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Secret Origins
Nanking's Hopeby drivtaan
Author's Note: This story is based, in part, on actual events. Between December 1937 and March 1938, over 300,000 citizens of Nanking, China were savagely abused, raped, and butchered by the invading Japanese army. That's almost 10,000 more lives than the estimated 291,000 the American armed forces lost to combat during the entire war. Just before the city fell, a group of 15 American and European missionaries and businessmen set up an International Safety Zone and marked off a 2 square mile sector near the city center with white flags and Red Cross banners. A German businessman named John Rabe led the group; surprisingly, Rabe was a member of Nanking's Nazi party. It is documented that on several occasions John himself waded into groups of Japanese soldiers in an attempt to save their victims. Usually, the sight of his swastika was enough to bring a halt to the Japanese brutality. Rabe sent letters to both the Japanese and the German governments in an attempt to stop the atrocities. In February 1938, John Rabe was recalled to Germany by his company and questioned by the Gestapo. It is shortly after this that the story begins.
Part 1
Chen Shih used to climb the hills near his home on the outskirts of Nanking. Oftentimes, he would pretend that he was the legendary warrior, Wong Kei-ying, one of the Ten Fighting Tigers of Kwan-tung. At other times, he would simply sit and look out over the city and wonder if any of its one million inhabitants had ever sat where he sat.
That was before the Japanese came.
Just before the invaders entered the city, almost 500,000 people, including several members of Chen's family, fled. Those who remained prayed to the gods for help. Although the Japanese began a campaign of butchery that would, for a time, turn the Yangtze River red, it appeared as if the gods answered in the most unlikely of ways.
A small group of foreigners led by John Rabe, a German businessman, claimed a section of the city and declared it an International Safety Zone. For a couple of months, this area had been seen as an island of hope in a sea of atrocities.
What few members of Chen's family that remained had been fortunate enough to make it to this part of the city. Even though there was no real guarantee that any of them were truly safe, Chen, now eighteen, thought that they were safe enough that he joined the Resistance.
From December until a week ago he had done nothing more than act as eyes and ears, gathering whatever bits of information he could. Unfortunately, one of his fellow patriots had been captured and let Chen's name slip under torture.
John Rabe had done his best to keep the young man safe, but it appeared that Chen's, and Nanking's, luck, what little of it there was, had run out. The German had been recalled home, but as one last act of goodwill, he helped the young man escape the city.
Chen spent a few moments overlooking the city, before moving farther into the hills. After spending several hours trying to find somewhere safe to rest, he stumbled upon a small cleft in the rocks hidden behind a thicket. As he settled in for a quick bite to eat, he heard the sound of booted feet drawing near.
Peeking through the bushes, he saw a squad of Japanese soldiers approaching. Certain that they weren't looking for him in particular, the young man nevertheless realized that if they found him, they would kill him on the spot, or worse. He had seen them bayonet children for no other reason than to see how long it would take them to die, so he could only imagine what they would do to him.
As he knelt there, he began a silent prayer to whichever of the gods that would hear him. Chen was convinced that they weren't listening when the ground began to quake and the bushes fell away. Though staggered, the soldiers easily spotted the now-exposed young man and began to laugh as they approached.
Again the earth quaked, but this time, the wall of rock upon which he leaned fell away and Chen was buried beneath a cascade of rock and dirt.
Part 2
'Poor Takei,' one of the soldiers said as he climbed to his feet and began to dust himself off. "I guess this means that Sergeant Jube will get the credit for the most decapitations this week."
"All I needed was one more to match him," Corporal Takei said looking at the pile of stone. "My father will think my arm has grown weak and I am unable to wield my sword." He stood up. "I swear, sometimes I think the gods hate me."
"Don't give up hope just yet," one of the other soldiers said. "There's still plenty of Chinese left in the city that we can accuse of being members of the Resistance. We'll find us a woman, and when we are finished with her, then you can cut off her head."
This seemed to satisfy Takei, so the squad continued on down the path and back to the city.
On the other side of the stones, Chen was sitting up and starting to dust himself off. "Thank you," he said as he started to turn his back towards the pile. "That's odd. I would have sworn that someone pulled me to safety just before the collapse."
At that moment, torches held in sconces mounted on the walls flared to life and revealed what appeared to be the inside of a temple. As his eyes were drawn to the source of the light, the young man saw that the spaces between the torches were filled with carvings of battle scenes. After examining them, Chen realized that this was a temple to Kuan-ti, god of fortune telling and war.
Almost as if he had been asleep and had just awakened, he noticed a large man standing several yards from him in front of an altar. The man's back was towards Chen and his head was bowed in prayer. The young man patiently waited for him to finish his prayers before speaking. After a moment, the man turned and acknowledged him.
"Please forgive my intrusion," Chen said.
