Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

Italian Consul Lionel also eagerly joined in: "General, although we don't have a large banking network, we are sincere in our cooperation with you! We will not disappoint you on the price!"

"Sincerity?" French Consul Renoir nearly stood up, his spit practically spraying onto the table. "We in France are truly based on trade! Our companies are spread all over the world! We are absolutely the most flexible and competitive in terms of pricing!"

The air in the room suddenly heated up.

The tense hostility between Britain and France was almost visible to the naked eye, and the intervention of Italy and Germany was like pouring boiling oil on the fire.

The voices of several consuls began to mix and overlap, and the content of their conversations also changed from promoting their own advantages to open and covert attacks and mocking and denigrating their neighbors.

Zhou Zhengqing was still leaning back in the comfortable armchair, his eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the fierce yet expected noisy battle in front of him, as if he was enjoying a wonderful Western play performed just to please him.

Just as the tension between Britain, France, and Italy threatened to ignite the entire room, the sharp, razor-sharp voice of German Minister Clemens von Kettel suddenly cut in, like ice water poured into a scalding frying pan: "Sir Webster, Mr. Renoir." He tilted his head slightly, his gray-blue eyes piercing the two glaring opponents, "I have no intention of questioning the value of the cooperative channel you are so persistently arguing about.

But I have a more practical question.”

All sounds died down instantly, and all eyes turned to the German, who had been as quiet as granite.

Klind looked back at Zhou Zhengqing. His tone was extremely calm, as if he was stating an axiom that had nothing to do with him. "Respected General Yingqi, we are fully aware of the conditions you have proposed."

"The military police entered the concession to enforce the law." He paused, and his cold eyes passed across the faces of the other consuls: "For a European country that respects sovereignty, can you really make such a major concession?" He deliberately emphasized the word "sovereignty".

“But.” Klind leaned forward slightly, crossing his fingers on the table. This action gave him a stronger sense of oppression: “Germany no longer has any concessions to worry about in Tianjin.

You should know the history of 1917 better than I do."

His words were like a huge rock dropped into stagnant water.

British Consul Webster's expression instantly turned extremely ugly, and the smile of superiority on the corner of his mouth completely disappeared.

French Consul Renoir also frowned.

They probably guessed what Klind wanted to say...

They all understood the weight of Klind's words "no concessions". It was like a key that instantly opened the key psychological and sovereignty threshold set by Zhou Zhengqing for everyone.

The Germans did not have this shackle. The German concession was taken back by China after the defeat in World War I!

Zhou Zhengqing's fingers stopped stroking the cigar, and his eyes showed an inquiring interest.

Klind keenly caught the change in Zhou Zhengqing's eyes and immediately threw out his weight, his voice still terrifyingly calm: "The concession issue is no longer an obstacle for the German Empire and His Excellency the General.

Then, we can directly discuss the real core. General, what are your real needs besides the value of the strategic materials themselves?

I think it is not fair that money alone, or the exchange rate of pounds to francs, is so far from justifying the enormous price demanded by the general."

He paused for half a second, and the air was so tense that it seemed to freeze into ice.

Everyone was waiting for the Germans' next move.

"Germany." Klind's tone was more serious, with an unquestionable authority: "It has the world's most advanced chemical and pharmaceutical technology.

General Takazaki must have heard of the technology of the German pharmaceutical company.

We have advanced production equipment, the most efficient process, and the ability to ensure that our products meet the most stringent international quality standards.

If Your Excellency the General is interested in establishing some industry with unique strategic value in North China, especially in the Beijing-Tianjin area... " He deliberately slowed down his speech, his eyes as sharp as a hawk, piercing Zhou Zhengqing's eyes.

“For example, the high-purity medical morphine production plant you are planning to build is an investment that we believe will be extremely far-sighted and have long-term returns.

I understand that you have obtained authorization from our imperial pharmaceutical company.

But what I want to say is that we in Germany are willing to fully support you, provide more professional personnel, the most reliable technology transfer and core equipment to ensure the efficiency of the factory and the excellent quality of the products, so that the scale of the factory can be larger than what you are currently planning and it can be put into production faster!

"Morphine?" French Consul Renoir whispered subconsciously, with a flash of great shock in his eyes.

Real ripples finally emerged in Zhou Zhengqing's eyes, and a pure, sinister light of successfully catching prey flashed by.

He didn't look directly at Klind, but at Shen Xilin on the side.

Shen Xilin's eyes, which had been rolling around in the smoke, suddenly lit up, like a shark smelling blood.

He immediately took a small step forward, bowed his body just right, and spoke in a voice that was neither too high nor too low, with a well-trained humility and smoothness, right behind Zhou Zhengqing.

He nodded slightly towards British Consul Webster, a flattering smile on his face. "Sir Webster is absolutely right. The British Concession has abundant capital flows and a comprehensive system. It is naturally a world-class financial center."

Then he turned sideways and nodded to the French Consul Renoir: "The experience and efficiency of the French Concession pointed out by Mr. Renoir are even more eye-opening. It is indeed unique and exquisite!" His tone was smooth like an eel, moving smoothly between all parties.

"However," Shen Xilin changed the subject, speaking in a tone very similar to that of a street vendor, raising his hands in the air in a warm hug gesture, his tone suddenly becoming provocative: "The German Minister's far-sighted proposal is not just a simple business of buying and selling goods!"

He deliberately lowered his voice, but his eyes greedily swept over the other consuls who were shocked by the proposal: "Your Excellency Minister Klind, what you see is called an industrial chain, and it is technical support!

It’s the golden finger that increases the value of raw materials exponentially!” He exaggeratedly made a “midanalysis” gesture with his right hand: “This input-output ratio cannot be compared with those paper exchange rates that jump around!

This business will last a long time, and the foundation will be solid!" Shen Xilin smiled until his eyes narrowed into slits: "General, I think the sincerity of your Excellency is as real as gold that is not afraid of fire!"

Each of his compliments was filled with mercenary calculations. He seemed to be praising all parties, but in fact he portrayed the "morphine factory" given by Klind as a gold mine that was within reach and had huge profits, constantly teasing the bottom line nerves of others.

"Despicable!" French Consul Renoir's face turned pale. He finally couldn't help but clenched his fists and cursed in a low voice.