Pathway to Japanese Literature

1

Summer came to Demon Capital Shanghai.

Yet Dr. Kin kept busily turning a large hand-cranked generator without sweating a drop.
The indoor thermometer indicated precisely thirteen degrees.
The room felt remarkably cool.
And with good reason—Dr. Kin’s laboratory lay two hundred meters beneath Shanghai, where those bothersome cosmic rays had been completely blocked out.

The ceiling buzzer emitted a shrill screech.

"Oh, another visitor?"
"With all these damn interruptions, I can't get any research done!"

Dr. Kin twitched his usual unkempt beard like a rabbit's tail and glared at the ceiling.

"Doctor, you have a visitor."
"They claim to be a secret envoy from Your Excellency Shō Kaiseki."
"Yes, I have just examined their body with X-rays and found they are carrying no dangerous weapons."
"What are your instructions?"

Though their form remained unseen, the voice-only secretary relayed the matter.

“Do they appear to have brought any gifts?”

“They appear to be carrying a large cloth-wrapped bundle on their back.”
“It appears to be a sheep or similar creature—when we X-rayed it, a long spinal column became visible.”

“I’m not particularly fond of mutton, but in these times of food shortages, we can’t afford to be picky.”

“Shall I send them in?”

“Anyway, just send them through here.”
“After I see this so-called gift, I’ll decide whether to hear you out or kick you to the curb.”

Dr.Kin released his grip on the handle, raised his hand, and vigorously scratched his bald head.

It was about five minutes later that Mr. Yu Tōten, secret envoy of Shō, appeared in the room.

“Oh. Yu Tōten, is it? If it’s you coming, there probably isn’t any decent gift.”

Dr. Kin looked at the secret envoy’s face and showed frank disappointment.

“Ah, Doctor. Today I have come bearing our Chairman Shō’s confidential orders and have most certainly brought a delicacy to your liking.”

“Mutton stinks, and I hate it. First off, can you even call mutton a delicacy?”

“It is not mutton. In that case, before discussing business, allow me to present this for your inspection.”

The secret envoy lowered the large bundle he had been carrying on his back onto the machine table.
Dr. Kin approached while making repeated sniffing noises.

“It’s smoked meat, huh.
Even smoked, can that zoo-like stench unique to sheep ever really fade?”

“Now, just be quiet and take a look at this.”

When Envoy Yu flamboyantly spread open the bundle, a large gray animal emerged from within.
When he looked at its face, it did indeed resemble a rat.

“Well now, this here’s one big rat.”

“Dr. Kin.
“It is not a rat.”
“This is kangaroo jerky, sir.”

“Kangaroo jerky?”

Dr. Kin’s eyes went wide as he clapped his hands together in sharp, meaningless slaps.

“That would be correct.”
“It is a kangaroo.”
“This is Chairman Shō’s hidden... ahem, that is to say, a special premium preparation made expressly for you.”

“I get it’s special-made, but I didn’t catch that mumbling part. More importantly—where’s this thing from?”

“Ah, I shall leave that to your esteemed imagination. In any case, Chairman Shō has delivered this rare delicacy to you, Doctor, and in exchange, has instructed me to come and make a request of you.”

“What now—if you’re coming to beg me, I suppose you want me to hand over another newly invented weapon again.”
“Considering our past ties, I might not refuse to hand it over—but there’s no sport in supplying someone who keeps losing every damn time like that.”
“So—where’s that bastard Shō holed up these days?”
“Chongqing? Chengdu? Or Kunming?”

Dr. Kin’s question stung Envoy Yu deeply.
At that time, Chairman Shō and his over one million subordinates were not in Chongqing, Chengdu, or even Kunming.

“Ah, that pertains to classified matters of our regime, so I regret I cannot disclose it.”
“However, the Chairman earnestly wishes—through your esteemed goodwill—that you might part with that recent invention of yours…”

While saying this, the envoy cautiously surveyed his surroundings.

