Spy Wars: I'm the boss, who am I afraid of?

Yamada Tatsusuke looked at Tang Xiaoxiao quietly. Her hungry appearance made him more suspicious. He slowed down his eating speed and gently placed his chopsticks on the table, his eyes full of concern and doubt. "Mr. Matsumoto, I am a little surprised by the way you eat," he said gently, "It seems that you haven't enjoyed a meal like this for a long time."

Hearing this, Tang Xiaoxiao slowly raised her head. There were still a few grains of rice hanging from the corners of her mouth. She gently brushed them away and smiled calmly, with a determined light in her eyes. "Yamada-kun, you may not understand that I once had a difficult time on the front line. At that time, just being able to fill my stomach was my greatest luxury. Now here, having such food is like being in a dream for me."

Upon hearing this, Yamada Tatsusuke couldn't help but sigh, with deep sympathy in his eyes. "Matsumoto-kun, you have indeed been through a lot."

Tang Xiaoxiao shook her head slightly and regained her usual calmness. "Those are all things of the past. Now I am grateful that I can have enough to eat."

As night fell and after dinner, the two continued their mission, searching every corner where anti-Japanese fighters might hide. They searched every crevice and every shadow, but still failed to find any valuable clues.

Time passed like flowing water, and the Japanese soldiers in the dormitory had already been immersed in their dreams, unaware that danger was quietly approaching.

The moment Tang Xiaoxiao had been waiting for finally arrived. She quietly stood up and picked up the bayonet of a Japanese soldier beside the bed, her movements smooth and decisive. She was like a ghost in the night, shuttling silently in the dormitory, and each move was accurate and precise, aiming directly at the enemy's vital points.

The last target was Yamada Tatsusuke. In front of his bed, Tang Xiaoxiao's eyes flashed with determination. With a flash of the knife, Yamada Tatsusuke's life disappeared under her knife.

"I'm sorry, Yamada-kun." Tang Xiaoxiao silently said in her heart, her fingers gently brushing the tip of the knife, as if conveying an unspeakable apology. She was good at killing acquaintances, and the death of her roommate at Tongwen College was the best proof.

In the dormitory, Japanese soldiers fell one by one, and blood pooled everywhere. Tang Xiaoxiao did not stop, she immediately turned to the next target.

However, just as she was about to leave, an alert soldier was awakened by the smell of blood and screamed in fear: "Enemy attack!"

Tang Xiaoxiao's heart tightened and she cursed under her breath. The bayonet in her hand instantly pierced into the soldier's heart with a clean and neat movement.

She knew very well that facing the surging enemies, two fists could not defeat four palms, and even a brave man could not withstand the siege of so many people. At this moment, the only best option was to escape.

Then, Tang Xiaoxiao grabbed the edge of the train window with her hands, pushed hard, flipped her body over the window, and disappeared into the carriage in an instant.

Tang Xiaoxiao jumped off the speeding train, and her figure moved quickly along the railroad tracks, her steps firm and powerful. From time to time, she would stop, spread out the yellowed map in her hand, and study it carefully.

This map was a treasure she accidentally found in the office of the president of the East Asia Common Culture Academy, but hidden behind it was the ambition of the academy.

Tongwen Academy, ostensibly a place for academic exchange, actually harbors sinister intentions. The maps it draws are presented at an astonishing scale, with each centimeter representing 500 actual meters, which is like a sharp sword for military operations.

Every detail on the map is carefully depicted - the raised hills, gurgling streams, quiet villages, green paddy fields, winding paths, solemn temples, and lush forests are all vividly depicted on the paper. Place names are clearly marked in Chinese characters, the altitude of the mountain tops and the contour lines of the mountainside are accurately marked with Arabic numerals, and the distance of each section of the journey is also meticulously recorded. This map, both in terms of artistry and practicality, can be called a masterpiece in the surveying and mapping industry. It depicts the magnificent scenery of the Chinese land with delicate strokes, and every line reveals awe for this land.

However, the story behind the map is chilling. The conspicuous Chinese characters reveal its true origin - "Drawn by the Japanese Army Headquarters", and the date of production is clearly written as "Showa 3", that is, 1928, which was a turbulent year in China's modern history. The existence of this map is undoubtedly ironclad evidence of Japan's militarist expansionist ambitions, and it indicates that the pace of aggression is approaching step by step.

Tang Xiaoxiao stared at the map in her hand, her eyes as sharp as an eagle's. Every route and every landmark left a deep impression in her mind. After a long period of study, she finally determined the correct direction of travel. She carefully folded the map, put it in her arms, and then took the first step without hesitation. She knew that Yunzhou City was still 20 kilometers away. This was a race against time.

If the underground party organization failed to meet her at the train station as scheduled, it would cause unnecessary confusion and danger. They might think that she was arrested or met with an accident, and such a misunderstanding might paralyze the entire action plan. Thinking of this, Tang Xiaoxiao's anxiety surged like a tide, and her steps could not help but become more rapid.

She shuttled through the woods, leaped over rocks, and the wind was blowing under her feet, like a nimble swallow flying between the eaves of the buildings. Her lightness skills were fully demonstrated at this critical moment. Every jump and every glide was extremely precise, as if she was integrated with the world, without a sound or a trace. Only the wind whistled in her ears, carrying her determination and courage.

It was those hateful Japanese invaders who only killed dozens of little devils. She was kind-hearted and intended to lead them to reunite with their Amaterasu as soon as possible. What's wrong with that? Oh, she is so unlucky!

As she walked, Tang Xiaoxiao's footsteps were particularly clear in the silence of the night. This was a field filled with moonlight, and the crops around swayed in the breeze, as if whispering the secrets of the night. Suddenly, the tranquility was broken, and sporadic gunshots echoed in the night sky, like a needle piercing the darkness, short and sharp. It was the Japanese's Type 38 rifle, a unique dull echo, mixed with the crispness of the old sleeve.

Tang Xiaoxiao's pupils suddenly contracted, and her heartbeat accelerated instantly. The old sleeve was the symbol of the Eighth Route Army and the guerrillas, and they used old but reliable weapons. The sound made his heart tighten. She knew that it meant that someone was on the verge of life and death, being pointed at by the Japanese devils. His intuition told him that it might be a life-and-death contest, a silent night battle.

Without giving it time to think, Tang Xiaoxiao made a decision immediately. She was like a cheetah, bursting out in an instant, leaping, her body drawing a graceful arc in the air, and rushing towards the direction of the gunshot. Her movements were as fast as lightning, and every step was extremely precise, as if she had found the only light in the darkness, running towards a place that could be full of danger or hope.

On the other side, the battlefield under the moonlight was even more brutal. Several figures flashed in the dark. They were Japanese devils. Their Type 38 rifles flashed a cold metallic luster in the dark night. They approached quietly, trying to eliminate the rebels silently. Their target was a small group of guerrillas not far away. They were holding old rifles. Although they were poorly equipped, they had firm beliefs and fearless courage.