My Days as a Poison Queen in Northeast China

"Injection!" Before I could even see my surroundings, a sharp pain shot through my arm. I found myself strapped to an iron chair, a Japanese medic wearing round-framed glasses injecting a vial of purple liquid into my vein. "Where's my takeout?" My last memory was of eating spicy hot pot. The laboratory reeked of disinfectant, and a calendar hung on the wall. April 1940. Three Japanese soldiers in white coats surrounded me, taking notes in notebooks. "Temperature 36.5, pulse 80..." "Baka! This is impossible!" The bespectacled medic suddenly threw down the thermometer. "This..."