Espionage: Mastering the Ten Cruelest Tortures of the Military Intelligence Bureau from the Start

"Hahaha! Mingzhe, you're really amazing! You truly deserve to be the pillar of our Chang'an Station!"

The stationmaster's face lit up with joy, his eyes filled with admiration.

When he saw that Su Mingzhe had once again successfully seized a radio and captured a Japanese agent who had close ties with the mole, the station chief's joy was indescribable.

He excitedly reached out, instinctively wanting to pat Su Mingzhe on the shoulder.

However, the stationmaster remembered that Su Mingzhe had just been injured, so his outstretched hand hung in mid-air, unsure whether to slap it down or pull it back, leaving him feeling somewhat awkward.

Seeing this, Su Mingzhe quickly reached out and shook the stationmaster's hands tightly, instantly easing the awkwardness.

"I want to interrogate this person myself. Let's go to the interrogation room."

The station manager said in an unquestionable tone.

The two entered the interrogation room one after the other.

The heavy door closed slowly behind them, making a dull and oppressive sound.

Inside the interrogation room, the dim light flickered, casting indistinct shadows on the surroundings.

A nauseating, bloody stench filled the air; the pungent smell seemed to penetrate every pore, making one's stomach churn.

The screams of the Japanese spies rose and fell, piercing people's eardrums.

Shen Beizheng, holding pliers, expressionlessly pulled out the Japanese spy's fingernails one by one.

Each time a fingernail was pulled out, a string of blood beads would appear, the crimson color particularly glaring in the dim light.

The Japanese spy trembled all over in pain, his facial muscles contorted, and he let out a heart-wrenching wail.

It can only be said that Shen Bei has truly inherited Su Mingzhe's skills and is ruthless in his interrogation methods.

As soon as the station chief entered the interrogation room, he saw this scene. He frowned slightly, a hint of displeasure on his face.

Then, he took out a clean white handkerchief from his pocket and covered his nose, seemingly trying to block out the pungent smell of blood.

"Mingzhe, your men are too sloppy in their work."

The likely traitor has been identified and taken into custody, while the team members who went to investigate will not be back for some time.

There was plenty of time, and there was no rush to get a confession.

With the level of torture inflicted by Su Mingzhe, purely physical damage, the Japanese spies would be tortured to death in no time.

The art of torture is to keep the prisoner alive, thus stimulating their will to live and gradually wearing down their mind through relentless torment until they finally confess.

Hearing the stationmaster say this, Su Mingzhe nodded slightly and gave the order to Shen Bei:

"Change it to a salt water whip."

There's no rush now, so we might as well take it slow.

Upon hearing this, Shen Bei immediately put down the pliers in his hand, turned around and picked up the whip next to him.

Shen Bei swung his whip, making a "whoosh" sound in the air.

Each lash left a deep, bloody welt on the Japanese spy's body.

The Japanese spy's face was contorted in agony as he wailed incessantly; the pained cries echoed through the interrogation room, sending chills down one's spine.

His body twisted and turned incessantly, trying to avoid the whipping, but to no avail.

The execution lasted for three hours, the long time seemingly frozen in time, every minute and every second filled with pain and torment.

Just as the station chief and Su Mingzhe were about to have dinner, the Japanese spy finally couldn't bear the endless pain and confessed.

"My name is Shimizu Yutaro, and I don't have a code name."

Su Ran Photo Studio was our refuge, and also the location where Butterfly sent messages.

The other four men went to carry out the assassination but failed; you've all seen that.

The five of us were specifically there to lie in wait and be activated at specific times to carry out our mission.

Yutaro Shimizu's voice was weak and hoarse, his face full of exhaustion and pain, and every word seemed to have taken all his strength.

The stationmaster had just stood up when he heard the Japanese spy's confession and sat back down.

His eyes flashed with a sharp light as he asked Shimizu Yutaro:

"Who is the mole infiltrating our station? And how are you contacting him?"

Yutaro Shimizu had a complicated expression, a hint of hesitation in his eyes, and remained silent for a while.

However, what followed was another lash.

"I'll talk, I'll talk, please stop hitting me."

"The mole lurking in your station is your deputy station chief, Wang Shiji, codenamed Mantis."

His only way of contacting me was by personally assigning us tasks at the photo studio. Since he rarely went to photo studios, it didn't arouse suspicion.

Upon hearing this from the Japanese spy, the station chief immediately gave the order:

"Men, search Wang Shiji's house."

About two hours later, the agents who went to search returned, clutching a stack of documents in their hands.

The station manager flipped through the documents one by one, his expression growing increasingly grim.

These documents are all top-secret intelligence from the station; he had thought Chang'an Station was impregnable.

I never imagined that Chang'an Station would be like a prostitute, using just anyone.

"Bring Wang Shiji here. Let's see how he denies it in the face of irrefutable evidence."

"What a joke! Our deputy stationmaster at Chang'an Station is actually a Japanese spy. I wonder what Boss Dai's expression would be if he knew this."

The station manager was trembling with anger. He slammed his fist on the table, scattering the documents in his hand all over the floor.

But the more Su Mingzhe thought about it, the more uneasy he felt.

Everything went too smoothly.

Moreover, several doubts lingered in his mind.

The Japanese gunman clearly intended to kill him, and as the owner of the photo studio, he should have been the leader of the action team, yet he confessed after only being whipped a few times and having a few fingernails pulled out.

The assassination attempt started with grenades, so even if it succeeded, the group wouldn't be able to escape safely.

Why didn't Shimizu Yutaro evacuate before the operation started? Why did he have to wait until the operation failed, and then swagger away with a big box, as if he wanted everyone to know he was carrying a radio?

Furthermore, Shimizu Yutaro's testimony is full of doubts. Why did Deputy Station Chief Wang, who was an inside agent, personally go to assign tasks this morning?

Even if a task needed to be assigned, Deputy Station Chief Wang should have used a dead mail box or even written a code in the newspaper. Why did he choose the most dangerous method?

Deputy Station Chief Wang had just gone to the photo studio in the morning when the studio owner confessed his identity and fled at noon, as if afraid that others wouldn't know he was a Japanese spy. He even brought a radio with him.

There's also the issue of intelligence. As a marginal figure within the station, Deputy Station Chief Wang would find it difficult to obtain such a large amount of intelligence. Deliberately seeking intelligence would easily arouse suspicion. Among these individuals, Zhao Peng is actually the one most likely to have access to intelligence.

And why not destroy the intelligence after it has been transmitted, instead of waiting for someone else to discover it?

Finally, Su Mingzhe never heard the system's notification sound from beginning to end, which proves that this level of punishment is not even up to Shimizu Yutaro's most basic tolerance level, so why should he confess!

not good!

This was Shimizu Yutaro's plan to infiltrate the situation himself, with the aim of keeping the real Japanese spy hidden forever at Chang'an Station!

This scheme was so intricately linked that even Su Mingzhe almost fell for it.