Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

Navy Minister Mitsumasa Yonai stood at the door, his eyes slowly sweeping over every army officer present.

His eyes were as calm as a bottomless lake, yet they made people shudder.

He nodded slightly, a faint sneer appearing at the corner of his mouth: "Gentlemen, it seems that you have misunderstood something?"

No one responded. Army Minister Sugiyama Hajime gripped the back of the chair tightly with his fingers, his knuckles turned white and veins bulged. His lips moved a few times, and in the end, only a low gurgling sound came out of his throat.

Mitsumasa Yonai walked slowly into the conference room, his military boots making a dull sound as they stepped on the floor. The naval staff following him saluted in unison, and the sound of their leather heels colliding was particularly harsh in the silent room.

"Gentlemen, please calm down." Mitsumasa Yonai's voice was low, but like a sharp scalpel, it precisely cut through the boiling anger. "Impulsiveness won't solve the problem."

His gaze lingered on everyone's face for a moment, finally landing on Sugiyama Gen: "We are all fighting for the glory of the empire, aren't we?"

Sugiyama Gen's Adam's apple rolled up and down, and he finally sat down slowly.

The atmosphere in the conference room was still tense, but the roaring had indeed disappeared, replaced by a suffocating depression.

"The news from Tianjin, shouldn't the Minister of the Army tell us? You can't let our navy take the blame!" Pulling out a chair, Mitsumasa Yonai sat down, staring at Sugiyama Hajime opposite him and said with a smile.

Sugiyama Gen was startled for a moment, then smiled wryly: "Your navy is quite well-informed. I just got the news from His Majesty, and you came here."

"Hmph, if I don't come over, will you put the blame on our navy?" Mitsumasa Yonai pulled the table with both hands, leaned forward and continued: "You, the army, must not only reflect on yourselves this time, but also give an explanation to our navy!

Otherwise, our navy will never give up! Let the army swim to reinforce Shanghai!"

At this moment, the conference room was filled with whispers like an undercurrent. The officers, unable to understand the subtle exchange between the two ministers, looked back and forth between them with bewildered eyes, some even muttering, "What the hell is going on?"

Sugiyama Gen shook his head helplessly and waved to the Vice Minister of the Army, Umezu Michijiro, who was standing beside him.

The latter sighed, took out two documents from his briefcase, and gently placed them on the table in front of Sugiyama Gen.

The cover of the document was stamped with a bright red "Top Secret" seal, which glowed strangely under the light.

It was not until this moment that everyone woke up from their dream. Just when they were passionate and clamoring to settle accounts with the navy, the Army Vice Minister Michijiro Umezu, who had been the most active in such matters in the past, had remained unusually silent throughout the whole process.

This is completely different from his usual style of speaking actively and showing off his views.

"Everyone." Sugiyama Gen's voice suddenly sounded, steady and powerful, instantly attracting everyone's attention.

He picked up the first document and raised it slightly. "This is top secret information I just received from His Majesty. It comes from General Yingqi of the Tianjin Military Police Headquarters of the Imperial Military Police."

After introducing the first document, Sugiyama Gen picked up another one and gently stroked the cover with his fingers. His eyes became unusually serious. "This one contains intelligence from General Ueda Kenkichi of the Kwantung Army Headquarters some time ago."

The conference room was completely silent, and everyone's eyes were fixed on the two documents, as if they could see through the cover to the contents inside.

"These two pieces of intelligence indicate an extremely serious problem." Sugiyama Gen's gaze slowly swept over every officer present, finally stopping on Mitsumasa Yonai.

"Before I explain the situation, I must reflect on myself." Sugiyama Gen suddenly stood up, straightened his back, and bowed deeply to everyone. "I ignored General Ueda's warning and didn't realize the seriousness of the situation! This is what led to the current situation!"

After saying this, Sugiyama Gen sat down again, folded his hands on the table, and his expression was terrifyingly solemn.

Because of some things that happened some time ago, his position was in jeopardy and he had already made plans to go home and retire.

However, as time went by and the war situation developed, he, the Minister of the Army, regained his spirits. However, he did not expect that he would encounter such a difficult problem just as he was getting stronger.

