"Damn it, you're still hesitating. I told you long ago that you would hand us over to the Japanese sooner or later, one by one! Don't ask me if it's okay or not. I beg you, this isn't about right or wrong. We have to survive. Why does it always have to be us? Can't we give up on this glorious opportunity? "
Si La Si La suddenly turned around and looked at the two guys behind him, and said that he wished Shuo Yu and Fan La could ride on him and beat him until he couldn't speak anymore.
"You also think it's right?"
No one spoke for a while. Si La blinked, Fan La stopped walking, and Ban Xianer wondered what nonsense he was talking about.
Shuo Yu was the first to speak. He didn't want the 12,000 to die, but he also didn't want the Sichuan Army to become a cannon fodder.
"We've already died once, at the Nantianmen Gate. Do we have to die there again? That time, we survived 106 people. How many of us can survive this time?"
Shuo Yu had just finished saying "Fan La" when an angry voice came over.
"No one wants to die. We all want to live. They don't want spicy bean cakes. They can't tell right from wrong. We just follow you, follow you, no matter what you want to do, no matter where you take us or what you do. Mr. Ichimoku-go, we are Mr. Ichimoku-go now. We share the same pair of eyes with you--!"
He was dead. He couldn't bear two different kinds of questioning and torture at the same time, so he fled again with big strides, but his posture was not good-looking. He stumbled and fell. You might suspect that he would accidentally roll down the slope in the next step.
Shuo Yu was annoyed, seeing his face that was about to cry, and wanted to pull him along, but then he heard a loud voice squeezed out from that thin chest, he said,
"I saw them! I saw them!"
"I saw a dead person—!"
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