The plan was quite simple. Li Huang and the rest of the boxers would head directly to Beijing and begin preparing to kick the foreign devils out. Mei-Yi, Yong-Liang, and her ‘private squad’ would take a much longer journey, visiting as many villages as possible on their way to Beijing, to convince them of their noble cause. Her size was enough proof for anyone to be convinced the gods were on their side. In the meantime, she would also defend the villages from bandits and foreign devils if needed. She also planned to take an unofficial detour, visiting a certain magistrate. Ao Ling, despite wanting to go train with the others, decided that being seen without his queue was not exactly too good an idea and instead tagged along with Mei-Yi.

Li Huang and the main group left long before Mei-Yi woke up, probably to avoid convoluted tearful goodbyes. Breakfast was particularly unpleasant for the soldiers, as the villagers did not appreciate their continued existence. Those that didn’t leave with the boxers anyway. There was some debate about how they would travel with Mei-Yi, given her size it would have been nigh impossible for them to just walk with her. Ao Ling helpfully suggested the jacket pocket idea, which was unanimously approved. And thus began their journey. But they seemed to have underestimated actually getting into the pocket, by ‘they’ meaning Luo-Yang’s stupidly long pike.

“Here, lift it up a bit, yes, now, put it sideways, careful!” Tong-Pao ordered as Luo-Yang, only his scraggy hands clasping onto the pike visible from inside the pocket, tried to wriggle the pike in such a position so that it fit tightly into her pocket and held the fabric upwards. Not very practical, but having it stick out of her pocket sideways seemed a bit jarring.The blade was sheathed by a crude cloth cover that ensured it didn’t pierce Mei-Yi’s jacket, but that wasn’t the only thing in danger of breaking. Mei-Yi calmly stood there, stretching her pocket opening with one finger. She was kind of annoyed by all this, as Luo-Yang wasn’t going to be impaling horses anytime soon considering she, pretty much a goddess, was with him. Her patience was thinning slowly, since he actually had managed to cram it in, only to say that it was in a bad position and then swing it out again. 

“Can we maybe hurry it up? A village might be getting raided while we’re doing this.”

“Alright, alright, lemme just-” Luo-Yang swung the pike into the opening decisively. Unfortunately, as soon as Mei-Yi saw this, she pulled her over stretched pocket down so the pike would fit upright in her pocket. (Again, not the smartest of ideas.) As she did so, she pressed down with a little too much force, and she felt the tip of the pike snap. 

“Oops! Did anything break?”

“Uh, yeah. Everything.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

Although she feigned an apology, Mei-Yi was secretly relieved this troublesome affair had been dismissed. Not really an issue for Luo-Yang, since he could just use his sword. More likely, he wouldn’t even get a chance to use anything at all. Mei-Yi was much more disconcerted at how much power she had though. She had barely noticed her movement. One little involuntary jerk of the muscles, and the spear broke. She hoped this accident would not repeat with a person. Li Huang’s words, as wisely crackly as his voice was, did not fully dissuade all the anxieties underlying her concerns. 

“So.” she addressed the little group of soldiers waiting below (also similarly irritated). “You want to get in yourself, or should I lend you a hand?” 

“Please, help us in. We don’t need to spend another hour or so trying to climb in.” Mei-Yi was particularly pleased that it was Xue-Yu who voiced his accord. To let oneself be kept in another’s pocket did require a fair amount of trust. Mei-Yi simpered contentedly, and placed them snugly into one pocket. Yong-Liang and Ao Ling went in the other. Though it was dark and crowded in the pocket, there was much comfort in being under Mei-Yi’s protection. The soft texture of the jacket was also a source of comfort, as it was like being smothered with blankets in bed. 

“Don’t we have a navigator? I don’t know how to get to Beijing.” Mei-Yi realized that walking aimlessly was not going to get them to Beijing. 

“Yeah, that’s me.”

Mei-Yi saw a little hand protrude from within her pocket, waving. She pinched up the owner of said hand, and placed him gingerly on her palm, face level. He, like pretty much anybody, was a bit nervous seeing a face so larger than his. He decided to hide this by busying himself with setting up his navigation tools.