"There is no intrusion here," the man said. "I called and you came."
It was then that Chen realized that he was standing before the god himself. He fell to his knees and touched his forehead to the floor.
Kuan-ti walked over to where the young man knelt. The god stood well over seven feet tall. His skin was the color of blood and he wore his long black hair pulled back and braided. His armor was the color of jade.
"I called for one of great bravery and find that it is a child who answers," the god said. "Tell me, child, which is more important: vengeance or justice?"
"Justice," the young man said, his head still to the ground.
"You answer swiftly and wisely," Kuan-ti told him. "Will you become my pupil and allow yourself to be taught, and trained, to become the protector of the people?"
"Yes." Again, no hesitation.
"Then rise, student, and begin to earn your new name."
Part 3
Chen spent the rest of the day walking with Kuan-ti and listening as the god told the story behind each of the scenes carved on the walls.
At length, the god stopped and looked at his pupil. "Your grandfather has just been killed. Tell me which is more important: vengeance or justice?"
For the second time, the young man's answer was "Justice."
"You have answered well," Kuan-ti said. "Rest now, and we shall begin your training when you awaken."
Chen felt the heaviness of exhaustion fall upon his shoulders like a wet cloak. It drove him to the ground and into slumber there in the middle of the floor.
Whether he slept for an hour or a day, the young man couldn't tell. All he knew was that he awoke more refreshed than he ever had.
As he sat up, he felt like his chest was suddenly on fire. Pulling open his shirt, Chen discovered a tattoo of a large ring decorating his flesh.
"Ah, I see that you are awake," Kuan-ti said, appearing out of nowhere. "Now, please get off of the altar."
Chen almost fell when he saw where he was and scrambled down. Forgive me, my lord. I didn't..."
The god cut him off. "There is no need to apologize, for I am the one who placed you there."
Despite his curiosity about the tattoo, Chen said nothing because Kuan-ti chose to say nothing. Instead, the god spoke of the day's training.
"We shall begin your training today in the martial arts. Henceforth, you shall refer to me as "Sifu" until I declare you training at an end."
"Yes, Sifu."
Kuan-ti led his pupil to another room of the temple, one designed and set aside for the specific purpose of martial arts training. The room contained several wooden men as well as a wide variety of weapons. It was, however, to a large mat in the center of the floor that the god walked.
For the next several hours, Chen copied each and every move the god made. He was amazed that Kuan-ti never had to repeat a move; every single one came to him as though he had done them all of his life. Not once did his sifu offer him an opportunity to rest, and, surprisingly, not once did he feel he needed one. Throughout the day, the closest thing Chen felt to discomfort was a tingling in his chest where the tattoo was.
At last, Kuan-ti declared the day's training at an end. "How do you feel?" he asked.
"It is incredible, Sifu. I know hours have passed, and yet, I feel no exhaustion," Chen said. "I even feel stronger."
For the second time in as many days, Kuan-ti looked Chen directly in the eyes. When he refocused, he again spoke words of dread.
"Your youngest sister has just been used and mutilated; her life is gone. Tell me, which is more important: vengeance or justice?"
Tears began to fill the young man's eyes as he pictured what the girl must have went through. "Oh, Mei," he whispered as he hung his head.
"Answer," Kuan-ti said.
Chen knew in his heart what he wanted, but that was not what he was asked. Finally, he spoke. "Justice."
"You have answered well. Rest."
Part 4 Kuan-ti entered the main chamber and found his pupil awake and examining the addition to his tattoo; a second, smaller ring inside the first. Still, he chose not to reveal its purpose.
Chen looked up as the god approached and noticed he was carrying two swords. The young man was about to ask why when Kuan-ti leapt forward, extending the blade in his left hand, and spun past him. A thin line of crimson appeared across his chest.
In the initial shock of what had just happened, Chen failed to notice the lack of pain. He was even more surprised when the wound began to seal itself.
"Had it been wielded by a mortal," Kuan-ti said, "there would have been no wound at all. Only my divinity allowed it to part your flesh."
Before Chen could respond, his master spun again, this time driving the sword in his right hand point first through the center of the newest tattoo. He kept pushing until the hilt touched the young man's chest, then withdrew it.
"No mortal who is just need ever fear this blade," Kuan-ti told him.
As the sword slid free, Chen looked at his master. "Sifu, what if I was not a just man?"
"Then," Kuan-ti said as he turned away and started down the hall, "you would be a dead man."
Chen followed Kuan-ti to the training room where he placed the sword from his left hand on a weapons rack. He turned to his student. "I shall not train you today." With that proclamation, Kuan-ti left.
The young man just stood there for a moment, unsure of what he should do. One minute passed, then another, and, suddenly, a grin appeared on his face.
"Sifu only said that he shall not train me today. He never said I should not continue training myself."
