Chapter 209: The Death of Yingzuo Eiichi

Kouji was cautious by nature.

He had originally been holding a gun, but after spotting a crowbar on the ground, he picked it up instead.

He did not throw the door open immediately.

Instead, he opened it slowly.

At the same time, he stepped forward with his left foot and bent his knee slightly, while his right foot remained behind with only the toe touching the ground.

This ensured that his entire body was stretched like a drawn bowstring.

If anything went wrong, he could instantly lunge forward like an arrow released from a bow and block the door at once.

Kouji was already cautious enough.

Liao Zhishen outside the door was even more cautious.

He had no intention whatsoever of coming face-to-face with Kouji.

The moment the door opened about a quarter of the way, Liao Zhishen suddenly slammed forward.

At the same time, the paper-wrapped package in his hand flew toward the doorway.

Kouji reacted entirely on instinct.

He swung the crowbar at the object flying through the air.

The paper package burst apart instantly.

The lime powder wrapped inside exploded outward and struck him full in the face.

“Ah!”

Lime powder poured into Kouji’s eyes, and he let out a scream of agony.

That scream was like a signal.

From the alley came the sound of crackling firecrackers.

At the same time, Liao Zhishen pulled out his pistol and fired three shots in rapid succession at Kouji.

Every shot struck a vital area.

The moment Kouji screamed, Yingzuo Eiichi snapped awake.

Instinctively, he jumped to his feet and looked toward the doorway.

He saw Kouji being shot repeatedly at close range by a man.

The loyal subordinate he had brought with him from the South Manchuria Railway Investigation Department collapsed to the ground like a piece of torn cloth.

“Your Excellency Yingzuo, be careful!”

Eguchi Hideya had sobered up as well.

With a shout, he quickly pulled a pistol from a drawer beneath the dining table and handed it to Yingzuo Eiichi.

Yingzuo Eiichi had originally intended to draw the gun from his waist.

Instead, almost instinctively, he accepted the pistol Eguchi Hideya handed him.

At the same time, he rolled across the floor and raised the gun to fire.

Click!

No bullets.

Before Yingzuo Eiichi could react, his wrist was struck by a bullet from Liao Zhishen.

The empty pistol fell to the floor.

At the same time, continuous gunfire erupted behind him.

Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang!

“That’s enough, Yingzuo is dead.”

Looking at Yingzuo Eiichi, who had been hit by seven bullets, his chest almost blown apart and already dead, Liao Zhishen shouted to Eguchi Hideya.

Eguchi Hideya ignored him.

Bang!

A bullet struck Yingzuo Eiichi in the head.

His skull exploded, brain matter and blood splattering everywhere.

Then, expressionless, Eguchi Hideya handed the Mauser pistol he held to the Nationalist agent standing before him.

Liao Zhishen accepted the pistol and shouted loudly,

“Mr. Eguchi, come with me. We have a boat waiting at the back door.”

He had to shout because the firecrackers in the alley were still exploding.

“Shoot me.”

Pointing at himself, Eguchi Hideya roared in a low voice.

“What?” Liao Zhishen froze.

“Shoot me!”

His eyes bloodshot and his expression twisted, Eguchi Hideya shouted,

“I’m not leaving. I’ll stay in Shanghai. We’ll continue cooperating.”

There was no time to waste.

Liao Zhishen looked deeply at Eguchi Hideya, retreated four or five steps, and raised his pistol.

Bang!

A bullet struck Eguchi Hideya in the shoulder.

With a scream, he collapsed to the ground.

Struggling back up, he crawled backward and exposed his back to the shooter.

“It isn’t enough!” he growled.

Liao Zhishen was stunned by the Japanese man’s madness.

He raised his pistol again.

Bang!

The bullet struck Eguchi Hideya’s other shoulder.

“Take care.”

Looking at Eguchi Hideya lying wounded on the ground, Liao Zhishen spoke.

He had never imagined that one day he would admire a Japanese man.

Moreover, according to Section Chief Song Fuguo, his impression of Eguchi had always been that of a coward afraid of death.

Yet this supposedly death-fearing Japanese man had abandoned the chance to leave Shanghai and instead chosen to remain behind.

He had even been ruthless enough to do this to himself.

Holding his pistol in both hands, Liao Zhishen ran back into the courtyard, opened the rear door, rushed to the riverside, boarded a covered wooden boat, and quickly disappeared into the night.

Inside the room, Eguchi Hideya crawled across the floor, leaving a long trail of blood behind him.

He first picked up the pistol he had tampered with from beside Yingzuo’s body.