“I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Kan-Tu.” Kan-Tu’s dress was the same as his comrades, but instead of ammunition and scabbards dangling from his sash there were strange metal instruments (no doubt some of them foreign) and a case with a rolled up map. He had an unassuming, angular face, and his lips were parted in an “o” shape, giving him the impression of eternal curiosity. His facial hair was not very noticeable, and Mei-Yi had to really look at him to notice. Near the ends of his upper lip were mere suggestions of a mustache, like a faint shadow. His eyebrows were similarly patchy. From his sash he produced some sort of odd black spoon, and a golden square with all sorts of little markings on it. Placing the spoon in the center of the square, he tried to hold it parallel to the ground. This was not easy considering he was being held by the uneven hands of a colossal girl, but he tried his best. As Mei-Yi watched in interest, the spoon shifted a smidge by itself. Mei-Yi tried to keep her hand still since it would interfere with Kan-Tu’s process, but the spoon then turned completely autonomously. Kan-Tu didn’t bend or turn the square, the spoon simply moved as if propelled by an unseen force. Kan-Tu read the markings on the square, and then put it down. Pulling out a strange metal instrument that looked like a fat golden pancake of sorts, he flipped its cover up, where a bunch of tiny tick marks and needles pointed. Mei-Yi could not see the details on it very well, but she noticed the needles moving, again unaided. Kan-Tu chuckled and put everything away. He pointed confidently.

“Aha. North-East. That way is Beijing. ” Mei-Yi was a bit confused on what just happened, which was rich considering she was literally a transformed giantess.

“Thanks. So, what happened there? What was with the spoon? Are you a magician?”

“Certainly not! The spoon is made of lodestone, and always points South, since it has north-south polarity. The golden compass is a Western copy, but it works just as well, though pointing to the North. It seems the foreigners are not as stupid as I thought. I knew the way to Beijing by heart, but just wanted to make sure.” 

Mei-Yi pretended to understand, and after thanking him and placing him back in, set off. Mei-Yi heard the muffled chatting of the occupants of her pockets. Stepping over fallen trees and boulders gracefully in her bare feet, she located a crudely-paved road pointing roughly towards Beijing. The road was already crumbling,  and several sharp rocks poked out flagrantly, which would probably be quite the liability for horses. Not wanting to damage it even more, she followed it but walked to the side of it. Towering over the tallest of trees, Mei-Yi could see far ahead, but there wasn’t much to see except empty grassland. But it wasn’t long before she spotted a patrol of foreigners. Though much too far away to see closely, they were dressed in matching khaki and marched in the opposite direction of her in parallel columns on the road. She reached in her pocket for Yong-Liang, who vocalized his surprise when her giant hand reached for him and fished him out. 

“Hey.”

What’s up?”

“You see that over there?”

Mei-Yi gestured towards the faraway blob of khaki. Yong-Liang placed his hands over his eyes to shield the sun, and gasped.

“Foreign devils! Quickly! Stop them before they loot another village!” 

“But don’t the foreigners have black magic and stuff? What if-”

“They might, but it’s not a match for the power of the gods!”

“Okay! Okay!” Mei-Yi hurriedly stuffed him in her pocket. With her large size, it was not hard for her to catch up to them. But it was hard to keep them from knowing that. By the time they were close enough for Mei-Yi to heave a rock at them, they were already organized in a firing line forming a terrifying phalanx of what appeared to be thick spears. The standing row lifted up their line of rifle tips with practiced hands, hanging over their kneeling companion’s heads, who positioned their bayonet-fixed rifle like a spear. Behind them, two machine guns had been set up to cover their flanks. Mei-Yi, despite dwarfing them immensely, was still frightened. Memories from her village flooded back. Their Western rifles were of the same long, threatening type used by the very soldiers in her pocket, but the way the foreigners looked made the rifles look even scarier. Unlike the traditional, familiar uniforms the soldiers donned, these troops wore all foreign fatigues with all sorts of devious pockets and pouches. These foreigners had some sort of odd cloth hat with what appeared to be a spike protruding out of the top rudely. Their moustaches were even worse than what she remembered. Not only were they coarsely brushed, resembling a bird’s nest exploding, but some of them curved upwards like the horns on a bull. Their faces were unnaturally still, their lips stiff, their eyes narrowing in unison. The sun reflected on some of their glasses, giving their eyes a ghostly glowing appearance. The machine guns were rather unnerving, too. Standing on an odd three legged stand like an injured dog, a riveted metal cylinder ended in a metallic box. The terrifyingly stoic crew twisted the devilish machine towards Mei-Yi’s face. The officer of this demonic army, sporting a horned moustache, lifted a pistol condescendingly. When he/it opened his/its mouth, Mei-Yi expected words to form out. Instead, a string of harsh, nonsensical growls escaped. 

