Dragon Kingdom, Jiangcheng.
The night was deep.
Under cover of darkness, the Martyrs' Cemetery on the outskirts of the city looked especially solemn.
Deep inside the cemetery, before the memorial.
A cold wind howled through the pines and cypresses, drawing mournful whispers from their branches, as though countless fallen souls were murmuring.
A huge iron cage, custom-welded from steel bars as thick as thumbs, stood firmly anchored to the ground before the memorial.
Inside the cage.
An old Eastern Japanese devil huddled in a corner, trembling.
It was Ito Yūgorō.
Not a trace remained of his former dignity as an "Empire general."
His expensive suit was filthy and reeked. Dirt and tear tracks covered his face, and he looked more wretched than a roadside beggar.
Before him lay a bluestone slab half as tall as a man, along with a chisel and hammer.
A few crooked words had already been carved into the stone.
[Criminal Ito Yūgorō]
This was the "final judgment" Yue Xiaofei had devised just for him.
He would kneel here day and night, facing the gravestones of the compatriots he had personally killed...
And carve his own crimes, stroke by stroke, into this monument to his shame.
By day, he had to listen to the Dragon Kingdom army's charge bugle a hundred times.
At night, he could only fall asleep to the lights-out bugle, accompanied by endless fear and regret.
He got just one meal a day: a bowl of watery gruel and a cold cornbread bun.
Enough to keep him alive, but nowhere near enough to let him live well.
This torment of mind and body was crueler than any torture.
In just a few days, Ito Yūgorō had been reduced to a wreck, his mind on the verge of collapse.
More than once,