“...Um, we were instructed to humbly request that you hand over the blueprint for the Artificial Human Tank.”
“Please, by all means...”

“Huh?!”
“Hold it.”
“How did you find out about my invention of the Artificial Human Tank—and where?”

“That would be our... hellishly sharp ears.”
“If you would be so kind as to hand that over, I shall leave this kangaroo jerky here.”
“If you would not be so kind as to hand it over, regrettable as it is, I shall shoulder this kangaroo jerky once more and…”

“Alright, I get it already.”
“That Shō bastard knows I’ve got a weakness for rare delicacies and comes shaking me down for something big.”
“Very well.”
“Then I’ll hand over that blueprint.”
“This is it.”
“When it comes time for assembly, if you notify me, I can come and instruct you.”
“But when that time comes, make sure you’ve got a mountain of compensation ready.”

With those words, Dr. Kin handed the large blueprint (cyanotype) to the secret envoy without the slightest hesitation.

2

Lo and behold—it was none other than Shō Kaiseki who, in rapturous delight, humbly received the “Artificial Human Tank” blueprint and prostrated himself three times and kowtowed nine times.

Shō stood utterly exposed in the solitary salon.
At his neck hung something that clattered dryly.
It was a necklace now wildly popular in this land—animal fangs collected, holes bored through them, strung on unbleached cotton cord.
They say whenever Shō heard this dry clattering, he would recall the crisp autumn twilights of Hanshan Temple.
For this was none other than the very heart of Australia's desolate desert, where human footprints grew scarce.
The high-collared uniform proved so stifling he couldn't endure wearing it.

In this desert, Shō's final one million troops were solemnly deploying their encampment beneath the scorching sun, their skin darkening under its blaze.

This may be a digression, but Shō—having been driven from Chongqing for the sake of the Japanese military, rendered unable to remain in Chengdu, and faced with a coup in Kunming—had seemed destined to end his life of extraordinary twists and turns there. Yet as a final resort, he pleaded with British authorities at a certain location, and through an exchange of terms, Shō and his forces were ultimately permitted to cross seas and the equator to relocate to a sector of this southern hemisphere’s Sunday Desert in Australia.

There, hot sands whirled, fire-eating birds raced across the ground, kangaroos bounded through the air, and the Indigenous People—their broad noses pierced horizontally with white bones—lurked about the vicinity. With each appearance, Blue Dragon Swords would vanish, carefully stored jars of aged liquor would disappear, bringing one hardship after another like hornets stinging a tear-streaked face. Yet still he burned with anti-Japanese fervor, resolved to excavate the mineral resources buried beneath Australia’s vast soil, develop heavy industry, rebuild a grand mechanized force, return once more to the Chinese mainland, and do battle with the Japanese military.
Ten years had passed since then when—finally completing the decade-planned heavy industrial zone in this desert sector—they dispatched envoy Yu Tōten all the way to Shanghai to finagle the blueprint for Dr. Kin’s latest invention: the “Artificial Human Tank.”

Now Engineer Yu Tōten had fulfilled his great duty and triumphantly returned to this desert.
Shō’s joy was immeasurable.

“Hey, Academic Yu.
“The more I look at it, the more magnificent this blueprint becomes—isn’t it?”

Shō, unsure how to properly offer praise, decided to commend the blueprint’s technical brilliance.

“Yes.”
“Given that very fact, if I may speak of the considerable pains this humble engineer endured, I would humbly ask His Excellency the Chairman to kindly understand.”

“We have taken due note of that.”
“What shall We grant as your reward?”
“How about kangaroo jerky?”

“Oh no, I can’t stand the way kangaroo smells like a zoo.”
“No—rather, setting that aside, this blueprint surpasses all expectations in its splendid draftsmanship. But when it comes to its contents, I dare say it may be declared a truly unparalleled powerful weapon in the world.”

