62: Chapter 63 I Saw the Blood on Your Hands

The air inside the negotiation tent was colder than the ice and snow of Chosin Lake.

The cigar smoke mixed with the damp, musty smell, creating a nauseating stench.

US Colonel Harrison propped his highly polished military boots on the negotiation table, his posture arrogant, as if this were not a truce negotiation site, but his private club.

He didn't even look directly at Dai Dai and the Chinese representative who walked in, merely speaking slowly in fluent English to his translator:

“Tell them that being allowed to sit here is a grace granted by God. Our B-29s are ready. If they don't cherish this opportunity, the flames over Seoul and Andong will soon ignite in many more of their places.”

Just as the translator was about to speak, Dai Dai moved first.

She looked at Harrison’s well-maintained, weather-beaten face, and in her mind, a series of bloody scenes flashed by like a film on fast-forward.

It was Little Shandong’s toes, necrotic and crumbling at a touch in the extreme cold.

It was Second Girl’s small body, her back ripped open by shrapnel, collapsing in a pool of blood.

It was the villagers burned to charcoal by napalm, frozen in a running posture even in death.

And the azalea seed she personally buried in the ruins of Iron Field.

These images churned violently in her heart like countless poisoned knives.

Hatred, indignation, heartache... all sorts of emotions intertwined, like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

[System Prompt: Player ‘Dai Dai’ Emotion Value has broken the critical point. Passive skill, ‘Gaze of the Departed,’ under the special identity ‘Historical Witness,’ has been triggered.]

A nearly imperceptible red light flickered in Dai Dai’s eyes.

The tens of millions of viewers in the livestream room were all holding their breath for Dai Dai, afraid she would be intimidated by the opponent's aura.

But the next second, everyone was stunned.

They saw Dai Dai walk around the table and go straight to Harrison.

She did not cry, nor did she scream; her gaze was as calm as a pool of bottomless, cold water.

Under the astonished eyes of everyone, she reached out and pinched the burning cigar in Harrison’s mouth with two slender fingers.

Then, slowly and deliberately, she extinguished the cigar in the ashtray on the table.

The entire movement was fluid, carrying a coldness completely inconsistent with her soft and cute appearance.

Harrison was dumbfounded.

He had not expected this Eastern woman who looked like a girl next door to dare to perform such an insulting act.

“You...” He was about to explode.

Dai Dai spoke first. Her voice was not loud, but exceptionally clear, every word hitting the tent like an ice block.

She did not use the standard, official rhetoric of the translator, but rather a question loaded with intense personal emotion, which was accurately translated into English via the system.

“Colonel, in our East, only guests are qualified to smoke the host’s cigars. And you are bandits.”

She ignored Harrison’s instantly ashen face and looked straight into his eyes. Those big eyes that once only knew how to weep were now filled only with bone-piercing coldness.

“You mentioned God’s grace. I’d very much like to know, where was your God when you burned villages with napalm and turned defenseless civilians into charcoal?”

“Where was your God when you strafed children running in the fields with machine guns and crushed their homes with tanks?”

“You signed the Geneva Conventions, yet where was the civilization and spirit of contract you professed when you used chemical weapons and germ warfare against defenseless prisoners of war?”

“What difference is there between your actions of harassing other nations thousands of miles away and those of robbers and thieves!”

“And don’t forget, it was you who were forced to express willingness to negotiate a truce when victory by force was hopeless!!”

Dai Dai’s speaking pace was not fast, but every sentence was like a precisely aimed bullet, striking at Harrison’s facade.

She didn't use any profanity, yet she utterly dismantled the ‘civilization,’ ‘humanity,’ and ‘God’ that the other side boasted about.

The livestream room completely erupted.

“Holy crap! Dai Dai has gone crazy! No, she’s absolutely awesome!”

“Now THIS is negotiation! Every word was dredged up from a sea of corpses and blood!”

“I used to think Jack was the manliest, but now I declare, Dai Ye is the eternal god!”

Harrison felt deeply uncomfortable under Dai Dai’s gaze, which seemed capable of seeing through the soul.

That gaze held no fear, only endless sorrow and overwhelming hatred, as if countless wronged souls were scrutinizing him through her eyes.

He felt an inexplicable chill and subconsciously retracted the leg he had propped on the table.

His imposing presence instantly deflated by half.

In a fit of shame and anger, Harrison slammed the table, attempting to regain the initiative through sheer volume.

“Enough! This is a negotiation table, not your accusation rally! War is war!”

He heavily tapped his finger on the military map in front of him—a height marked with a red circle.

“Look here! Hill 391! It’s like a nail wedged into your defense line! Right now, one of my reinforced companies is stationed there. Their coffee is brewed, while your men can only gnaw on rocks in the mud!”

Arrogance reappeared on Harrison’s face; he believed that absolute advantage on the battlefield was the most powerful form of discourse.

“I will repeat myself: diplomacy is an extension of strength! At this moment, my troops are on this height, drinking hot coffee and looking down on you!”

He roared, spittle flying.

Just then, an old hand-cranked telephone in the corner of the tent rang abruptly.

The ringing was sharp and urgent, sounding particularly jarring amidst Harrison’s roar.