During the Second Sino-Japanese War, the atrocities committed by Japanese forces in China shocked the world, but in Japan, newspapers spun tales of wartime heroism. One chilling story, reported by the Osaka Mainichi Shimbun in 1937, framed a barbaric killing spree as a sporting event: a “Contest to Cut Down 100 People” between two Japanese officers, Tsuyoshi Noda and Toshiaki Mukai. This gruesome competition, set against the backdrop of the invasion of China and culminating in the Nanking Massacre, reveals the depths of wartime propaganda and brutality. This analysis delves into the contest’s details, its role in Japanese media, and its lasting controversy, offering a sobering look at a dark moment in history. Share your thoughts: How should we confront such atrocities today?

An article reporting on the “Contest to Cut Down 100 People.”
The Second Sino-Japanese War (1937–1945) was marked by Japan’s brutal invasion of China, resulting in millions of deaths and widespread atrocities. While the international community condemned the violence, Japanese media sought to glorify their military’s actions. The “Contest to Kill 100 People,” reported with fanfare by the Osaka Mainichi Shimbun, epitomized this propaganda, turning a horrific killing spree into a celebrated spectacle. Officers Tsuyoshi Noda and Toshiaki Mukai’s race to kill 100 Chinese soldiers with their katanas, later revealed to involve defenseless prisoners, became a symbol of Japan’s wartime cruelty, especially during the Nanking Massacre. Let’s explore the contest, its media portrayal, the grim reality, and the ongoing debates surrounding its legacy.
The Contest’s Origins and Media Frenzy
In November 1937, as Japanese forces advanced through China after capturing Shanghai, the Osaka Mainichi Shimbun published an article titled “Contest to Kill 100 People Using a Sword.” The piece detailed a private wager between Second Lieutenants Tsuyoshi Noda and Toshiaki Mukai to see who could first kill 100 enemy soldiers with their katanas. The newspaper treated the contest like a sports event, updating readers on the officers’ “scores” as they progressed from Wuxi to Danyang. An early report noted Noda at 56 kills and Mukai at 25, with updates like, “Second Lieutenant N broke into an enemy pillbox…[and] killed four enemy,” and Mukai’s boast, “I’ll probably cut down a hundred by the time we reach Danyang.” An X post from HistoryUnraveled captured the shock: “A newspaper hyping up a killing contest? That’s propaganda at its darkest.”

Tsuyoshi Noda and Toshiaki Mukai
The coverage continued with breathless enthusiasm. By the time the Japanese army reached Danyang, the headline declared, “It’s 89-78 in the ‘Contest To Cut Down A Hundred,’ A Close Race, How Heroic!” Neither officer had reached 100 kills, but the paper’s framing cast them as heroic warriors. This narrative starkly contrasted with the reality of their actions, which involved slaughtering defenseless prisoners rather than engaging in honorable combat. The media’s glorification of the contest reflected Japan’s wartime propaganda machine, which sought to rally public support by portraying soldiers as valiant heroes.
The Nanking Massacre: A Brutal Backdrop
The contest reached its grim climax during the Nanking Massacre, which began on December 13, 1937, when Japanese forces captured Nanking, then China’s capital. Over six weeks, Japanese troops unleashed an orgy of violence, killing an estimated 300,000 civilians and soldiers, looting, and committing widespread gang rapes in what became known as the “Rape of Nanking.” The Osaka Mainichi Shimbun reporters, ignoring the massacres, focused on Noda and Mukai’s “progress.” By this point, Mukai had reportedly killed 106 people and Noda 105, surpassing their initial goal. The officers, unable to determine who reached 100 first, extended the contest to 150 kills, with Mukai casually noting his sword was “marred” from slicing through a helmet. An X post from WarHistoryNow remarked, “106 kills, and he’s worried about his sword? The callousness is chilling.”
The reality behind these numbers was far uglier. Noda later admitted that most of their victims were not armed soldiers but defenseless Chinese prisoners. He described luring prisoners out of trenches with false promises of safety, only to line them up and execute them: “We’d face an enemy trench… and when we called out ‘Ni, Lai-Lai!’ (You, come on!), the Chinese soldiers were so stupid, they’d rush toward us all at once. Then we’d line them up and cut them down.” This revelation exposed the contest as a grotesque act of cruelty, not a heroic feat, aligning it with the broader atrocities of the Nanking Massacre.
Propaganda vs. Reality: The Contest’s True Nature

Japanese soldier beheading a Chinese prisoner
The Osaka Mainichi Shimbun’s coverage painted Noda and Mukai as gallant swordsmen battling armed foes, but the truth was far less noble. Most of their victims were prisoners, executed in cold blood, not combatants in hand-to-hand duels. Historians have debated the contest’s accuracy, with some arguing the numbers were inflated for propaganda purposes. Noda himself later claimed the contest was real but downplayed its scale, suggesting the newspaper exaggerated the story. However, a 2003 lawsuit by the officers’ families, alleging the contest was fabricated and damaged their reputations, was dismissed by a Japanese court, which ruled that “the contest did occur, and was not fabricated by the media.” An X post from TruthInHistory noted, “The court confirmed it happened, but Japan’s denialists still push back.”
This discrepancy highlights the power of wartime propaganda. The Japanese media’s portrayal of the contest as a sporting event desensitized readers to the violence, framing it as a patriotic pursuit. This narrative obscured the broader horrors of the Nanking Massacre, where mass executions, beheadings, and sexual violence were rampant. The contest, while a small part of the war’s atrocities, became a symbol of how propaganda can distort reality, turning acts of barbarity into tales of glory.
Legacy and Controversy
The “Contest to Kill 100 People” remains a contentious issue in Japan-China relations. After Japan’s defeat in 1945, both Noda and Mukai were tried as war criminals and executed for their roles in the Nanking atrocities. Yet, the contest and the broader Nanking Massacre are still disputed in Japan, with right-wing nationalists often dismissing accounts of civilian killings as fabrications. These denials have strained diplomatic ties, as China and the international community demand acknowledgment of the war’s atrocities. An X post from AsiaHistoryWatch stated, “Denying the Nanking Massacre ignores evidence like the killing contest—history demands accountability.”

Bodies stacked by a river during the Nanking Massacre.
The contest’s legacy also raises questions about historical memory and responsibility. While the 2003 court ruling affirmed the contest’s occurrence, debates persist about its scale and context. Some argue it was a minor episode blown out of proportion, while others see it as emblematic of Japan’s wartime cruelty. The Osaka Mainichi Shimbun’s role in amplifying the contest underscores the media’s complicity in normalizing violence, a lesson that resonates in today’s era of misinformation.
Ethical Reflections
The contest forces us to confront uncomfortable truths about war and propaganda. By framing mass killing as a competition, the Japanese media dehumanized victims and glorified violence, contributing to a culture of impunity during the Nanking Massacre. This episode challenges us to examine how media narratives shape perceptions of conflict and the importance of holding perpetrators accountable. It also underscores the need for historical education to prevent such atrocities from being forgotten or denied.
The “Contest to Kill 100 People” is a haunting reminder of the Second Sino-Japanese War’s brutality and the power of propaganda to mask it. Tsuyoshi Noda and Toshiaki Mukai’s killing spree, celebrated by the Osaka Mainichi Shimbun as a heroic feat, was a grotesque act of violence against defenseless prisoners, set against the horrors of the Nanking Massacre. Its legacy, fraught with controversy, highlights the importance of confronting historical truths and resisting denialism. As we reflect on this dark chapter, we must ask: How can we ensure such atrocities are never repeated?