Chapter 3163 When the Victory Flag Flies Again

"It's still the same as downstairs. I didn't expect that the Kwantung Army Commander's living room was also in a mess. How did you scare them?"

Looking at Comrade Political Commissar's somewhat "knowingly asking" expression, Malashenko shook his head helplessly and just smiled.

"Who knows? Maybe we can ask Yamada Otozo after we capture him alive. I hope this old devil won't be frightened to the point of being incoherent."

Although Malashenko's original purpose of ordering the troops to march in a hurry was to scare the Japanese devils who had been killed by the leader's army, so that they would know better and get out of the house.

But I didn't expect that this intimidation effect seemed to be a bit too strong now.

As Comrade Comrade Political Commissar said, the messy garbage dump-like scene was not only found everywhere downstairs, but also in the command room of His Excellency Yamada Otsuzo, the commander of the Kwantung Army.

Those who knew it thought it was the command room, while those who didn't know thought it was a homeless man's den that had just been dug up by a dog.

Tables, cabinets, chairs, hangers, and all kinds of furniture were dumped on the floor as if they had been robbed.

Clothes, shoes and hats were also thrown everywhere, and it looked like a lot of them should be Yamada Otozo's clothes.

Malashenko raised his legs and stretched his feet to pull on the ground, and even kicked out a shit-yellow woolen coat. It looked like the personal belongings of Yamada Otozo.

"Wait a minute, why are there women's clothes here?"

"Huh? A woman's?"

Comrade Comrade Political Commissar's words had not yet finished, and Malashenko raised a question mark directly over his head.

He walked over and took a look. Comrade Political Commissar just picked it up from the ground and carried it in his hand. It was really a woman's kimono.

If the pink and white pattern were worn on an old devil like Yamada Otsuzo, it would be too vulgar and abstract, which made Malashenko shake his head after just thinking about it.

"Perhaps that old devil Yamada Otozo recruited some geisha to come and do some errands while drinking some flower wine and doing other things. Who knows?"

Malashenko, who couldn't think of any other explanation, threw away the woman's clothes in his hand, took two steps forward, and came to the picture of Yamada Otsuzo who had been knocked down to the ground for some reason. in front of his desk.

"You don't even want a plaster flag anymore? How hurried are you running?"

He casually pulled a strand of white cloth under his desk and pulled out a scattered plaster flag symbolizing Japanese militarism.

It stands to reason that the Japanese should attach great importance to military flags and other items, but now they can't even take away the plaster flag from the commander's office. Malashenko, who really wanted to ask Yamada Otozo if he knew about this, ended up just saying Throw it away again.

Just as he was about to move to Yamada Otozo's living room to have a look, the soldier in charge of the specific search suddenly shouted at this moment.

"Comrade Commander, Comrade Commander! I found this, a Japanese sword! Look!"

"What!? This old devil even dropped his own command sword!?"

Malashenko, who was shocked for a moment, didn't say anything. Fortunately, he didn't say anything. He turned his head and took a look and realized that the thing in the soldier's hand was not a command knife.

"This is an ancient sword. It's old, and there are still chips and curls on the blade. It's too cheap for Yamada Otozo to use this thing for command."

There are many types of swords. It's not necessarily a Japanese sword or a command sword, even in Yamada Otsuzo's office.

Malashenko took the knife out of its sheath and looked at the thing in front of him carefully, and found that this thing was so old that it was impossible to look directly at it.

Not to mention the feel of the scabbard and handle are not good, they are as rough as old tree bark to the touch.

Even the most important part of a cold weapon, the blade, was unsightly, with a chip here and a curled edge there.

To put it nicely, this is called a battle-tested formation, but to put it harshly, it’s just a fucking broken knife.

Malashenko, who basically guessed what this thing was, and knew even more clearly that it could not be Yamada Otsuzo commanding the sword, immediately put the sword into its sheath, handed it to the entourage for safekeeping, and said at the same time.

"It's not a command sword, but a real war sword, an ancient war sword."

"It looks like it's an old object with a history of hundreds of years. It was probably used by Yamada Otsuzo's ancestors in village-level fighting. But this old devil is now so prosperous that he treats this piece of shit like a holy relic. Yes, that’s pretty much it.”

"Then how to deal with it? Comrade Commander."

After hearing this, Malashenko thought about it for a while and did not expect it to have any special value. He immediately gave the order if he could not do anything special.

"Let's deal with it normally. It will be classified as Yamada Otsuzo's personal belongings and confiscated. Maybe it will be more suitable to hang it at the door of the Soviet Embassy in Japan as a decoration in the future? Who knows."

He was wondering if he would have to put an introduction sign under the sword as "Yamada Otozo's Sword" if he really succeeded. Malashenko, who had amused himself, then smiled and continued to move forward. Walk to the living room in the distance.

"This ghost place is still Japanese-style. This old devil Yamada Otsuzo is quite good at enjoying himself."

After kicking the tatami under his feet, looking at the screen that was lying on its side, and walking around for a while, he found that it was still as messy as a grocery store, and Malashenko was no longer interested.

Just as he was about to leave, he heard some movement behind a door next to him that seemed to be just a wall barrier.

Knowing that the Japanese usually leave space behind such door stops, Malashenko remained silent, walked forward, raised his hand and knocked gently, and found that there was indeed an empty echo behind it, and at the same time there was a strange sound as if it was frightened.

The soldiers did not know this Japanese-style layout well enough, and the search was not thorough and there were omissions. Malashenko also thought it was nothing strange, after all, they had just occupied this place and had not even finished the first round of search.

In addition, if there was really an ambush killer, he should have rushed out long ago, and would not have been holding back until now.

Malashenko, who could basically guess who was hiding behind it, took two steps back, and when the guards beside him had already raised their guns and aimed, he spoke in his Japanese that sounded a bit stiff.

"Come out, I know you're hiding inside, I'll shoot if you don't come out."

"No, please don't shoot, I'll come out right away, right away."

""

Malachenko, who was speechless, frowned the moment he heard the female voice, and then watched a Japanese woman walk out from behind the slowly opened door.

Not to mention, she was dressed quite well, a white kimono with a pretty face, and she looked like she was just over 20 years old. In a crowd of people, she would be a girl who could attract many men to look back.

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

Malachenko, who was too lazy to talk too much nonsense, went straight to the point and asked directly. The kimono woman in front of him still replied tremblingly in Japanese.

"I am the commander's maid, responsible for taking care of his daily life and tidying up the room."

"Is it okay to be a maid?"

I thought that the Kwantung Army had been stationed for so long and had been so peaceful that they started to do all kinds of things. The soldiers below were visiting the comfort stations, and the generals above were using special people for special purposes.

I thought that Yamada Otozo, who had lost his woman while running for his life, was really embarrassed. Malashenko, who had no intention of talking nonsense with the Japanese woman in front of him, waved his hand and signaled the soldiers to take her away.

Malashenko left without any special gains after the tour. Before leaving the courtyard, he did not forget to look back and saw a victory flag that belonged to the former leader division and now the leader army. It had been rising on the roof of the Kwantung Army headquarters and fluttering in the wind.

"It's a replica. Kurbalov happened to have one in his hand. He suggested to me that the flag be raised. I thought about it and agreed. What do you think?"

The occupation of the Kwantung Army Headquarters was indeed a symbolic event. It was not an exaggeration to say that it sounded the death knell for the Kwantung Army. After thinking about it, Malashenko smiled and replied to the political commissar.

"Do you think this replica should be collected in the museum? In the end, the replica became a genuine item with commemorative value."