“Since there remain certain aspects We do not fully comprehend, you shall deliver a report concerning this diagram.”
“What exactly constitutes this ‘Artificial Human Tank’?”

Being Supreme Commander after all, he possessed arcane methods for preserving dignity undiminished.

“Ha ha.
“To commence with Dr. Kin’s invention—the Artificial Human Tank—is…”

Academic Yu surveyed front, back, left, right, and even above his head, confirming that beneath the lone eucalyptus tree in the desert’s heart, no one existed besides the Chairman and himself before—

“...The Artificial Human Tank is, well...”

“Hurry up and speak!”
“Don’t keep me in suspense!”
“We shall grant any wish as your reward!”

“Yes, thank you very much.”
“Now then, this Artificial Human Tank is, so to speak, both an artificial humanoid and simultaneously a tank.”

“We cannot make heads or tails of this.”

“In other words, as Dr. Kin explains it, there exists a hundred-member squad of artificial humans here.”

“Hmph.
“So there’s an Artificial Human Squad.”

“This Artificial Human Squad will form ranks and advance solemnly.”
“You understand, I trust?”

“So it’s the Artificial Human Squad’s advance, huh?”

“Yes.”
“Left undisturbed for however many days or hours pass, they would remain simply an Artificial Human Squad. But when headquarters swiftly emits top-secret powerful radio waves as needed, these will instantly transform into tanks.”

“That part remains utterly incomprehensible. When top-secret powerful radio waves are emitted, why does the Artificial Human Squad transform into tanks? When I silently listen to your explanations, it sounds exactly like foxes and raccoon dogs transforming into bewitching beauties in an instant. Surely you haven’t learned sorcery from Dr. Kin?”

Chairman Shō's words profoundly wounded Academic Yu's self-esteem.

“That is an utterly outrageous thing to say, Your Excellency!”
“Even if only nominally, I am Academic Yu who serves through science and technology.”
“Who would ever resort to such sorcery—”

“You can save your huffing for later—shouldn’t you be explaining things? It’s because you fly into a rage so easily that your rise through the ranks has been slow.”

Having been decisively rebuked by the Chairman, Academic Yu appeared to snap back to his senses.

“Ah! My deepest apologies.”
“And so, the secret technique operates as follows.”
“When we apply the top-secret radio waves just mentioned to the Artificial Human Squad, they will instantly—well, Your Excellency, have you ever witnessed a football match?”

“We won’t tolerate your evasive nonsense!”

“It is not evasive nonsense.”
“In a football match, when players swiftly form a scrum—in other words, just like that—the artificial humans will instantly form a scrum.”
“And then, through the artificial humans’ scrum, a single tank is assembled—and this thing begins to advance forward with a roar, its treads clattering.”
“How does this strike you?”
“Does this still not meet with Your Excellency’s approval?”

3

Chairman Shō was now in a supremely excellent mood.

He would rise early each morning, crawl out from the underground air-raid shelter beneath the desert, board the standard tank awaiting him there, and literally kick up sand clouds as he advanced westward to deploy at the heavy industrial zone.

There, Academic Yu Tōten—now at the peak of his triumph—awaited him.
He had been appointed director of this heavy industrial zone and was exceedingly busy overseeing the manufacture of component parts for Dr. Kin’s invention—the Artificial Human Tanks.

“How goes it, Academic Yu? Doesn’t the production speed seem rather sluggish, Academic Yu?”

The moment Chairman Shō arrived, these were the first words he uttered.
Before even seeing inside the factory, blurting out this stock phrase was the Chairman’s favorite intimidation tactic.

“Oh, not at all!
The work is progressing very satisfactorily.
Allow me to show you around this area.”

Academic Yu, puffing out his cheeks like a monkey stuffing candy into its mouth, would guide the Chairman through slightly different areas each morning; yet ultimately, wherever the Chairman ended up settling down with a beaming face was invariably before the warehouse where artificial humans—the principal components of the Artificial Human Tanks—lay piled in mountains.