Mei-Yi did not claim to be an expert in the devil language, but Xue-Yu did. Fishing Xue-Yu out, she was reluctant to place him on the ground in the company of these monsters. But he insisted, so she crouched down and did so. Xue-Yu said something in the foreign language as well. It was still recognizably the same guttural noises as the foreigners, though there was some relief in having him say it.

“The foreigners ask if we are the Society of Righteous and Harmonious Fists. I said yes. They don’t see you as much of a threat, since their arrogant confidence in their weapons has blinded them. They ask us to surrender, and become their prisoners, for our crimes against the foreigners. What should I say to them?” Mei-Yi was afraid, no doubt, but was confident that the spirits would not fail her. She thought of what Li Huang said in his speech.

“Tell them to lay down their arms instead, and become our prisoners, for their crimes against China!”

She delivered this in a sonorous shout, while glaring at the foreign devils, who backed up slightly. For a moment, Mei-Yi saw their confident facade be replaced with a frightened gape. This threat lost a lot of its effect when recited and translated by the calmer Xue-Yu. 

The officer patronizingly adjusted the luxurious monocle that perched on his cheek that made him look like he had some deranged form of heterochromia. He spat in the ground, and barked a single foreign syllable. He fired his pistol, but his arm went flying wildly, as if he was not used to the recoil. He missed completely, but the line of rifles behind him erupted into a geyser of fire and smoke, emphasized by the raucous crack of the rifles. The constant popping of the machine guns joined in. The machine guns’ quick rate of fire let them keep up an incessant stream of bullets towards Mei-Yi, like lethal horizontal rain. But they sprayed inaccurately, as if the rain was blown off course by a strong wind. Mei-Yi staggered backwards a little, until she realized it had no effect on her after a second volley was let loose. Regaining her confidence, she smiled at them. Xue-Yu had hit the ground, and was covering his head with his hands, but stood back up when he realized they were only targeting Mei-Yi.

“Last chance! Stop shooting now, and I’ll consider letting you live.” She did more than just consider this, and hoped that they would just talk it out and get along nicely. Though translated by Xue-Yu, the foreigners continued shooting at her. 

“Come on, men! Aim for the head! The Iron Cross will soon be ours!” snarled the officer, shooting his pistol ineffectively. (Xue-Yu translated this little piece of extraneous dialogue to show Mei-Yi they had no intention of surrendering.) Mei-Yi sighed, and as a last ditch attempt to resolve the matter peacefully, stood up to her full height. Lifting one gigantic foot over their pathetic line, she purposely wriggled her toes over them, drizzling them with little bits of dirt and grass. They were not in a position to make demands. 

The line broke. Seeing her show of power, the soldiers lost the stoic dispositions, and scattered. She brought her foot down after she made sure no one was under it, and this created a small storm of dust. The soldiers, though their formation was broken, continued shooting. Some of them dove into the tall grass to conceal themselves, working the bolts of their rifles firmly. Now, some of them threw what looked like sticks at her feet, sending Xue-Yu running behind her heel. The sticks exploded in a spectacular constellation of light against her feet. It would have been terrifying if it did more than tickle her. There was a constant hail of bullets whizzing towards her, and a steady rain of grenades, but she didn’t even feel them. Mei-Yi squinted through the choking clouds of smoke, and decided to resort to extreme means to convince them to surrender. 

