Those few words seemed to hold some kind of magic.
Yue Qinhu, who had still been fiddling with a wooden gun, suddenly froze.
"Who is it?"
Xu Anbang's brow furrowed. "Explain!"
Lin Tiejun drew a deep breath and spoke rapidly. "That old bastard from Eastern Japan, Ito Yūgorō!"
"He's bringing a whole crowd of reporters and making a huge production of going to Modu to cause trouble for Xiaofei!"
"He's spreading lies internationally, claiming Xiaofei kidnapped and abused his great-grandson. He wants to nail Xiaofei to the pillory!"
Bang!
Xu Anbang slammed his cane into the ground, shattering the bluestone paving slab.
"How dare he!"
A terrifying killing intent erupted from the hundred-year-old general.
"Ito Yūgorō? That beaten dog who escaped during the Jiangcheng Campaign?"
"How dare he?"
"I just went to Modu to back Xiaofei up! Is that old dog blind?"
Lin Tiejun said bitterly, "Not only is he going, he's going to livestream the whole thing online... Public opinion is turning against Xiaofei..."
"Then we fight!"
Xu Anbang bristled with fury. "Mobilize the troops! Get the fleet over there! Let's see if he dares come ashore!"
While the two men were talking,
neither of them noticed
the startling change coming over the once vacant, confused old man in the wheelchair.
"Ito..."
Yue Qinhu lowered his head and murmured the name over and over.
The confusion gradually faded from his clouded eyes.
In its place came a crimson gleam.
It was a red steeped in mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
It was hatred carved into his very bones.
Decades could wear away his memories and eat away at his brain.
But some things had long since been etched into his marrow and fused with his blood.
The name of an enemy.
The blood of his comrades.
The