(My, my—no matter how often I see them, they’re splendid things indeed.)

The Chairman was expressing profound satisfaction in his heart.

There lay rows of freshly manufactured artificial humans, pulled taut and rigidly straight, arranged like stacked empty beer bottles.
It was truly a sight rarely seen in the world.

“Hey. Academic Yu. Is this artificial human moving yet?”

“Not yet, Your Excellency.”

“What?”
“You keep churning out these motionless things—what exactly do you intend to accomplish?”

“This humble engineer is conducting thoroughly rational and efficient mass production indeed.”
“When manufacturing Artificial Humans, it is preferable to produce only Artificial Humans.”
“Your Excellency, I must once again humbly request that all matters pertaining to production be entrusted entirely to this humble engineer.”

“I could entrust it to you Academic Yu, but if you mass-produce them like this and they turn out defective—if they fail to function at all—what exactly do you propose we do then?”
“It’d be a disaster to redo a million units from scratch!”
“Rather than that—I want you to first complete a full set of all parts required for one Artificial Human Tank, test it thoroughly until it functions properly, then proceed methodically by creating a second tank’s complete set only after confirming success.”

Chairman Shō, even after completing such an impressive heavy industrial zone, found himself recalling past experiences—the bitter lesson of useless weapons foisted upon them by Anglo-American forces long ago, and the acrid taste of repeatedly dishonored aid declarations endured in Chongqing—and thus insisted on proceeding with rigid caution at every turn.

However, Academic Yu opposed this.

"I must humbly request that Your Excellency set aside such concerns. In the inventions of the world-renowned Dr. Kin, there could be no such shoddy outcome as them not moving when built or failing to function when assembled. In fact, when I took my leave from the doctor's laboratory, he showed me a model of this Artificial Human Tank that worked perfectly. It was truly remarkable."

“Did you try moving it yourself?”

“Yes.”
“Of course, I tried it in Shanghai.”
“What moves the tanks is a vortex airflow engine—a truly splendid engine indeed.”

“When you speak of a ‘vortex airflow engine,’ what manner of thing is it?”

“I believe this ranks among the first-class inventions within Dr. Kin’s creations—that is to say, airflow never travels straight but rather rotates, and we make use of that rotational property to generate a type of frictional electricity.”
“Using that electricity, we then warp the cosmic rays…”

“Ah, enough already.”
“Just say it’s something that applies vortex airflow and be done with it.”

Headache-inducing matters were particularly troublesome for the large-headed Chairman Shō.

Having been informed that the Vortex Airflow Engines were now fully completed and that ten thousand units’ worth had been stored in the warehouse, the Chairman finally regained his good mood.

So engrossed were they in their conversation that they failed to notice—at that very moment—five dark-skinned Indigenous Australian heads peering at them from atop the wall behind the two men.
Of course, beneath those heads lay complete torsos and limbs, and they were darting suspicious glances at the mountains of piled artificial humans.

4

“Hey, it’s terrible, really terrible!”

Five Indigenous Australian scouts rushed into the presence of their chief, who was drinking liquor.

“What’s all this racket?”

“It’s terrible, absolutely terrible!
“In that Oriental’s residence—the one named Shō-something—corpses are piled up like mountains.”
“That Oriental had a feeble-looking face, but he’s undoubtedly a terrifying cannibal.”
“A terrible thing has immigrated here.”

“What? Is that true?
“You say corpses are piled up like a mountain—how many are there?”

The Tribal Chief dropped his cup and clutched his chest.

“The number is incredibly vast... Well... how many was it again?”

“Exactly—that’s an enormous number.”
“Nine, and another nine, and yet another nine... nine and still more nines and nines and nines…”

The scout, sweat dripping profusely from his forehead, counted the number in a peculiar manner.

Even the Tribal Chief who was listening to this began to sweat profusely.

