Spy war in the Republic of China, peak undercover

Night fell over Suzhou, and the autumn wind of 1938, with its damp chill, seeped in through the cracks in the windows of the dilapidated safe house.

Lu Yang, Qinglan, Xiaohe, and Xiaojiang, hurried out of the house. Wu Dashan's panting was gradually muffled by the wind behind him. He didn't look back, his mind preoccupied with Wu Dashan's words, "A new world ruled by Zero." This wasn't just a simple Japanese conspiracy, but a deeper ambition, a variable that even a time traveler like him hadn't anticipated.

The streets were sparsely populated, with only a few rickshaw drivers hunching their necks as they hurried along. Lu Yang lowered his hat and whispered to Qing Lan, "Is the rickshaw ready?"

"At the entrance of the alley," Qinglan lowered his voice, "Lao Liu got a Japanese truck and disguised it as a grain transport team."

"Okay," Lu Yang nodded, "Take the small road so as not to alert the spies in the city."

They entered the alley and saw a Japanese truck covered in canvas parked in the dark, its engine humming softly. Lao Liu, who was smoking by the door, tossed his cigarette butt when he saw them approaching. "Get in! Nanjing Road is a long way."

Lu Yang patted the carriage and climbed in with Xiao He and Xiao Jiang, while Qing Lan sat in the passenger seat. He pulled the pen left behind by "Sakura" from his pocket and examined it again in the dim moonlight. The discovery of the miniature transmitter made his heart beat faster—who was "Sakura"? Why did she leave this clue? As a time traveler, he was familiar with the intelligence methods of later generations. This pen might be the key to his breakthrough in Project Zero.

The truck started up, jolting out of Suzhou and heading along the dirt road toward Nanjing. Inside the car, Xiao He clutched a short knife and whispered, "Brother Lu, is 'Zero' really one of us?"

Lu Yang glanced at him and said in a deep voice, "It's hard to say. He could be a puppet supported by the Japanese, or he could be a traitor from the Military Control Commission or the Central Control Commission."

Xiao Jiang frowned: "What about 'Dongfeng'? Is he in cahoots with 'Zero'?"

"It's not clear yet," Lu Yang rubbed his temple, "but 'Dongfeng' is in charge of the eastern line, and 'Zero' might be behind it. We have to find the source of 'Spark' first."

In the middle of the night, as the sky began to turn pale, the truck stopped in a desolate forest outside Nanjing. Lao Liu jumped out and whispered, "There's a Japanese checkpoint ahead. We can't get through."

Lu Yang peered out and saw several figures swaying in the distance, their bayonets gleaming coldly in the morning light. He narrowed his eyes, pulled the sniper rifle parts from his bag, and expertly assembled them. This was the weapon he had brought back from 2025, a weapon far superior to that of this era. He whispered, "I'll clear the path. Wait for the signal."

He ducked into the woods, slinking along the shadows of the trees until he reached a hundred meters from the checkpoint. Through his scope, he saw three Japanese soldiers huddled around a fire, warming themselves. A man who looked like an officer stood nearby, holding a map. Lu Yang took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. The silencer muffled the sound, and the officer's brow furrowed as he fell to the ground. Two more shots followed, and the soldier collapsed before he could even scream.

He waved, and the truck slowly drove over. Qinglan jumped out, picked up the map, and whispered, "There are a few red dots on it, and there are three in Nanjing."

Lu Yang took a look at it. The red dots were concentrated in the southern part of the city, and one of them was marked "Warehouse 3." He sneered, "Warehouse , the home of the 'Fire Seed'."

Abandoning their vehicle, several men set out on foot, disguised as refugees, to infiltrate Nanjing. At dawn, the city lay in ruins. Refugees, dragging tattered packages, crowded the streets. Occasionally, a Japanese patrol passed by, the clatter of boots piercing the ears. Lu Yang led his team south of the city, finding the warehouse on the map—a nondescript gray brick building. Two Japanese trucks were parked in front, and several soldiers were moving wooden crates.

"Qinglan, you and Xiaohe go around from the left," Lu Yang whispered. "Xiaojiang, follow me to the front, and Laoliu will guard the rear."

The men dispersed, and Lu Yang lowered his hat, changed into the Japanese uniform he had snatched from the checkpoint, and swaggered toward the warehouse. He shouted in fluent Japanese, "The Major has ordered us to inspect the goods!"

The soldier at the door was stunned for a moment, then saluted: "Ha, sir!"

Lu Yang walked into the warehouse, which was filled with wooden crates. The air was thick with disinfectant and musty odors. He casually opened a crate, revealing a sealed glass bottle. A green liquid swayed in the dim light, exactly like the "fire" Wu Dashan had described. His heart raced, but he remained calm. He asked the soldier next to him in Japanese, "When will these be shipped out?"

"Tonight," the soldier whispered, "we're going to Shanghai."

Just as he finished speaking, a muffled knock came from the back door of the warehouse. Lao Liu rushed in, shouting, "There's an ambush!" Then, gunshots rang out, and a dozen men in black rushed out from behind the boxes, submachine guns in hand. Lu Yang reacted quickly, pulling out his pistol and firing three shots. The two men in black fell to the ground. He shouted, "Retreat!"

Qinglan and Xiaohe charged from the side, knife and pistol in hand, the air instantly filled with the smell of blood. Xiaojiang threw a smoke bomb, sending a thick cloud of smoke billowing. Several men took advantage of the chaos to rush out of the warehouse. Gunfire rang out from behind, bullets grazing the corner of the wall. Lu Yang glanced back and saw a man in a robe standing at the warehouse door. His hat was pulled down, his face obscured, yet a chilling presence emanated from him.

"Is that 'zero'?" Xiaohe asked breathlessly.

"Not necessarily," Lu Yang narrowed his eyes, "maybe he's Dongfeng's subordinate."

They slipped into a narrow alley, escaping their pursuers. Lu Yang leaned against the wall, pulled out a pen, adjusted the frequency, and sent a telegram: "Fire detected in Nanjing warehouse, requesting support." He knew the signal could reach Sakura or the enemy, but right now, he had no choice but to take a gamble.

As the night deepened, the wind howled outside Nanjing. Lu Yang looked at the map in his hand. The red dots, like bloodstains, stung his eyelids. He whispered, "The cargo can't leave tonight. We have to blow it up."

Qinglan nodded: "How?"

"Use this," Lu Yang said, pulling out a time bomb from the future from his package. He sneered, "Let Zero know that the fire can't reach Shanghai."