readytorunbook Chapter 669 Yamaguchi Tsutomu Under Suspicion
Chapter 669 Yamaguchi Tsutomu Under Suspicion
Tsutomu Yamaguchi was unaware that it was an instrument dropped by the escort aircraft of the White Eagle B-29 bomber "Enola Guy" to collect data on the atomic bomb explosion.
His gaze hadn't even had time to leave the parachute—
The next moment!
An indescribable, ultimate light filled the entire world!
Blinding, dazzling light!
That wasn't sunlight; it was a pure, destructive, intense light that seemed to come from another dimension.
It instantly robbed Yamaguchi Tsutomu of his sight, leaving him with only an endless expanse of white.
My eyes felt like they were being burned, and I felt a sharp, stinging pain.
Then came the sound—
No, that was no longer a sound; it was a tangible, violent shockwave.
Like the invisible hand of a giant god, it slammed down on the earth with irresistible force.
Yamaguchi Tsutomu felt like a leaf in a storm, easily lifted up by the terrifying air currents, his body tumbling uncontrollably in the air before being violently and heavily thrown out.
"boom!"
He crashed onto a dirt road next to a farmland, feeling as if his bones were about to fall apart.
After a brief moment of disorientation, excruciating pain surged forth like a tidal wave.
My vision is slowly returning, but the world is blurry and distorted.
He struggled to look at his own body.
His upper left side, the side facing the center of the explosion, suffered severe burns.
Extensive areas of the skin blistered and ulcerated, turning a horrifying pink and charred black, as if it had been instantly roasted.
The burning pain was excruciating.
He subconsciously touched the top of his head; his once thick hair had disappeared, leaving only some burnt stubble and scalded scalp.
He tried moving his left ear, and it buzzed inside, making the sounds of the outside world seem distant and indistinct.
From that day on, Yamaguchi Tsutomu began to lose hearing in his left ear.
He didn't know what had happened; all he knew was that it was an incomprehensible disaster far exceeding any previous air raid.
He endured the excruciating pain and dizziness, scrambling to find a nearby dilapidated, half-collapsed shelter. He curled up inside, gasping for breath, his heart pounding wildly.
After an unknown amount of time, perhaps half an hour, or perhaps longer, he heard faint shouts amidst the pervasive smoke and the smell of burning.
He cautiously peeked out and saw his two colleagues, who were also covered in dirt and had scrapes, but whose injuries were much less severe than his.
They were also lucky enough to escape the most fatal moment.
The three survivors looked at each other in silence, their eyes filled with endless fear and bewilderment at the city that had suddenly been turned into a scorched wasteland.
Hiroshima, at that moment, was already dead.
But Yamaguchi Tsutomu's nightmare is far from over.
------
On August 9, Yamaguchi Tsutomu, known as the "King of Blast," returned to the company and reported the results of his trip to Hiroshima.
Minister Yamada Mamoru sat behind his large desk, his brows furrowed, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the surface, his gaze fixed on the person standing in front of him.
That was his young draftsman, Yamaguchi Tsutomu.
But at this moment, Yamaguchi Tsutomu was almost unrecognizable to those who knew him.
His head was wrapped in dirty bandages that oozed blood and pus, and the exposed skin on the left side of his face was a horrifying mix of pink and charred black, with gruesome wounds left by ruptured blisters.
His left ear seemed to be completely deaf, and Yamada had to raise his voice or even repeat himself for him to barely respond.
His left arm was also in a sling across his chest with bandages, and his whole body was hunched over, as if a gust of wind could blow him over.
He was brought back from Hiroshima by his colleagues three days ago after going through many hardships.
Today was the first time he struggled to come to the company to report on the results of his trip to Hiroshima after his injury stabilized somewhat.
“…So, Minister Yamada,” Yamaguchi Tsutomu’s voice was hoarse and weak, trembling with the shock of survivors, “…it was just a moment…just a blinding light…and then, the whole of Hiroshima…was…gone…fire everywhere, houses collapsed, people…people were like charcoal…”
He described it haltingly, his vocabulary limited, yet he pieced together a hellish scene.
As Yamada Mamoru listened, his own doubts grew wildly.
He is 55 years old this year and has experienced the war between Japan and Russia. In this war, he handled countless matters related to liaising with the military and providing compensation for the wounded and the injured.
He had witnessed the power of 250-kilogram and 500-kilogram aerial bombs, and he had seen the devastation left by fleet bombardment.
but……
“Yamaguchi-kun.” Yamada finally couldn’t help but interrupt him, leaning forward and placing his hands on the table, his tone clearly impatient and questioning, “Calm down. I know you’re frightened and badly injured. But…”
He paused, seemingly considering his words, but ultimately chose to express his disbelief directly:
"You're saying, just one bomb? One bomb could destroy a big city like Hiroshima?"
"How is this possible? This is completely illogical. Even the largest White Eagle bomb (referring to conventional high-explosive bombs) couldn't achieve this."
Yamada shook his head, his sharp gaze fixed on Yamaguchi Tsutomu's bandaged face, trying to find a clue in his eyes, which were somewhat unfocused by pain and fear:
"Did you...did you suffer a head injury in the explosion, causing some...unrealistic fantasies?"
Or perhaps what you witnessed was a large-scale, high-density incendiary bombing raid, so devastating that you mistook it for a single bomb?
His tone grew increasingly firm, as if he were convincing himself, or perhaps giving a verdict on this subordinate who was "talking nonsense":
"I don't believe it. There could never be a bomb with such power in this world. Yamaguchi-kun, you must be too badly injured and have made a mistake."
Yamaguchi Tsutomu opened his mouth, wanting to explain, but the intense pain and profound sense of powerlessness prevented him from making a sound.
Looking at his superior's resolute yet slightly pitying gaze, as if looking at a mentally unstable person, a huge wave of grievance and despair surged into his heart.
Nobody believed him, not even his direct superior.
Just as Mamoru Yamada finished speaking, and while he was still maintaining that serious expression that said 'I've seen through the truth'—
Snapped.
No, it wasn't a "snap," it was an extreme light that instantly filled the entire world, a light that couldn't be accurately described by onomatopoeia.
A white flash, a million times more intense than the midday sun, burst open suddenly outside the window.
It didn't light up gradually; instead, like the birth of the universe, it completely whitened everything in the office, including the retinas of the two people, in a fraction of a second.
Then, there came that familiar, destructive shockwave from Yamaguchi, like the angry roar of Amaterasu in mythology, carrying rubble, glass, and indescribable energy, crashing into the reinforced concrete office building.
"Get down!!!"
This time, almost instinctively, Mamoru Yamada and Tsutomu Yamaguchi roared in unison, then rolled under the solid desk and clutched their heads tightly with both hands.