The Rise Of A Billionaire 1943-Chapter 184 - 198: Prisoners Are Money

Sanbao City, Headquarters of the Borneo Garrison. Pierre was flipping through the documents in his hands.

Since he would soon be leaving Sanbao City for Borneo, he needed to make some preparations for his compatriots before his departure.

After all, people are emotional beings and tend to develop attachments to certain places. No matter what, Sanbao City was his first stop upon returning to Southeast Asia, so it was only natural that he felt a special connection to this place.

Given that, it was only normal for him to show some favoritism and take extra care here.

For example, he provided the local police force with weapons—not only 200 Colt pistols, but also 500 M1 carbines, 100 Thompson submachine guns, and even two German Sd.Kfz.232 armored cars.

If it weren’t for certain special considerations, he would have liked to leave behind a few mortars as well. But on second thought, he decided against it—after all, if mortars were ever needed, he could just send troops over.

Guns were enough!

A gun emboldens even the timid.

As long as this Chinese police force wasn’t disbanded, the city would remain in the hands of the overseas Chinese.

So, strengthening their power was absolutely necessary.

"It’s just a pity there are too few people—less than two hundred..."

Still, that was already quite a lot. After all, there were only about ten thousand overseas Chinese in Sanbao City. With 200 Chinese police officers and several hundred reservists in the self-defense force, their numbers had already reached the limit.

There was no way to expand further.

However, during the recent period of military training, the local Chinese community had also received military instruction. Military instructors had even been sent to the schools. According to Pierre’s plan, in the future, all Chinese schools must have military instructors to train the students.

Why go to such lengths?

Ultimately, it was because the local natives in Nanyang simply couldn’t be trusted—they often had no bottom line.

Better safe than sorry!

With guns and military training, the Chinese would at least have the means to resist violence, rather than just waiting to die.

"Maybe I should just hand out the captured Japanese rifles to the civilians for use as hunting guns. If wolves come, at least they’ll have something to shoot with..."

While Pierre was mulling this over, a voice came from outside the office.

"Boss, we’ve taken Balikpapan!"

Sun Delin burst into the office, waving a telegram excitedly.

"We wiped out 5,632 enemies. The Japs were stubborn as hell—every last one fought to the end, not a single one surrendered, so there are no prisoners..."

No prisoners again? 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Pierre, who had been thinking about how to strengthen the Chinese community, was momentarily stunned.

"Ai, how could this happen!"

After all these battles, not a single prisoner had been taken. It was hard not to wonder whether the Japanese resistance was just that fierce, or if the men were venting their pent-up anger.

With the instincts of a successful businessman, Pierre couldn’t help but complain.

"Prisoners—prisoners are very important! I know everyone’s angry, but killing a few to vent is enough. If you think just shooting them is letting them off too easy, then burn them with flamethrowers, or bury them alive—whatever it takes to vent your anger. But you still need to keep some prisoners..."

"Why? Is it because of the Americans?"

Sun Delin was surprised. Back home, they always talked about "repaying evil with good," but he had no interest in that. Here, it was all about an eye for an eye, which suited him and the men just fine.

"Is it because the Americans can’t stand it? They say—"

"What?"

"The Americans?"

Pierre was momentarily taken aback and said,

"What do I care what the Americans think? What I care about is labor! These prisoners are useful to us. Just look at the rainforest outside."

As he spoke, Pierre deliberately pointed toward the distant mountains covered in dense jungle.

"Borneo covers more than 700,000 square kilometers. From the air, it looks like a tropical paradise—lush green everywhere, dense rainforests as far as the eye can see. It all seems beautiful, but in reality, it’s not such a great place. The thick, dark jungle is full of venomous snakes and malaria-carrying mosquitoes. The island is overgrown with bananas, limes, and papayas, and it’s crawling with crocodiles, giant lizards, poisonous mushrooms, deadly spiders, and leeches. We’re going to have to live in a place like this in the future—not just live, but also clear the rainforest to turn it into plantations. But..."

He glanced at Sun Delin and sighed.

"But clearing the tropical rainforest requires manpower. And in the jungle, malaria, miasma, and all sorts of tropical diseases can be fatal. If we have Japanese prisoners clearing the jungle, we can save more of our own people. That’s got to be better than just killing them outright, don’t you think?"

