Spy game? Stop guessing, I really am an undercover agent!

Chapter 97 Cunning Asano

Shanghai, Special Higher Police prison.

After an unknown amount of time, Zhang Mingda woke up due to the pain.

Looking around, he realized he had been taken to a cell.

The cell contained only a stone bed made of stone blocks and some straw.

You can still vaguely see cockroaches, bedbugs and other small animals crawling around on it.

"Clatter." The sound of a door opening rang out, and accompanied by the sound of orderly footsteps, a group of Japanese soldiers, led by Asano Ozo, walked in.

“Mr. Zhang, I have good news for you. I think you will soon be free from suffering.” Asano Ozo’s harsh voice rang out.

"Lord Fujita has already approved the order. Since you refuse to say anything, then take you to the execution ground and execute you immediately."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Mingda inexplicably breathed a sigh of relief.

"Take him away," Asano Ozo waved his hand, and the Japanese soldiers behind him immediately opened fire on the cell, dragging Zhang Daming out from the left and right.

At this moment, if someone looked closely, they would have noticed that blood was constantly flowing from Zhang Mingda's heels, clearly indicating that the Japanese had severed his Achilles tendons during the torture, making it impossible for him to walk normally.

To torture people to this state in just a few hours is an insult to the word "beast," even if it were used to describe these Japanese people.

As Zhang Mingda stepped out the door, he subconsciously squinted. The sky outside was already bright, and a bright red sun was rising from the east.

"The sun is so nice," Zhang Mingda murmured, but soon under the coercion of the Japanese soldiers, he got into the black van.

The van's destination was naturally the execution ground on the outskirts of Shanghai.

After starting the car, it sped towards the suburbs and soon came into view the old city wall of Shanghai.

The morning sun cast its golden rays across the long, bluestone-paved street.

The city wall cast a long, oblique shadow, cutting through the figures of people below.

There is a long breakfast stall along the bottom of the city wall, where many people gather early in the morning.

You can find all kinds of Shanghai-style snacks here, such as fried dough sticks, soy milk, pan-fried buns, and wontons.

The most attractive thing is a fried fish stall on the roadside. The slender ribbonfish are fried to a golden brown and sprinkled with various seasonings. Even the air is filled with the aroma of fried fish and a faint hint of gunpowder.

"Screech!" The sudden stop caused Zhang Mingda's body to lean forward involuntarily.

Suddenly, a shout rang in my ears, a mixture of Japanese and Chinese: "You idiot, are you looking for death?"

"Sir, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." A series of apologies rang out.

In front of the car, a middle-aged man in a coarse cloth long gown kept bowing and apologizing to the driver, and Zhang Daming's eyes lit up the moment he saw the man.

The middle-aged man in front of him was none other than Zhao Peng, one of his subordinates, a liaison officer at the Shanghai Transportation Station, codenamed Gray Rat.

"Baka! Get out of here!" The driver honked the horn twice angrily.

"Yes, yes, sir, I'll get out of here right away." Zhao Peng slowly pushed his bicycle up, then suddenly shouted loudly towards the side of the bicycle: "Lie down."

The sound was like a command; the oil pan at the street corner fish stall was suddenly overturned, scalding hot oil splashed out, and smoke filled the air!

"Da da da!" The stall owner picked up the flower machine gun hidden under the cutting board and fired a burst of bullets at the truck!

Bullets swept through like water, instantly causing widespread panic.

"Baka! They're Communists! Kill them without mercy!"

The rear door of the van was kicked open, and Japanese soldiers armed with Type 38 rifles jumped out and engaged in a firefight with the enemy.

The muzzle spitting fire, the crisp bursts of the Type 38 rifle and the muffled shots of the Type 14 pistol instantly drowned out the cries from the street.

Just as the two sides were exchanging fire, a figure nimbly crept up to the back of the van. "Lynx, how are you? Can you still walk?"

Zhang Mingda looked up and saw Zhao Peng standing warily at the back door of the van.

"The organization learned of your arrest and specially dispatched guerrilla teams from Jiangsu and Zhejiang provinces to rescue you."

"This place is no longer safe to stay. Are you able to leave?"

Zhang Mingda waved his hand and said, "Grey Rat, I can't walk anymore. They severed my Achilles tendons. You can't get out of here even if you take me with you."

“Grey Rat, listen carefully. I found the communication signal left by the special envoy at the Sanquan Water Station on Baima Road.”

"However, my rank is too low to access the codebook for this kind of signal."

"I estimate that the special envoy must be hiding in a yarn factory on Baima Road, working as a female worker to conceal his identity."

"You need to get them out as soon as possible, or something bad might happen."

"Okay, I got it." Zhao Peng nodded, then suddenly said to the side, "Asano-kun, did you hear me?"

“I heard you very clearly, Mr. Zhang. Thank you for cooperating with the Empire.” Asano Ozo’s teasing voice rang out from the side of the car.

"Cease fire and assemble, everyone!" Asano Ozo ordered.

The gunfight on the long street came to an abrupt end, and the armed "Red Party" members all moved toward the van.

It was only then that Zhang Mingda noticed that most of these men, dressed in coarse linen clothes and dressed like members of the Communist Party, had mustaches.

These aren't Communist Party members at all; they're clearly Japanese soldiers in disguise.

"Grey Rat, you, you're a traitor?" Zhang Mingda finally realized what was happening.

"As the saying goes, a good bird chooses a good tree to perch on. How am I a traitor? I just chose the path that I believe is right."

Zhao Peng sneered, "Let me tell you another secret: do you know why the contact point at Dahua Bookstore was exposed?"

Zhang Mingda's eyes were bloodshot with rage. He pointed at Zhao Peng with his right hand and said, "You, you, you betrayed me."

Zhao Peng chuckled and said, "Congratulations, you got it right."

"Don't you think about it? If it weren't for me, how would you have been exposed? Although I don't know who your supplier is, I'm sure he's still in Shanghai and hasn't gone far."

"Lynx, as long as you're willing to cooperate with the Japanese, you can have whatever you want—gold tickets, beautiful women."

"Don't even think about it." Knowing he had fallen into a trap, Zhang Mingda simply closed his eyes and said no more.

With a "bang," Asano Ozo raised his Nanbu pistol and shot Zhang Mingda between the eyebrows.

“This person is no longer useful. Our primary task now is to capture that special envoy from the new army.”

"Yamaki-kun, immediately return to the Special Higher Police and report to Section Chief Matsui that the new army special envoy may be hiding in a textile factory near Baima Road."

"Tell him and Major Ando to send men to seal off all exits near the textile factory as soon as possible. Even if it means turning over every inch of the place, we must find this special envoy."

"Hai." Kenichi Yamaki bowed slightly and ran to the foot of the city wall, where a three-wheeled vehicle was already parked.

Kenichi Yamaki rode his three-wheeled motorcycle back home.

Asano Ozo turned to his gathered men and shouted sternly, "Everyone, listen to my orders, get in the car, target: Baima Road Yarn Factory."

"Set off,"

"Hai."

(End of this chapter)