One soldier had exhausted his supply of grenades, and could only fire his rifle from his hip desperately. Mei-Yi curled the rest of her toes back and decided to use only her big toe for more precision, and lifted it above him. His glasses stumbled off his face as he looked upwards in horror. He let out a scream, and for a second his popping eyes met Mei-Yi’s. She hesitated, and the soldier’s trembling hands shook so much that he almost dropped his rifle. Without warning he pulled out his final grenade, tore off the safety cap, pulled the string with his teeth, and lobbed it at her foot. It exploded in a fiery maelstrom, but did nothing. Another terrified yell escaped from the man’s gaping mouth, and he racked the bolt again, shooting in desperation. Mei-Yi plunged her big toe down, and despite the soldier lifting his bayoneted rifle upwards in a pitiful attempt to stop it, it bent like rubber underneath the horrific pressure of her toe. He pulled down on his helmet and curled into the fetal position, hoping the spike would save him. Down, down, went her foot, until it met the ground as if nothing was in the way of it. All that remained of himl was a red stain and his cracked glasses. Mei-Yi was disgusted, both with the remains and what she had done, but she convinced herself that the soldier would have killed her if he could have. Next, she targeted one of the machine gun crews. One of the soldiers fired the machine gun prone on the ground while praying the gun didn’t jam or run out of ammunition, while the other fed ammunition with a long strip of bullets. Once Mei-Yi lifted her foot above them, though, the whole process stopped. The still dripping viscera from the previous man caused the unwavering ripping of the machine gun to halt, as both crewmen tried to escape. The shooter tried to lunge to safety, but was jerked backwards. The machine gun was strapped to him, which he had neglected to take off. Now, he tried to hurriedly undo, and his friend rushed over and tried to pull him away. In the desperation of the moment, his shaking hands were simply not precise enough, and his friend could not pull him and the machine gun together. Mei-Yi gawked in disgust. She interpreted it as the foreign devils being uncouth enough to tie their own people to the machine guns to prevent them from escaping. She felt pretty sorry for them, but they had no problem shooting her when she wasn’t fighting back, and let her foot drop. This time, she felt the cold metal crack underneath her sole, as well as the rack of blood and guts. This convinced the other soldiers to only fight harder for their lives, so she decided to try a different approach. Seizing a random soldier by the legs firmly, she lifted him up in the air. His spiked helmet toppled off, and his belt slipped from his hip to his chest area, smacking him with all his ammunition and grenades. He tried to use his rifle butt to bash her fingers, which did not work. So, she simply dangled him over the ground, a screaming mess of a man. His squealing turned coherent, and started begging his fellow comrades to stop. Given that they did not wish to friendly fire, the other soldiers’ fire tapered off. 

“Surrender, or I shall kill this man!”

Once Xue-Yu hurriedly translated it, the shooting stopped completely. Except for a single (poorly aimed) pistol shot. The officer shouted without a moment’s hesitation right after Xue-Yu finished his sentence.

“Keep shooting, men! You will be a martyr for the fatherland against the savages, sonny! You’ll get your Iron Cross! Posthumously, of course! The rest of you, shoot! Keep shooting! Fire!” The dangling soldier completely broke down into bawling. As soon as Mei-Yi heard the translation, she glared at the officer, who missed the glare because his head was turned backwards towards the rest of the lot as he continued fiercely waving, shooting and shouting. He stopped awkwardly as he realized he was the only one doing so. Mei-Yi was pretty disgusted at the officer, and the rest of the officer’s troops shared this disgust. A burly man with an expression of majestic contempt near the officer stepped forward, raised his sleeves as if to physically chastise the officer. Then, he threw his rifle to the ground loudly. The officer, gritting his teeth, jabbed his pistol barrel  into the man’s head. Mei-Yi dropped the shocked and disheveled but otherwise unharmed soldier down gently, and then pinched the officer’s leg without the same level of gentle courtesy she had given the previous soldier. The officer screamed in pain and terror as she squeezed hard enough to break bones, lifting him up roughly. His pistol clattered to the ground.

“Actually, stop shooting or I’ll kill this guy!”

The officer suddenly became thoughtful. His speeches about sacrifice for the fatherland mysteriously stopped. His once proud moustache drooped, and his monocle slid off his face and slumped down, hanging uselessly by its golden chain. His entire body, actually, hung uselessly, like a ragdoll suspended by an inconsiderate child. The burly soldier picked up his gun, and fired. He wasn’t actually meaning to hit anything at all, but just fired off to the side of Mei-Yi, as a purposeful fuck you to the officer. The officer’s eyes widened.

“THE KAISER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS! YOU’LL ALL BE FLOGGED, ALL OF YOU! I’LL-” he never got to finish his cursing, as Mei-Yi let him drop to the ground. He landed on the ground with a disgraceful thump, and Mei-Yi crushed him into the ground with her foot. After really twisting his gory remnants into the ground, she looked at the rest of the soldiers. The burly man gave her a somber look colored with some sadness. He let go of his rifle, and the others joined him. The other machine gun crew was not conjoined to their weapon by a strap, and walked backwards, hands raised in surrender. Although they sort of united against the officer, they were still foreign devils who were destroying her country. 

“Now, drop all your gear!”