Somewhere, unseen by Chen, Kuan-ti smiled.
Chen began to repeat the moves his sifu had shown him the previous day. As he practiced, he realized that in some of his moves his hand seemed strangely empty. He hadn't noticed it yesterday, but, now, for some reason the absence of something was almost oppressing.
"Sifu," he said softly, "you are a sly one."
Walking to the weapons rack, he lifted the sword from its resting-place. He repeated one of the moves and found that the addition of the weapon made it feel complete.
He returned to the practice mat and continued his training until Kuan-ti reappeared. Chen knew what was coming, so he took a seat at the feet of his master.
"Your mother has been raped and disemboweled. Tell me which is more important: vengeance or justice?"
Chen's heart broke. "Sifu, may I ask you a question before I give my answer?"
"You may."
"Is it possible to take vengeance as long as it serves the cause of, and is tempered by, justice?"
Kuan-ti looked down at his student. "Rest."
Part 5 Kuan-ti was at his side when Chen awoke. He helped his student off the altar and gave him a smile. "You may inspect the tattoo, if you wish."
"It's a chariot wheel," Chen said as he opened his shirt.
"It is part of my gift to you," Kuan-ti told him. "Touch it with your right hand and ask that I judge you."
Chen paused for only for a moment before doing as he was told. The skin beneath his hand began to tingle the moment he said, "Kuan-ti, judge me."
Removing his hand from his chest, the young man watched in amazement as the wheel started to spin. Tendrils of green began to emanate from the edge of the tattoo and cover Chen's body. As it flowed across him, the animated ink took on the substance and texture of armor. Beneath the armor, Chen felt his skin begin to tighten as his muscle mass increased. Once the metamorphosis was complete, the young man looked at his master.
"Sifu," he said, "this is incredible. I feel like I have the strength of one hundred men coursing through my body."
"It is closer to a quarter of that number," the god told him.
Chen began to execute a few of his martial art moves to see how much the armor hampered him. There were no flaws.
Kuan-ti nodded his approval. With his right hand, he pulled something out of thin air and handed it to Chen. The young man smiled when he saw what it was.
The other sword.
Kuan-ti smiled at his pupil. "From this day forward, you shall be known as Shen Lu Kai, God's Green Armor, and you shall protect our people."
Part 6
"Yes, sir," the lone Japanese soldier said as he stood before his superiors, " of my squad, I am the only survivor."
Those who sat before him knew the soldier's reputation as a fierce warrior. His many injuries, and the condition of his uniform, bore witness to the fact that he had only barely survived the battle.
"How many were in the party that ambushed you?" a captain asked.
The soldier had expected this question, and had debated how he would answer when it was asked. In the end, he had decided on the truth though it could cost him his life.
"One, sir."
No one said anything, so he took it as a sign to elaborate. "He approached us in the middle of the street. We expected others to step out and surround us, but he was the only one we saw. He just stood there, looking at us. We thought he was crazy when he drew his sword. When he started towards us, we raised our rifles. He continued to approach so we fired.
"Our bullets had no effect; they just bounced off of that damned green armor he wore."
At the mention of the armor, the Japanese officers leaned in and started conferring with each other in quiet tones.
The soldier stood as straight as he could, considering his injuries, until they chose to address him.
The captain looked at the sergeant who had escorted the young man in. "Take him to the infirmary and see that he is given a place to rest."
Both the sergeant and the soldier bowed and left.
Once they were gone, one of the other officers spoke. "Does the sergeant know what to do?"
"Yes," the captain said. "It will be quick and painless."
"Counting the men from this squad, how many have we lost?" another officer asked.
"Including the six we have...silenced...to make certain that this news does not become common knowledge, over two hundred."
The officers looked at the captain, their disbelief etched on their faces.
The captain continued. "Of the six, two of the men actually reported being stabbed through the heart, yet continued to live. They said that when this warrior saw that his weapon had no effect on them, he begged their forgiveness and bade them go."
"What made these two so special?" someone asked.
"I made inquiries about them. It seems that of all the men we have lost, these two were the only ones who had not committed any sort of atrocity towards the people of Nanking."
There was a thoughtful silence among the rest of the officers. Finally, the captain broke the silence.
"I think it would be best if we put an end to the men's extra-curricular activities. We can say that the city has finally been brought into line and there is no further need for their continued punishment. Anyone caught disobeying this command will face execution by the firing squad."
One of the other officers, a major, nodded in agreement. "Hopefully, this will put an end to this green-armored assassin." As an afterthought, he added. "No mention of this will be made in any reports. It must look like we took a stand and brought our men into line ourselves."
"As for the citizens of Nanking, they are afraid to speak of the rebel openly for fear of being punished. None need ever know of this Shen Lu Kai."
The End
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