"Hmph, so pretentious!" Mitsumasa Yonai suddenly snorted with disdain, his face full of ridicule and contempt.

He folded his arms across his chest, leaned back in his chair, and glanced disdainfully at the army generals present.

His voice was not loud, but it was like a sharp knife, piercing Sugiyama Gen's heart accurately.

The atmosphere in the conference room instantly dropped to freezing point, and even the sound of breathing became clearly audible.

. . . . . . . .

More than an hour later, the Army Telecommunications Room

The crackling sound of radio waves echoed in the small room.

The communications officer's fingers moved rapidly on the transmitter, and groups of encrypted messages flew to the distance through the radio waves.

Outside the window, a flash of lightning suddenly streaked across the sky above Kyoto, illuminating the nervous faces in the telecommunications room.

The communications officer looked out the window, then quickly lowered his head, his fingers still dancing rapidly on the transmitter.

Mijiro Umezu withdrew his gaze from the communications officer's hand pressing the telephone key, turned his head to look out the window at the heavy rain pouring down and the cherry trees swaying in the strong wind, lost in thought.

He knew that this telegram would change the fate of many people, but that was not something he needed to consider.

Tianjin, Japanese Concession.

The war in Shanghai did not affect Tianjin. Because the entire Tianjin was occupied, the Japanese concession seemed more prosperous, and Japanese expatriates on the streets walked with their heads held high.

Even the wanderers who couldn't make it in their home country and came to China to make a living looked arrogant and staggered as they walked.

The sunlight shines through the gaps between the leaves of the plane trees, casting mottled light and shadows on the asphalt road in the Japanese Concession.

At the door of the izakaya on the corner of the street, a Japanese man with a small mustache, shirtless and wearing only a loincloth, walked with his head held high. He deliberately stepped on the puddles on the roadside with his bare feet, and the splashing water soiled the trouser legs of the Chinese coolies on the roadside.

The coolie shrank his neck, not daring to look up, but silently moved the carrying pole onto his shoulder.

After the Japanese businessman walked away, the coolie dared to spit on the ground: "Just a few days ago, he was dressed in a suit and tie, looking very respectable. But today, the military police have beaten him to the point where he is left with only his underwear! What the hell is this!"

Obviously, this coolie knew the Japanese man who had just passed by and was only wearing a loincloth.

Before he could finish his words, a commotion erupted around the corner. Several drunken ronin were staggering along, their katanas clinking with each step.

They deliberately kicked over the trash cans on the roadside with their clogs, splashing filth onto the passing Chinese coolies.

The coolie shrank his neck and dared not say a word.

"Baka!" The drunks suddenly attacked, picked up the wine bottles at hand and smashed them at the coolies.

Amid the crisp sound of shattering, the coolie ran away with his head in his hands, while the perpetrator let out a shrill laugh.

Turning the corner, several Japanese military police armed with live ammunition were leaning against a telephone pole smoking.

Seeing this, the drunks immediately fell silent and bowed politely, their arrogance disappearing without a trace.

The military police finished the last puff of his cigarette and, without waiting for the drunks to leave, rushed over and smashed the ronin's head with the butt of his rifle. "Baga! Who allowed you to run wild in the Japanese concession?"

Drunk man: …

In just a few days, these Japanese expatriates who were originally immersed in the joy of victory, as well as the vagrants who came from afar to make a living after hearing that Tianjin had been occupied, also experienced the same treatment as their compatriots far away in Harbin.

One word to describe it: miserable...

The rules are stricter than those in mainland Japan, which means that the money in the pockets of those disobedient Japanese who want to be the emperor is visibly getting thinner. . . .

Zhou Zhengqing, who was staying in the small building of the military police headquarters, didn't care about the military police's various ways of fines to make money.

At this moment, he was sitting upright on the sofa, his face full of confusion and struggle.

The teacup on the table reflected his distorted reflection, and there seemed to be a bitter smile on the corner of his mouth.

Zhou Zhengqing slowly closed his eyes, as if to block out all of this.

But he knew that some things could not be avoided by closing his eyes.

The system that originally collapsed!

Restarted!

The mission of killing nearly 20,000 devils was suddenly completed!