“That’s quite enough.”
“By your account, this is a tremendous number.”
“In all my born days, this seems to outnumber even the birds these eyes have seen.”
“Very well—we can’t afford to dawdle.”
“Men! Prepare for war!”

“Huh? Prepare for war…?”

“That’s right—we’ll fight that Shō Army! Before those bastards turn us loyal, healthy villagers into corpses, we’ll turn them into corpses instead! I’ve thought he was rotten from the start! That thief’s stolen God knows how many kangaroos from us! We’ll make them pay every last bit here and now! Beat the war drums! Light the smoke signals!”

“Roger!”

What began as a trivial incident now saw war clouds hanging thick over the skies of Sunday Desert.
The village commotion had not gone unnoticed by the Shō Army either.

Chairman Shō ascended the watchtower located slightly apart from the heavy industrial zone and surveyed the village.

The drums resounded with an unnervingly ominous sound.
Nine columns of smoke thrust upward into the vast sky from below like a tornado competition.
Indigenous People who had received the signal could be seen gathering from east, west, south, and north across the desert like ants.
What a tremendous number there was!
Not a thousand or two thousand.
It was a vast number of Indigenous People—at least ten thousand strong.

Shō paled momentarily upon seeing this, but straightening his emaciated shoulders as if reconsidering, forced a smile.

“Hahaha! Even if those tens of thousands of Indigenous People attack, I have my Artificial Human Tank Corps! If I swiftly send command radio waves to those steel artificial humans, they’ll instantly transform into steel tanks and crush you bastards like strawberry cream! You’ll soon learn the might of my mechanized corps!”

Up to that point he had been projecting a booming voice and striking triumphant poses when his tone suddenly turned pitiful,

"...But will it be alright?
That Academic Yu has the nerve to stay composed - he went and made all component parts to complete numbers but still hasn't conducted testing.
If they form scrum properly and become tanks when I flip radio switches all will be well - but should those dimwitted artificial humans keep plodding forward like this Indigenous army will leap over their heads and storm our camp.
"Hmm - that Academic Yu fellow causing Us such distress deserves nothing less than utmost hatred."

Then, from behind came an *ahem*—a deliberate cough.

Chairman Shō started and whirled around—only to find Academic Yu himself standing there with an unnaturally arched back, having appeared out of nowhere.

“Ah, Chairman Shō! Your distress arises firstly from not trusting this humble engineer, and secondly from not trusting Dr. Kin.”
“I have never heard such an improper account of Dr. Kin’s designs ever failing to function.”
“Chairman, so long as you persist in this attitude of yours, you insult Dr. Kin, insult science, insult technology, and—”

“Stop it.”
“You’re speaking with such arrogance, as if you’ve already been appointed vice-chairman.”
“Disgraceful.”
“I’ve kept this from you, but once these Artificial Human Tanks demonstrate satisfactory results, I’m considering promoting you to vice-chairman.”
“However, until results are seen, you are merely a minor figure.”
“So?”
“Is everything truly ready?”
“Will the preparations be completed in time?”

Academic Yu, having unexpectedly heard the words about the vice-chairman position he had long coveted come from Shō’s mouth, flushed crimson like a virgin,

“Everything is perfectly in order! At this very moment, all preparations have been completed. Therefore—having thought to request your esteemed command for the resplendent Artificial Human Tank Corps’ advance bathed in sunset glory—in truth, it is precisely for this purpose that I have come here at this very moment…”

With that, Academic Yu suddenly assumed a reserved demeanor and bowed deeply to Chairman Shō.

5

The time for battle was ripe.

Indigenous soldiers bearing strange white tattoos across their entire bodies—each pulling shields close and raising spears high—formed tenfold and twentyfold encircling formations as they charged toward Shō's camp like raging tidal waves surging from the coast.

In contrast, Shō's camp remained deathly silent and utterly still.

Yet upon the high watchtower that served as the camp's landmark, a great banner fluttered vigorously.

