8. Death Without Witnesses

No. 76 Jisphiel Road was the nickname for the Wang puppet regime’s secret agent headquarters.

The notorious traitor Ding Mocun’s face turned ashen. He slammed down the phone with a bang and took several deep drags from his cigarette.

Zhou Hongyi’s brother-in-law had a square face, broad nose, high cheekbones, and deeply etched nasolabial folds. To a stranger, his first impression was one of fear and unapproachability.

Ding Mocun had once been a major general and head of the Third Bureau of the Military Statistics Department before defecting to the Wang puppet regime. He served as the director of the secret agent organization No. 76, making him a significant power player second only to Li Shiqun.

This time, they had finally succeeded in turning a member of the Communist underground and obtained critical intelligence. Yet, unexpectedly, the operation went disastrously wrong.

That fool Hu Junhe was killed after single-handedly taking down seven enemies and wounding three more. For No. 76, this was the most humiliating defeat in recent memory.

What infuriated Ding Mocun even more was that after so many of their men were killed, Hu Junhe’s group foolishly struggled for a long time to describe the suspect’s appearance when sketching a wanted poster. All they knew was that he wore glasses and had sideburns. Did they not realize that a beard could be disguised?

Although the mission had failed, it indirectly confirmed that the turned Communist agent truly knew many inside secrets. They had to seize the opportunity before the enemy fully realized it and conduct a thorough sweep of the Communist underground cells in Shanghai—capturing as many as possible.

“Send in Wu Sibao,” Ding Mocun ordered.

Wu Sibao was the chief of security for No. 76. Ruthless and brutal, he commanded a gang of thugs who specialized in tormenting resistance fighters and patriots, earning him a notorious reputation.

Putting No. 76’s internal affairs aside, after Zhou Hongyi returned to the police station, his first stop was the dungeon.

“Master Zhou, you’re here? Heard there was a firefight between No. 76 and the Communists early this morning on Suzhou Road, with over a dozen killed,” Wang Shun stood guard outside the dungeon, holding the cigarettes Zhou had slipped him last night.

“I heard. That Communist’s marksmanship was incredible. Lucky it wasn’t us facing him. By the way, this one’s been cleared and can be released. Thanks for your hard work, brothers.” Zhou casually ordered the release of “Mingjing,” only saying “rest assured” as they brushed past each other.

“Mingjing” looked deeply into Zhou Hongyi’s eyes, a mixture of gratitude, admiration, curiosity, and doubt shining through. Whatever else, it was this “Four-Faced Buddha” who had saved his life.

Since news from the Feilongcui Café on Suzhou Road indirectly proved “Mingjing’s” innocence, the chief and captain paid little attention after Zhou released him.

Meanwhile, all their focus shifted to gossip about the mysterious figure who had engaged No. 76 agents in a gunfight in the café’s back alley.

Rumors about this enigmatic man became increasingly exaggerated, spawning multiple versions within the police station. First, it was “seven killed, three wounded,” then “ten killed, seven wounded,” and by the time Zhou personally escorted “Mingjing” out and returned, the story had morphed into “seventeen killed, ten wounded.”

Zhou thought to himself that by tomorrow, the tale would probably claim he had wiped out an entire enemy battalion. Such absurdity.

As the police indulged in their gossip, two cars pulled up outside the station. Several Japanese officers stepped out, their faces stern as they entered the police headquarters.

One officer, brimming with authority, strode directly into Chief Feng Jinxiong’s office and slammed the door shut with a bang.

The surrounding officers witnessed the scene, and the gossip quickly shifted from the waterfront mystery man to the chief’s alleged affair with a Japanese officer’s wife, and how the husband had come demanding retribution.

Inside the office, Feng Jinxiong bowed slightly, wearing a forced smile as he circled the desk.

“Heh, Colonel Kameda, you could have just called. No need to come all this way,” he said, extending his hand.

But Colonel Kameda, glaring down his nose, ignored the gesture, leaving Feng awkward.

“Chief Feng, I heard your station arrested a major from our Tokkō (Special Higher Police), and worse, that he’s being held in the dungeon and tortured. Since when are Tokkō majors subject to your interrogation? I order you to release him immediately!”

Kameda was one of the few in the know about the Tokkō major’s arrest because he was directly involved. What infuriated him was that their spy had been mistaken for a Communist underground member and subjected to brutal torture. He saw the police as useless pigs wasting resources, so incompetent they’d turned their sights on their own side.

Feng had learned about this incident during a dinner the previous night from an informant. The verdict was to hold firm: neither interrogate nor release the confessed Tokkō spy, letting the rival factions within the Japanese military settle the matter internally.

The politically savvy Feng knew that within Tokkō, Colonel Kameda and Colonel Kondo held equal rank but belonged to opposing factions with differing views. Kondo was closely allied with Director Ding of No. 76, who had even placed his brother-in-law Zhou Hongyi inside the police station—a bond that Feng valued more. Without Kondo’s orders, Feng decided the spy would not be freed.

“Kameda, you misunderstand. That Tokkō major, Yoshida, openly confessed he is a Communist contact. The evidence is irrefutable. We’re helping you root out a traitor; even if it’s no credit to us, you shouldn’t come here demanding and accusing us like this,” Feng said.

Kameda’s veins bulged in anger as he suddenly drew the sword hanging at his waist, startling Feng.

“Who? Who draws a blade here?!” Captain Xu Guodong, Feng’s loyal subordinate, burst in with his gun ready, with Zhou Hongyi close behind.

“Enough nonsense! Everyone out! Are you all planning a mutiny? Don’t forget who you serve!”

Feng was a master of diplomacy and survival, adept at navigating relationships and shifting with the winds. With Kondo leading Tokkō and Kameda a mere subordinate, plus the fact that the traitor was exposed by young Master Zhou personally and thus indirectly benefiting Director Ding, Feng had no fear.

“Kameda, I know full well who we serve, and our duty is to capture rebels and underground agents. Why do we do this? For social stability and regime security. Your visit here puzzles me. Are you trying to protect the traitorous Major Yoshida? If so, I must call Tokkō headquarters for clarification.”

Kameda ground his teeth in frustration, wanting to slash the smiling fat man before him but knowing this operation was concealed from Kondo. He had planned to claim the credit alone but stumbled here unexpectedly.

He would never believe Yoshida was a Communist contact. How could these idiots have gotten a confession? Perhaps Yoshida broke under torture?

After a moment’s thought, Kameda sheathed his sword and gritted his teeth. “Chief Feng, I know whether Yoshida is a Communist contact. He’s my man, sent on a special mission in your dungeon. I want to see him now and hear from him directly how he confessed.”

“To see the prisoner? No problem, Colonel Kameda. I’ll personally escort you,” Feng replied.

He knew that even if he was right, he could not afford to alienate Kameda. If Kameda gained the upper hand later, trouble would follow. Feng led the way down into the police dungeon.

Zhou Hongyi followed behind, quietly relieved he had already released the true contact just in time.

Upon entering, they found only one prisoner left: Major Yoshida, head bowed and bound to the wooden frame.

“Yoshida? Yoshida-kun! What happened to you? Have you been tortured?” Kameda’s fury flared again at the sight of Yoshida’s battered body.

Captain Xu Guodong stepped forward, cautiously placing a finger near Yoshida’s nose, then quickly retreating with a stunned expression as he whispered to Feng, “He… he’s already dead.”