He didn’t care in the slightest whether the Japanese lived or died. What he cared about was how to squeeze every last bit of value out of them before they died. He then deliberately added,

"Let them die from exhaustion or disease—that’s still better than shooting them for a moment’s satisfaction. Besides, they can do so much work for us. Bullets cost money, you know. Killing them with a bullet would be letting them off too easy!"

The boss’s words left Sun Delin stunned. He gave a thumbs-up and said,

"Boss, you’re brilliant. Those little Japs in your hands are going to wish they were dead."

Hey, is that supposed to be a compliment?

But it was the truth.

"Boss, but the men are holding a grudge, and the Japanese soldiers are tough. When the fighting starts, it’s hard to hold back. Maybe we should send a telegram to remind them."

"What? Send a telegram?"

Pierre replied bluntly,

"Can we send a telegram about this? This kind of thing needs to be said in person. Remember this: we never kill prisoners. It’s always the Japanese who resist to the end, so we have to wipe them out. Killing prisoners—that’s what the Japanese do. We eliminate stubborn enemies!"

As he spoke, Pierre added,

"Send someone by plane to deliver the order verbally. As for whether they’ll listen..."

Will they obey this order?

They probably will, but how well they carry it out is another matter. Maybe their methods will just be more discreet—like prisoners killing each other, or dying from disease. One way or another, those little Japs aren’t going to survive.

Only dead Japs are good Japs—except for the women, of course. In fact, in Zamboanga alone, there were over a hundred Japanese women rescued from the jungle, some civilians, some comfort women. After medical checks confirmed they were free of infectious diseases, they were given to elderly single Chinese immigrants, most of whom were too poor to return home or find wives. These women could help solve their personal problems.

That was a good deed, after all. If those Japanese women were left here with no one to care for them, they’d starve to death. Arranged like this, at least they’d have food and clothing.

Those old Chinese immigrants used to have neither money nor land, but now, thanks to compensation, they’d bought hundreds of acres. Maybe they wouldn’t become rich, but they’d have no trouble making a living.

Come to think of it, those Japanese women were actually living the good life!

"Discipline on the battlefield must be strengthened. In the future, we can’t just kill prisoners—we need to keep them as labor, or at least try to keep some alive..."

Some things can’t be forced, only done as much as possible. Pierre fully understood the soldiers’ feelings and supported them. After all, there was a deep-seated hatred between the Chinese and the Japanese—not just invader and invaded, but a blood feud!

Such hatred could only be washed away with blood.

"Sigh..."

Suddenly, Pierre waved his hand and said,

"Forget it, let’s not waste our breath. The men are angry—let them vent. Once we get to Japan itself, they’ll need to vent again. We don’t have enough manpower here; when we get to Japan, we’ll round them up there. Since they’re preparing for ’one hundred million shattered jewels’ and ready to fight us to the death, the place will be crawling with soldiers. There should be plenty of prisoners!"

There would definitely be enough prisoners. By now, all of Japan was mobilized for war—even teenage girls had joined things like the National Volunteer Corps, preparing to resist the Allies with daggers and bamboo spears.

"One hundred million shattered jewels!"

What a good thing!

Whether they could all be "shattered" or not, Pierre didn’t know, but capturing a few million prisoners should be possible.

But were those really prisoners?

They were basically free labor!

If he could get a few million free Japanese laborers—no, Japanese POWs "volunteering" for labor reform in Borneo—in a few years, they could clear enough land for tens of millions of immigrants to work and live on, and even build cities.

The most important thing was that it was free—apart from three meals a day, there was no pay at all. In fact, even those meals could be cut back—just enough to keep them alive.

At this moment...

Pierre seemed to understand now why the Iron Father of Steel not only dismantled German factories and shipped them away by train, but also loaded train cars full of German men as prisoners of war to take home, leaving Germany almost deserted. Those prisoners were either put to work as construction laborers for postwar rebuilding, or sent to places like Siberia for mining and logging.

Free labor—who wouldn’t like that?

At this thought, Pierre couldn’t help but feel a bit of anticipation, looking forward to the wonderful days when the Allied forces would invade the Japanese homeland.

He glanced at the calendar. It was June. In another month, the atomic bomb... Hmm, in this world, the atomic bomb probably wouldn’t come so soon!

God bless, it better not be too early. The people of Borneo are still waiting for the Japanese to come and do some compulsory labor...