Pity was a luxury the transmigrators could not afford. They had arrived in a time and place not their own, and everything they built would be paved with the blood and sweat of others. What did enslaving a few wretches matter now?
After the beating, the prisoners were completely cowed. They stood with heads bowed, not daring to look up. Each of them understood the situation clearly: this was their overseer now. Apparently they would not be killed immediately, which meant their future depended entirely on this man's whims. These pirates feared neither heaven nor the government—what were a few commoners to them? Killing someone would be no different than swatting a fly.
"Today marks our first meeting. From now on, you belong to us transmigrators." Wu De raised his voice so there could be no misunderstanding. "Whatever I say, you do. Work hard, and you will receive two meals a day and clothes on your back. Otherwise—" He let out a cold snort. "Starting tomorrow, Overseer Xiong will no longer translate for you. If you fail to understand me once, twice—I will forgive it. But the third time you fail to understand, you'll be dragged out and beheaded. What use do we have for such useless trash?" His words were deliberately brutal, and Xiong Buyou screamed the translation with matching fury, apparently determined to convey not just the meaning but the spirit.
Language was the greatest obstacle between transmigrators and local laborers. Wu De obviously couldn't keep the team's only translator at his side constantly. For rapid learning, harsh brutality would prove far more effective than gentle guidance.
Unease flickered across the prisoners' faces, but under his sweeping gaze, every head drooped in submission.
Hippo sidled up and whispered, "Is all this constant death-threatening really wise? What if they genuinely can't learn—are you actually going to kill them?"
Wu De shot him a look of displeasure and snorted. "Then we kill them."
Hippo felt a sudden chill creep up his neck. He knew all too well how human brutality could escalate when left unconstrained.
"Now for roll call." Wu De turned back to the prisoners. "When your name is called, you answer 'Here!' That is the first rule you must remember. Miss one call: forty lashes with the rattan cane. Miss two: eighty lashes. Miss three: two hundred."
"Wang Tian!" Wu De called the first name on his list.
"Huh?" came the confused response from a short man—barely 150 centimeters tall, probably in his early twenties.
"Say 'Here!'" Yuan Qiushi, perfectly in sync, brought the lash down hard.
Wang Tian, corrected by the rod, quickly fixed his mistake.
"Lin Xing!"
This one's voice was loud enough, but the pronunciation remained unintelligible. He stood taller than the others, with a stronger build. Though his head was bowed, Wu De still caught the trace of defiance smoldering in his eyes.
"I can't understand you." Wu De was determined to break that last spark of resistance. He waved his hand, and the beating continued until the prisoner managed something approximating a correct "Here!"
Examples set everything. The next three produced reasonably correct responses on their first attempts. Once the results were basically acceptable, Wu De led them to work. He would serve as both guard and supervisor—two birds with one stone. The construction site didn't actually need these few workers for the labor itself.
He deliberately positioned them near the machinery. At such close range, watching construction equipment at work was awe-inspiring even for modern people—let alone peasants who had never traveled beyond their county. Once they discovered that the transmigrators possessed not merely their lowly selves, but an overwhelming and irresistible power, they would become loyal. Eventually, they might even grow proud of the strength wielded by the very organization that enslaved them.
When the excavator roared to life and swung its massive arm toward them, all five bolted in terror—until Wu De stopped them cold.
"Running where? Get back to work!"
The prisoners fell to their knees, desperately pleading. Though their words were incomprehensible gibberish, Wu De understood perfectly—they thought the giant machine was some kind of monster. Only when he pointed to the transparent cab, showing them another pirate seated inside at the controls, did they finally grasp that it was operated by a human being.
Excavators, bulldozers, small dump trucks racing back and forth—the spectacle of mechanized construction was utterly overwhelming. By comparison, shoveling soil by hand and carrying it away bucket by bucket, these laborers were hardly better than ants.
