Chapter 26: [Wu De][y201]'s New Task (Part 4)
“Ah De, isn’t this a bit much?”
“You people,” Wu De said, his face a mask of contempt, “you talk a big game, always spouting off about slaughtering Japan and destroying the US, but you can’t stand a few tears?” He turned to Yuan Qiushi. “Whoever cries, beat them until they stop.”
Little Yuan, young and ruthless, laid on with his stick. Xiong Buyou roared, “No crying! Stand up straight!”
Wu De knew these men were the lowest of the low, short-term laborers with nothing to their names. A flicker of sympathy rose in him, but he quickly extinguished it. Sympathy was a luxury the transmigrators could not afford. They had come to a time and place that was not their own, and their new world would be built on the flesh and blood of others. What was the enslavement of a few men in the grand scheme of things? Besides, if they survived to see the great cause of transmigration succeed, they would probably boast of being the earliest followers of the dragon. Their descendants would be proud of their ancestors’ enslavement, writing books, appearing on television, signing autographs, praising the transmigrators as the inevitable tide of history. Whether they would be slapped in the face for it was another matter.
After the beating, the captives were subdued, their heads bowed, their eyes downcast. They knew this man was their master. It seemed he would not kill them, for now. Their lives depended on his whims. These pirates feared no law, let alone the lives of a few commoners. To them, killing a man was no different from crushing a fly.
“This is our first meeting,” Wu De said, his voice booming. “From now on, you are my people. You will do as I say. Work hard, and you will have food and clothing. Otherwise…” He snorted. “From tomorrow, Leader Xiong will no longer be here to translate. If I speak, and you do not understand, I will forgive you once, and twice. But if you do not understand the third time, you will be beheaded. What use are such useless men?” He spoke with a cold fury, and Xiong Buyou, with a roar, seemed to accurately convey his spirit.
Language was the greatest barrier between them. Wu De could not have the only translator in the camp by his side at all times. For rapid learning, brutality was more effective than patient instruction.
The captives’ faces were pale with fear, but they did not dare to look up.
He Ma whispered, “Is it really necessary to threaten to kill them? What if they can’t learn? Will you really kill them?”
Wu De shot him a look of disdain. “Then we’ll kill them.”
A chill ran down He Ma’s spine. He knew the depths of human cruelty that could be unleashed in a world without constraints.
“Now, roll call. When your name is called, you will answer ‘Here!’ This is the first rule. If you are not here at the first call, you will receive forty lashes. At the second, eighty. At the third, two hundred.”
“Wang Tian!”
“Huh?” The man who responded was short, no more than 1.5 meters tall, and in his early twenties.
“Say ‘Here’!” Little Yuan’s whip cracked down, and the man quickly corrected himself.
“Lin Xing!”
The man who answered had a loud voice, but his pronunciation was garbled. He was taller and more robust than the others, and though his head was bowed, Wu De could see a flicker of defiance in his eyes.
“I don’t understand,” Wu De said, his voice flat. He was determined to beat the last ounce of rebellion out of him. He waved his hand, and the beating commenced, continuing until the man could shout “Here” with the proper inflection.
The power of example is infinite. The next three men all managed a passable “Here.” When they had all mastered the word, Wu De led them to the construction site. He was both guard and supervisor.
He deliberately put them to work near the machinery. The sight of the massive machines at work was shocking even to modern men; to these natives, it was a terrifying spectacle. When they saw the excavator’s giant arm swing towards them, they scattered, until Wu De’s shouts brought them back.
They knelt and begged, their words a torrent of gibberish. Wu De understood their fear. They thought the machines were monsters. It wasn’t until he pointed out the man in the transparent box at the controls that they realized they were operated by men.
The excavators, bulldozers, and dump trucks, a symphony of mechanized construction, was a display of power beyond their comprehension. In comparison, their own work with shovels and baskets was like the scurrying of ants.
With a devil like Wu De and a ruthless thug like Yuan Qiushi at their side, no one dared to slack off. The captives worked hard. They soon learned that while Leader Wu was fierce, he was a far better master than the sadistic teenager who took pleasure in beating them.
At the end of the day, Wu De led them to a separate shed, within sight of the watchtower and surrounded by barbed wire. He Ma was waiting with his medicine box. After another forced bath and the boiling of their clothes, the naked men were brought before him. He Ma doused them with hot water and scrubbed them with a coarse grass brush. They endured the rough treatment in silence.
“What are you doing?”
“Treating scabies,” He Ma explained, rubbing a sulfur ointment into their skin. “I have to open up the infected areas so the medicine can penetrate. I would have forgotten about this if Wen Zong hadn’t reminded me. Scabies is rare in the 21st century.”
“Don’t let them bathe for the next few days,” he added. “Wait until the treatment is finished.”
“Is it difficult to treat?”
“No, but it’s highly contagious through skin contact.” He Ma was fully protected in his own gear.
“Should I get treated?” Wu De asked, a little worried. He had seen the men scratching themselves raw all day.
“You’ll be fine. Just bathe and change your clothes. And try not to have skin contact with them. By the way, the straw they sleep on must be burned every day.”
He Ma then produced a pile of small white pills and ordered the men to eat them. They swallowed the pills under Wu De’s watchful eye.
“It’s a pity I don’t know traditional Chinese medicine,” He Ma said, shaking his head. “I’m sure there’s a deworming prescription in there somewhere.”
“Fu Youdi.”
“Here!” After an afternoon of “training,” the men could all respond to the roll call. They were even beginning to understand some of the pirate leader’s commands. The price of their education was a collection of bruised and battered buttocks.
“You are the team leader,” Wu De said. He had chosen Fu Youdi for a simple reason: he was unworthy. The man was not strong, not smart, and not articulate. He would not be able to command the respect of the others. That was precisely the effect Wu De wanted.
“Me?” Fu Youdi was confused.
“Yes. You will be in charge of meals and work. If anything goes wrong, you will be held responsible.”
Wu Nanhai had originally allocated them the same rations as the transmigrators: four liang of rice per meal. But Wu De had other ideas. A full belly, he believed, should be a reward, not a right. He had Wu Nanhai cut the ration in half.
“Is that enough?” Wu Nanhai asked, concerned.
“It’s better if it’s not. People think too much when they’re full.”
“I don’t know about that. I just want to take a nap when I’m full.”
“That’s you. Add water. Yes, more water. Make it a seafood congee.”
When Yuan Qiushi brought the congee in a wooden bucket, it was a thin, watery gruel. But to the captives, it was a feast. Snow-white rice congee, filled with fish and shellfish, its aroma intoxicating. In this coastal region, fresh fish was a luxury for the common people. At most, they might be given a piece of smelly salted fish during the busy farming season. If not for Wu De’s menacing presence, they would have descended on the bucket like a pack of wolves.
They were given wooden bowls and chopsticks, and the newly appointed team leader was tasked with distributing the food.
“Anyone who makes trouble during meals will not only miss this meal but will also go without food for all of tomorrow,” Wu De said, his voice laced with menace. He then walked away, knowing that even the most timid man, once given a taste of power, could become a tyrant, especially when it came to matters of personal interest like food.