Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

Chapter 1172 The Chief Inspector Lets You In

After the ceremony, Zhou Zhengqing, accompanied by Hisaichi Terauchi and Masaki Yamaya, walked out of Huai Ren Tang.

The sunlight finally pierced through the clouds, but it did nothing to dispel the chill in the air; instead, it made the remaining snow and dust even more conspicuous.

On the way back to the hotel, Takasaki Takuto looked out the window at the desolate streets and apathetic people. Most of the shops on both sides of the street were closed, and the few that were open seemed lifeless.

He said to Terauchi Hisaichi beside him, "General Terauchi, the puppet government has been established, but this is only the beginning."

These Chinese people had very low identification with the puppet government; you could see it in their eyes—fear and anger, but no submission.

We must strengthen the supervision and control of the puppet governments to ensure that they can truly serve the empire and not give them any opportunity to engage in opportunism.

Once they are found to have ulterior motives, they must be removed immediately.

Terauchi Hisashi nodded in agreement, saying, "Takuto, you're right, I've observed that too! But I've already made arrangements in advance to have Kita Seiichi oversee the daily operations of the puppet government."

He would regularly report to us on the operation of the puppet government, and if any problems were discovered, he would deal with them immediately, ensuring that no accident would affect the great cause of the empire.

Zhou Zhengqing nodded slightly, said nothing more, and simply turned his gaze back to the window.

The scenery outside the car window slowly moved backward: numb people, desolate streets, and traces of humiliation were everywhere.

At the same time, Zhou Zhengqing also harbored a hint of suspicion.

It's too quiet...

The establishment of a puppet government—what a huge deal!

Normally, this would be like a poisoned dagger plunged into the heart of Chongqing.

When have those people in the Military Intelligence Bureau, especially Boss Dai, ever been treated like this?

Logically speaking, even if there weren't gunfire and carnage, at least a few fearless reporters would have "accidentally" captured some ugly scenes, or a few bombs would have exploded in some insignificant but disgusting place, ruining this "grand ceremony" and making those pretentious fools look foolish in front of the world.

This is Dai Li's style: ruthless, precise, and vindictive, always aiming to deliver a fatal blow to the enemy's most vulnerable moment.

However, no.

From the early morning security deployment to the morning's "inauguration ceremony," everything was eerily calm.

“Even if the people at the Beiping Military Intelligence Station are being closely watched and can’t find an opportunity to strike…” Zhou Zhengqing looked out the car window, his thoughts racing: “What about Dai Li? He has more than just the Beiping Station under his command; there’s also his superior.”

The slogan "To repel foreign aggression, we must first pacify the interior" was shouted loudly. Could we just stand by and watch this flag be raised atop Beiping (Beijing) without doing anything? That would be more humiliating than a direct slap in the face.

If something is abnormal, it must be something wrong.

This excessive calm is neither like submission nor negligence; it is more like a fully drawn bow, the string taut, the arrow nocked, yet waiting to be released, just in time for the most fatal moment.

Or, it might be a bottomless pit that has been dug, covered with loose soil and fallen leaves, waiting for its prey to step in and think it has found a smooth path.

A chill crept down Zhou Zhengqing's spine. This calm meant either something earth-shattering had happened within the Military Intelligence Bureau, leaving them preoccupied with their own problems, or the possibility of that was extremely slim.

Or, it means...

. . . . . . . . . .

Zhou Zhengqing was right; let's rewind to a few days ago.

Wuhan, headquarters of the Military Intelligence Bureau.

Dai Li's office was on the third floor, with windows facing the Yangtze River.

On the river, boats carrying refugees were packed tightly together, like a school of trapped fish.

Chen Gongshu stood outside the door for half an hour before his secretary, Qi Wu, came out and nodded to him expressionlessly.

"The comrade-in-chief invites you in."

The office was filled with smoke. Dai Li stood by the window with his back to the door, a Camel cigarette between his fingers.

He was not tall, wore a well-fitting dark blue Zhongshan suit, and his hair was neatly combed.

Hearing footsteps, he didn't turn around, but simply raised his hand towards a folder on the table.

"See for yourself."

Chen Gongshu picked up the folder.

Inside was a report from Tianjin Station, with photos of the street fighting scene. Three corpses were lined up, their faces covered with tattered straw mats.

“The Japanese consulate’s undercover agent was exposed, pulling out the whole line. Seven people died, four were injured, and two were arrested.” Dai Li’s voice was as calm as if he were reading a newspaper: “The two arrested also spoke up at the Maochuan Mansion.”

"Now, if it weren't for Chen Ming and Yu Xiuning's quick thinking, all the remaining contact points you've left at Tianjin Station would be finished!"

Chen Gongshu's Adam's apple bobbed: "Director, I..."

“You don’t need to say anything!” Dai Li finally turned around.

His face was very pale, the kind of pale that never sees the sun. His eyes weren't big, but when he looked at you, it was as if he could dissect you from the inside out: "I'm asking you, where is Wang Kemin now?"

"In Beiping, the Japanese are preparing to establish a puppet 'Provisional Government of the Republic of China,' with the inauguration ceremony scheduled for January 15th."

Wang Kemin is the chairman of the Executive Committee; he should be busy meeting with the Japanese these days.

“January 15th,” Dai Li repeated, walking behind his desk and sitting down. “Six days left. Do you know what that means?”

Chen Gongshu remained silent.

He knew, of course, that once the puppet government was formally established, the Japanese would have a "legitimate" puppet regime, and those who were still observing would all turn against it.

North China would truly be legally ceded out.

“The higher-ups lost their temper yesterday.” Dai Li picked up a red and blue pencil from the table and tapped it lightly. “They said that our Military Intelligence Bureau has tens of thousands of people, spending the government’s money and using the best equipment, yet we can’t even eliminate a single traitor.”

I stood there, unable to utter a single word.

Chen Gongshu stood ramrod straight, with fine beads of sweat on his forehead.

“Regarding the Tianjin matter, you should have been handed over to the military court.” Dai Li paused, looking at him, “But you’re an old man, you’ve been with me since the Lixingshe era.”

I'm giving you one last chance.

"Thank you, Director Xie." Chen Gongshu's voice was dry.

"Don't thank me yet." Dai Li opened a drawer, took out a document, and pushed it over: "Wang Kemin must die. Find an opportunity to get rid of him."

I will give you my full support for this operation; I will provide you with manpower and weapons as needed.

But remember, this is your last chance.

Chen Gongshu picked up the document.

This is a special operation authorization document, with the joint seal of Dai Li and the General Staff below.

The appendix lists available resources: the remaining forces at Beiping Station, a special operations team withdrawn from Nanjing, newly arrived American-made Thompson submachine guns, specially made grenades, and even the option to call in an aircraft to evacuate personnel if necessary.

"Isn't the firepower... a bit too much?" Chen Gongshu hesitated.

He was afraid. Dai Li looked calm now, and his tone was also indifferent.

But Chen Gongshu knew that this was the worst possible sign.

Assassinations behind enemy lines usually require secrecy and surprise. Using this level of firepower is equivalent to waging a small battle in Beijing.

This is a do-or-die situation; it seems I've truly disappointed the director lately.

I never imagined that what I did back then—just a little unwilling to easily hand over Tianjin Station to Chen Ming and making some minor moves—would now bring me such a bitter pill to swallow.