With Wu De's fearsome presence looming over them, and Yuan Qiushi serving as his vicious enforcer, no one dared slack off. The prisoners worked with desperate zeal. After half a day together, they came to realize that Overseer Wu, despite his terrifying expression, was actually far better than the youth who seemed to enjoy beating them for its own sake.
At quitting time, Wu De led the prisoners to a separate shelter located within the watchtower's surveillance zone. The compound was surrounded by barbed wire—no need to worry about escapes. Hippo was waiting there with a medical kit. Based on his examination at midday, he needed to treat these laborers for various ailments. After forcing them to bathe again and boil their clothes, all five stood naked before him. Hippo took a ladle and poured slightly hot water over each man in turn, then scrubbed them hard with some kind of coarse grass brush. The five didn't dare even whimper.
"What are you doing to them?" Wu De asked.
"Treating their scabies infection. This opens up the affected areas so the medication can penetrate." Hippo explained as he worked, forcefully rubbing ointment onto their skin with gauze. "Sulfur ointment—I'd forgotten all about it until Director Wen reminded me. In the 21st century, scabies infections are practically unheard of."
He applied more of the pungent ointment. "Also, don't let them bathe for a few days until this treatment course is finished."
"Is it hard to treat?"
"Very easy, actually. But the damn thing spreads through skin contact, which makes it annoying to manage." Hippo himself was fully protected with gloves and a mask.
"Should I apply some too?" Wu De asked, suddenly worried. The condition seemed unbearably itchy—he'd watched these men scratching themselves raw all day.
"No need. Just bathe and change your clothes. Avoid any skin contact with them. Oh, and the straw they sleep on—burn it every day."
After finishing with the ointment, Hippo made the prisoners swallow a handful of small pills. Though clearly suspicious of the white tablets, they swallowed everything under the weight of Wu De's silent pressure.
"Pity I don't know traditional medicine or how to identify herbs," Hippo said, shaking his head. "I recall there were deworming prescriptions that could help."
"Fu Youdi."
"Here!" After an afternoon of conditioning, everyone now responded quickly to roll call—and they were beginning to understand at least some of what the pirate overseer said. The price had been paid in welted buttocks.
"You are team captain." Wu De's reasoning was simple. Fu Youdi was entirely unsuitable for the role. This native-born farmer was neither strong nor clever, and could barely string a coherent sentence together. As captain, he would inevitably fail to command respect. And that was precisely the effect Wu De intended.
"Me?" Fu Youdi's face was blank with confusion.
"Yes, you. From now on, you're responsible for distributing meals and assigning work. Any problems that arise—you answer for them."
Wu Nanhai had originally allocated portions according to transmigrator standards—200 grams of rice per main meal, roughly appropriate for heavy labor. But Wu De had no intention of letting the prisoners eat their fill. In his view, a full stomach should be a reward, not something given freely. He instructed Wu Nanhai to cut the portions in half.
"Will that really be enough?" Wu Nanhai asked doubtfully.
"That's exactly the point. Not enough is better. People with full bellies have a tendency to overthink."
"Not really—when I'm full, I just want to take a nap..."
"That's you. Add water. Yes, more water—make it seafood porridge."
When Yuan Qiushi brought the porridge in a wooden bucket, the rice had been transformed into a bucketful of thin gruel. Yet even so, when the lid came off, the prisoners stared in disbelief: snow-white rice porridge, with fish and shellfish floating throughout, its fragrance filling the air. Though Lingao was a coastal region, common folk rarely tasted fresh fish. At most, during the three busiest farming seasons, a landlord might steam a morsel of rank salted fish as a rare treat. If these men hadn't already been thoroughly terrified by Wu De, they would have pounced on it like animals.
They were issued rough wooden bowls and chopsticks from some unknown source. Meal distribution was now the newly appointed captain's responsibility.
"Anyone who causes trouble during meals doesn't just lose that meal—they go without food the entire next day!" Wu De dropped this threat and walked off without looking back. He understood human nature: even the most timid person, once given leadership's backing, would grow presumptuous. Especially when that power extended over something as vital as food.
(End of Chapter)