Beneath this banner stood a grandstand with an unobstructed view, where Chairman Shō—attended by staff officers—stood pursing his lips into a へ-shaped frown.

Before this watchtower stood a million Artificial Humans like a forest, while behind it crowded a million red-blooded Shō Army soldiers in a manner resembling spectators at a World Series baseball game.

The Indigenous People’s army, like a cloud of mist, finally appeared on the hill five thousand meters ahead.

“Hey, Academic Yu.
“It’s about time we deployed the Artificial Humans, don’t you think?”

“Yes.”
“At this very moment, I will issue the command.”

The command was issued.

The Artificial Human Tank Corps immediately began moving their limbs in unison and commenced their advance.
Their cold ashen-white bodies, bathed in the setting sun, glittered and sparkled with dazzling brilliance.

These artificial humans operated via sophisticated internal combustion engines—nothing particularly mysterious about them.

As the Artificial Human Tank Corps began their solemn advance, even the Indigenous People's army showed some signs of unrest.
However, the brave and resolute chieftain leading the vanguard swung his spear higher still to rally his men.

The Artificial Human Tank Corps advanced in orderly formation.
Their ranks resembled nothing so much as abacus beads lined up in perfect order.

“Hey, Academic Yu.”
“Let’s get started already.”
“I want to see it now!”
“I need to see it to set my mind at ease.”

“Yes.”
“Very well—let us activate the switch.”
“With the first switch engaged, the Artificial Humans will disperse and regroup, forming a magnificent scrum to transform into tanks.”

“Hurry up and do it!”

“Well then—”

The switch flipped on.
The Artificial Human Tank Corps rippled into motion.

Clang-clang-clang—a metallic crash echoed like a locomotive ramming freight cars.
What madness unfolded—some Artificial Humans contorted into wheels while others flattened into steel plates, four or five lying sideways.
They interlocked instantaneously, coalescing into dreadnoughts of gleaming armor.

Ah, the emergence of ten thousand Artificial Human Tank Corps units!

“Hmm.”

Chairman Shō too appeared utterly astonished by this.

“Well then, at this juncture I shall activate the second switch and command those Artificial Human Tanks to charge forth at full speed to trample them.”
“Does this meet with Your Excellency’s approval?”

Chairman Shō, still unable to produce a sound from his throat, silently nodded.

“Well then, I shall now activate the second switch.”
“All righty!”

With a shout, the second switch was activated.

Then, the ten thousand Artificial Human Tanks suddenly shook with a resonant shudder.
Then, with tremendous force, they began charging forward with a clatter-clatter-clatter.
However, instead of advancing toward the Indigenous People’s army—what delusion had seized them?—they began retreating at full speed in the opposite direction, straight toward Shō’s forces.

Gah!

It was an event that lasted but an instant—no, a nightmare—or so it seemed.
The ten thousand Artificial Human Tanks, like lightning—in the span of that "Gah!"—trampled and obliterated Chairman Shō and his entire army down to the last soldier equally beneath their steel hulls, then continued racing onward until finally plunging into the sea three hundred kilometers away with a swift spray.

It is said that due to this utterly unexpected victory, from that time onward, the chieftain of the Indigenous People’s army came to believe himself to be the reincarnation of a god.

What on earth went so wrong?

Regarding this matter, it is said that our Dr. Kin later heard of these events and quietly remarked:

"That's one utter idiot for you."
"Vortex airflows spiral opposite ways between northern and southern hemispheres."
"That blueprint's engine was made for the northern hemisphere."
"When using it down south here, you gotta wind the coil backwards—else what should go forward retreats instead."
"I told that Yu Tōten bastard clear as day: 'Notify me during assembly.' But the fool kept mum, aiming to hog all credit—that's what caused this mess."
"What a damn waste."
"If only he'd breathed one word—'We're testing in the Southern Hemisphere'—just one word!"
"Well... I suppose that's the fate awaiting evil accumulators like Shō and Yu."