Then he took Yingzuo Eiichi’s own sidearm from the corpse and placed it in Yingzuo Eiichi’s hand.

Using Yingzuo Eiichi’s finger to pull the trigger, he fired twice.

One bullet struck the door.

The other struck the wall.

Then Eguchi Hideya removed the empty magazine from his own pistol.

Taking spare rounds from his body, he carefully loaded the magazine, reinserted it, and locked it into place with a sharp Click.

Lying prone on the ground, he fired two shots at the doorway.

Changing position, he aimed at a spot slightly offset, about a dozen centimetres from where Liao Zhishen had been standing, and fired two more shots.

The bullets struck the wall.

By then, the firecrackers outside had ceased.

Eguchi Hideya painfully crawled to the doorway.

Enduring the agony in his shoulders, he fired two shots into the air.

About two minutes later, hearing chaotic footsteps approaching, the severely blood-depleted Eguchi Hideya could no longer endure it and lost consciousness.

“Eguchi doesn’t trust us,” Cheng Qianfan said coldly.

“He trusts only himself. He trusts only value. Eguchi believes that only by remaining valuable can he stay alive. That’s why he chose to stay, to remain in China as our mole.”

Song Fuguo agreed with Cheng Qianfan’s analysis.

He nodded.

“That’s fine. As long as Eguchi Hideya passes the investigation following this incident, we’ll have an extremely important nail driven into the enemy’s ranks.”

“Eguchi will be fine,” Cheng Qianfan said.

“No one would imagine that a hero commended by the Japanese military would attack his future superior. He was ruthless enough with himself. Those two gunshots are sufficient to prevent suspicion from falling on him.”

As he spoke, Cheng Qianfan lowered the brim of his hat and nodded to Song Fuguo.

“Section Chief Song, now that everything here is settled, please send a telegram to Nanjing on my behalf and report the good news to the Director.”

Deeply moved, Song Fuguo patted Cheng Qianfan on the shoulder.

“You played a major role in this operation. I’ll report everything truthfully.”

“I’ve never worried about your character, old leader.”

Cheng Qianfan smiled, cupped his fists, and said,

“Farewell.”

After Cheng Qianfan departed, Song Fuguo clapped his hands.

A subordinate pushed open the door and entered.

“Notify Dang Laosi. The plan is cancelled,” Song Fuguo said gravely.

Dang Laosi was a river bandit.

Had Eguchi Hideya boarded the boat to escape, he would never have seen the next sunrise.

After weaving through streets and alleys for more than twenty minutes, Cheng Qianfan and Haozai boarded an automobile at the entrance of an alley.

Li Hao drove slowly.

“Drop me off at the next intersection. Drive Haozai back,” Cheng Qianfan said.

Li Hao looked at the rear-view mirror in surprise.

According to the plan, he was supposed to drive Brother Fan to the next dock, where Brother Fan would kill Eguchi Hideya.

“No need anymore.”

Cheng Qianfan spoke slowly.

Then he chuckled softly.

“Smart man.”

The vehicle slowly stopped at an alley entrance.

Cheng Qianfan had already changed his disguise inside the car.

He was now wearing a suit and a fedora.

Walking through the alley, he turned midway toward Vegetable Market Street.

After another ten minutes or so, he emerged and raised a hand.

“Rickshaw.”

“Number Three Baliqiao Road. I’m in a hurry.”

“Sit tight, sir.”

The puller wiped sweat with a filthy towel and shouted.

The rickshaw puller ran on.

Drops of sweat fell.

The wind blew, carrying the hot air of late June in Shanghai.

In the distance came the shrill wail of police sirens.

Military trucks loaded with armed soldiers drove past.

Yingzuo Eiichi, nephew of Colonel Yingzuo Teiaki, military attaché of the Japanese Consulate General in Shanghai, and a senior official of the Shanghai Special Higher Police Section, had been assassinated along with his loyal subordinate Kouji.

Hero agent Eguchi Hideya, who had only recently been commended by the Japanese military, was wounded by gunfire during the assassination and was “of uncertain life or death.”

Xiao Zhenzhong, the National Revolutionary Army traitor who had defected to the Japanese, was executed by the Special Service Office.

Two Japanese rōnin were also killed.

This night in Greater Shanghai was destined to be anything but peaceful.

The rickshaw puller was unsurprised.

His steps of survival never paused.

Cheng Qianfan lowered the brim of his hat, flicked out a cigarette, took out a kerosene lighter, and lit it.

Beneath his calm expression, excitement surged through his heart.

He was on his way to meet his elder sister.

A telegram had arrived from the northwest.

The organization’s investigation into him had finally concluded.