Spy war in the Republic of China, peak undercover

Lu Yang's ears buzzed, and the crosshairs in the scope locked onto the gray-robed figure. He wasn't Japanese, but spoke pure Jinling dialect, his tone tinged with official rhetoric. His mind raced: Central Bureau of Investigation? Military Bureau of Investigation? Or perhaps a lackey of the Wang Puppet regime? This "Dongfeng" was clearly not present, but the manipulator behind the scenes.

There was no time for further reflection; the transaction at the dock had already begun. The gray-robed man opened the suitcase, revealing several sealed glass bottles. A green liquid swayed under the dim light, identical to the sample found at the chemical plant. The lieutenant took a bottle, squinted his eyes, and nodded with satisfaction. "Okay, the boat's waiting downstream. We'll leave at dawn."

Lu Yang took a deep breath, his finger on the trigger. He could shoot now, kill them, and take the sample, but that would only alert the enemy. Dongfeng was still lurking in the shadows. He released the trigger and pulled a miniature tracker from his waistband—a high-tech gadget he'd brought with him from 2025. It was as small as a button, but it could lock onto a signal within ten kilometers. He aimed at the suitcase and flicked it lightly. The tracker silently adhered to the edge of the case.

The transaction concluded, the gray-robed man and the lieutenant dispersed, and the dock returned to a dead silence. Lu Yang sheathed his sniper rifle and whispered to Qing Lan, who was hiding nearby, "Follow them, don't do anything." Qing Lan nodded and followed silently with Xiao He and Xiao Jiang. Lu Yang turned and returned to the mill. Zhang Hannian was tied up in a corner, his mouth gagged with cloth, his eyes as cold as a venomous snake.

Lu Yang squatted down, ripped the cloth from his mouth, and asked coldly, "Is 'Dongfeng' from the Central Bureau of Investigation and Statistics or the Military Bureau of Investigation and Statistics?" Zhang Hannian panted, grinning, "Guess, Major General Lu." "Major General?" Lu Yang's eyes darkened. This guy knew his Military Bureau identity, which meant the traitor was quite high-ranking. He sneered, took out a dagger, and waved it in front of Zhang Hannian's eyes. "Guess wrong, and you'll die here."

Zhang Hannian's throat churned, and he whispered, "'Dongfeng' isn't Japanese, it's one of ours... a man named Dai..." Lu Yang was startled. A man named Dai? Dai Li, the head of the Military Control Commission? He narrowed his eyes, and the dagger in his hand drew a faint bloody mark on Zhang Hannian's neck. "Did Boss Dai do it himself, or did someone impersonate him?" "I don't know..." Zhang Hannian's voice faltered. "I only heard from 'Shadow' that 'Dongfeng' was a high-ranking official, in charge of the Eastern Front..."

"The eastern front," Lu Yang snorted. "From Nanjing to Shanghai, it's all sparks of 'fire.'" He stood up, his mind racing. Dai Li was the head of the Military Control Commission, a man with connections everywhere. If it were really him, the biological weapons program wouldn't just be a Japanese conspiracy, but a three-way game between the Kuomintang, the Communist Party, and Japan. However, he was more inclined to believe someone was acting in Dai Li's name; Boss Dai wouldn't necessarily be involved in such dirty work himself.

Footsteps were heard outside the door, and Qing Lan pushed it open and entered, lowering her voice: "The box has been loaded onto the boat and is heading downstream along the Qinhuai River." Lu Yang nodded and pulled out a palm-sized receiver from his pocket. A small red dot slowly moved on the screen—the tracker was working. He sneered: "Let's go and catch a boat downstream."

At one in the morning, a black car sat dark in the reeds of the lower Qinhuai River, its engine turned off. Lu Yang led a few men to the riverbank. A small, unassuming wooden boat drifted on the surface, and faint whispers emanated from the cabin. He raised his sniper rifle, scanning the bow. A Japanese soldier leaned against the railing, smoking, his face flushed red in the flames.

"Go ahead." Lu Yang shouted softly, and the gunshot rang out, muffled by the silencer. The soldier's eyebrows burst open, and he fell into the water with a plop. Qinglan and Xiaohe immediately jumped onto the boat, their guns pointed at the hatch. The two Japanese soldiers inside were knocked down as soon as they drew their guns, and blood stained the ground. Xiaojiang rushed into the cabin, dragged out the black suitcase, and said breathlessly, "It's all here."

Lu Yang opened the box. The glass bottle was intact, the green liquid swaying in the moonlight like a living will-o'-the-wisp. He said coldly, "Take it back. Lao Liu has a place to test it." Qing Lan frowned. "What about the boat?" "Burn it." Lu Yang pulled an incendiary bomb from his waist, pulled the ring and tossed it into the cabin. Flames shot up into the sky, and the wooden boat instantly became a fireball, casting a blood-red shadow on the river.

Back at the gray building in Suzhou, it was just dawn. Lao Liu stared at the glass bottles on the table, frowned, and asked, "How many more did you get back?" "Enough to blow up half of Nanjing." Lu Yang leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. "Go find your chemist and check it out." Lao Liu nodded and turned to leave. Lu Yang exhaled a puff of smoke, his eyes as cold as ice. He knew that the shadow of "Dongfeng" had not yet dissipated, and the fire of "Spark" was still burning. And he had to fight his way out of this chaotic world - not for anything else, just to survive and smash this mess to pieces.