Xue-Yu added a few liberties to his translation as the soldiers obliged, with things like “Yes, that too!” and “That very much counts as gear.” or “I can see you stuffing that in your shirt.” Once the soldiers stripped themselves down to just their fatigues and helmet, Mei-Yi got a surge of satisfaction. She liked, no, loved, the power she exhibited over these people. If she was still regular size, they would have beaten her, robbed her, or worse. But now, she could do whatever she wanted with them. Mei-Yi tasted the power, and she let it engulf her completely. Now that she was finally able to strike back at the foreign devils, she thought of an idea.

“If you want to continue living…  ...come over here and bow down.” She blushed and directed her glance elsewhere. Xue-Yu gave her a disappointed look while he translated, but she didn’t care. Common folk were expected to do what she ordered to people like the magistrate, and if they didn’t, they would be killed. She wouldn’t punish them like that, but she still wanted to be on the giving side of orders rather than the receiving. There was a tense moment of silence. The burly man sighed painfully, strode forward, and kowtowed down to Mei-Yi’s feet. Mei-Yi didn’t know if this was out of pure stupidity or courage, but he set an example which the others hastily followed. Mei-Yi blushed as Xue-Yu rolled his eyes.

“Alright, thank you, that’s enough.”

Mei-Yi remembered what Xue-Yu said about their supposed noble nature. Some of them anyway, considering the officer. 

“I need one person to sacrifice themselves to save the rest. Any takers?”

Xue-Yu hesitated to translate it at first.

“Mei-Yi, if I might have a word-”

“No, don’t worry, I won’t hurt them. I want to test something. Go ahead, tell them.” 

The usage of the word “sacrifice” was not reassuring. They looked amongst themselves, and then at Mei-Yi. Some of them were tempted to try to beg and implore her pity, but they doubted the veracity of this method. A few eyed the rifles on the ground carefully, and debated fighting back. But they were simply too powerless. There was nothing they could do. The burly man shook his head disdainfully, and took a half glance at the dead soldier’s glasses. He raised his hand.

“I’ll go!” his gruff voice immediately sparked a heated debate with the others. They tried to get him to put his grubby arm down, but he wouldn’t.

“Great.” Mei-Yi first took Yong-Liang and Ao Ling out of her pocket, and put them in with the Imperial troops in the other pocket like objects. She then stuffed the burly man into the now empty one. As crowded as the Imperial troops might be, she guessed they would prefer that to being with a foreign devil. Though somewhat tempted to crush the rest of the soldiers, she decided to spare them.

“Xue-Yu, ask them if they’ve robbed any villages. But not that bluntly, try to cross-examine them or something.”

“No need, they’re fresh off the boat. I can assure you they haven’t done anything.”

Mei-Yi didn’t know what to do with them now. She couldn’t fit all of them into her pocket, and didn’t want to just crush them. 

“Xue-Yu, what do I do?”

“Let them go.”

“What?”

“Yeah. But I’ll threaten them for you.”

“Uh, alright. But what if they rob people like right after?”

“If they do, you can always track them down. I’m pretty sure foreign bases keep detailed records of where all their troops are.”

“Okay.”

Xue-Yu cleared his throat.

“Alright, you lot! You are to the Chinese people what the officer was to you. Even though you have done nothing wrong yet, let me assure you that my friend here (Mei-Yi would have been delighted to hear her being called a friend, if she understood the foreign language) may not be as courteous as today if she catches you again. And don’t try to run, either, because once the foreigners have been expelled from China, you will be found. If your friend tries to do something funny, stop him, since it doesn’t matter who does what, she’ll bloody kill you all.”

“W-w-what about Klugm- uh, your prisoner?” One soldier piped in.

“ If you decide to bully anybody, well, give up hope on ever seeing him again. Or anything ever again. Now get out of here!”  The soldiers took off, running so fast they tripped on each other’s feet. Mei-Yi was still debating the ethics of letting them go, but finally resolved that they had learned their lesson. Mei-Yi knew Xue-Yu had worked with foreigners before, so she trusted his suggestion. Hoping that he was right, she picked up Xue-Yu and helped him into her pocket. Then, she continued walking along the road. Every step she felt the bloody remains of the soldiers she had murdered. Disturbed, she tried to focus instead on the devil in her pocket. The same kind of people that had killed her father and many others. She dreaded to know what he was doing alone there. While Mei-Yi thought of him in uncertain fear, Xue-Yu thought of him with empathy. How scared would he be, being in a giantess’ pocket?