Along the Suzhou Creek, the morning mist had not yet dissipated, a gray haze draping the city like a veil. Lu Yang stood by the window, gazing at the gently flowing river in the distance, a mixture of emotions welling up in his heart. He understood that the germ weapon "spark" had been activated, and Nanjing was about to become the central battlefield of the conspiracy. As a Red Agent who had traveled from 2025, he had to quickly locate and destroy this threat.

Back in the house, Lao Liu was checking the glass bottle with a frown: "How dangerous is this thing?" Lu Yang didn't answer, but walked to Zhang Hannian, squatted down, and stared at him with eyes like knives: "Do you really think that 'Dongfeng' will save you? The Japanese never show mercy after using up their chess pieces." Zhang Hannian's face was pale, and a trace of fear flashed in his eyes, but he still gritted his teeth and said nothing.

Lu Yang stood up and said calmly and coldly, "Sixth Brother, prepare the car, take Zhang Hannian with you, and we're going to Nanjing." Sixth Brother was stunned for a moment, the pliers in his hand still stained with blood. "You just got back last night, why are you in such a hurry?" Lu Yang glanced at him coldly. "Last night was just a test. Today we have to dig out the truth."

The men gathered their equipment, tied up Zhang Hannian securely, and stuffed a rag in his mouth. Lu Yang pulled the disassembled sniper rifle parts from his pocket and expertly assembled them. This was the weapon he had brought with him on his time travel, and it also became his most trusted companion. The car started, the roar of the engine shattering the morning stillness. Silence reigned in the car, broken only by the sounds of Zhang Hannian's breathing and Qing Lan's occasional tapping of the rifle barrel.

The car sped toward Nanjing, the scenery swiftly passing by. Lu Yang closed his eyes, and the image of 1938 surfaced in his mind: war raged, Nanjing under the Japanese army's iron hoof had just experienced the massacre. Now, he was in this chaotic world, facing an even more formidable enemy—the "Spark." This operation was not just a mission, but a life-or-death struggle. He stroked his sniper rifle, thinking to himself: To stop the spread of the "Spark," he must find the true "Dongfeng" and destroy all specimens. Every step was fraught with uncertainty and danger, and a single misstep could lead to disaster.

It was dusk when we arrived in Nanjing. The setting sun shone like blood in the sky, casting a particularly eerie shadow on the alleys near Confucius Temple. Lu Yang and his men donned Japanese uniforms, posing as patrolmen. He donned his military cap, the brim pulled low, a Nambu pistol tucked into his waistband, his boots clacking against the ground. Qinglan and Xiaohe muttered curses in fluent Japanese, their voices perfectly rendered.

"Xiao Jiang, there's something going on up ahead." Xiao Jiang lowered his voice, pointing to the old house deep in the alley. Lu Yang squinted, seeing a faint light coming through the window and a figure swaying. He adjusted his military cap and whispered in Japanese, "Surround and prepare to break in."

Several people dispersed, scrambling along the wall. Lu Yang pulled out a silenced pistol and leaned against the door, listening for a moment. A low, Japanese conversation rang out from inside: "The sample has been sent. 'Dongfeng' will meet tonight." "Where are Lu Yang's gang?" "Hmph, still wandering around Suzhou Creek. 'Shadow' has set up an ambush."

Lu Yang's lips curled up slightly, a hint of a sneer on his face. He gestured, and Qinglan kicked the door open, followed by a burst of gunfire. The three Japanese soldiers inside were knocked down before they could even react, blood splattering all over the floor. He gathered the scattered maps and documents on the table. He snatched up a piece of paper marking the "Dongfeng" rendezvous point and stuffed it into his pocket. "Retreat!" Lu Yang shouted, and the others rushed out of the old house, disappearing into the night.

Night fell, shrouding the Qinhuai River wharf in darkness, only a distant light flickering in the distance. Lu Yang led his men infiltrating, hiding in the shadows of an abandoned mill. The wharf was deserted, the wind rustling the reeds. He set up his sniper rifle when suddenly, a gray-robed figure appeared, his steps deliberate. The transaction began. The gray-robed figure opened a suitcase, revealing a glass bottle, and the lieutenant nodded in satisfaction.

Lu Yang used the tracker again, attaching it to the edge of the suitcase. After the transaction, he whispered to Qinglan to follow, then returned to the milling room, untied Zhang Hannian's rope, and handed him an inscribed brick: "Go east, turn left when you see the river, someone will pick you up." Zhang Hannian took it with trembling hands and nodded.

Lu Yang followed the gray-robed figure to the dilapidated warehouse. The gray-robed figure and the lieutenant opened the suitcase and took out the documents and metal box. The lieutenant said anxiously, "Get rid of them quickly." The gray-robed figure raised the dagger, and Lu Yang's heartbeat quickened—the box held a crucial clue. He threw a stone to distract the figure, then rushed forward, knocking the gray-robed figure aside, snatched the suitcase, and fled.

The gray-robed figure shouted, "I'm chasing you!" Lu Yang ran through the alley, to the river, and jumped in, drifting downstream. The icy water enveloped him, but he gritted his teeth and swam, shaking off his pursuer. As he climbed ashore, the sky was turning white. He gasped, clutching the metal box tightly, knowing that this battle had only just begun.