thefictionvixens Chapter 71 Inspecting the Record and Film Company
Chapter 71 Inspecting the Record and Film Company
Watanabe Takuma was wearing a white kimono with purple stripes, and wooden clogs on his feet, making a "clattering" sound as he walked. He had obviously drunk quite a bit, and his steps were unsteady. He was humming an off-key Japanese song, and his face was flushed, looking slightly tipsy.
He had just stepped out of the military police headquarters when he stood by the roadside and looked around for a moment.
"When luck comes, you can't stop it." Yan Shuo secretly rejoiced. "I was originally planning to sneak into the headquarters, but this has saved me a lot of trouble."
He quickly paid the bill, and as he stood up, he casually grabbed his coat from the back of the chair, pretending to be full and satisfied, and slowly walked out of the restaurant, following Watanabe Takuma at a distance.
Yan Shuo rubbed his nose and glanced around. There were many pedestrians on the street, as well as several patrolling Japanese soldiers. It would be too conspicuous to take action directly.
He looked in the direction Watanabe Takuma was looking and his gaze fell on a two-story building next to him. A wooden sign that read "Chanba House" hung above the door, and two alluring geishas stood at the door, winking at Watanabe Takuma.
"So it's a brothel hotel." Yan Shuo's eyes darted around, and he instantly understood Watanabe Takuma's intentions.
This is the only decent Japanese-style hotel in the area, and it's right next to the military police headquarters, making it the top choice for Japanese military officers seeking pleasure.
He quickened his pace, circled around to the side alley of the hotel, and darted up to the second floor in a few strides. He had been here once before and was very familiar with the layout.
Hiding in the shadows at the end of the second-floor corridor, he pondered: "The Chanyu family's place is right under the nose of the military police headquarters, less than 300 meters from the gate, and the vertical distance from the wall to the gate is only 60 meters. There's no way a Chinese person could open a shop here. The owner must be Japanese or a traitor who has collaborated with the Japanese army, so that the Japanese army can feel at ease. Moreover, the hotel was only built on two floors, precisely to prevent it from being spied on or becoming a target of attack if it were too high. Those little devils are cunning."
Sure enough, less than ten minutes later, the giggles of geishas could be heard from downstairs.
Yan Shuo peeked out and saw Watanabe Takuma embracing a geisha with a thickly powdered face. He had one hand on the geisha's waist and was waving the other while telling dirty jokes. The two of them walked and swayed into the hotel.
"Boss, a superior room, please!" Watanabe Takuma hiccuped and shouted at the boss behind the counter.
"Alright, Mr. Watanabe, this way please!" The boss smiled obsequiously and handed over a set of keys.
Yan Shuo held his breath, listening to the sound of wooden clogs tapping on the stairs getting closer and closer.
"This is it, Mr. Watanabe." The geisha's voice rang out, followed by the click of a key opening the door.
As Watanabe Takuma, with his arm around a geisha, pushed open the door, before he could even step inside, Yan Shuo darted out from the shadows like a black shadow and pounced on them from behind!
He grabbed Watanabe Takuma by the back of the neck with his left hand and the geisha's head with his right, and slammed them together. A crisp "thud!" sounded, like two watermelons hitting each other.
The two men groaned and, without even a chance to struggle, fell straight to the ground, unconscious.
Without the slightest hesitation, Yan Shuo squatted down, pressed Watanabe Takuma's shoulder with his left hand, grabbed the back of his neck with his right hand, and twisted it sharply to the side and back. A crisp "crack" sounded, and the sound of the cervical spine breaking was particularly jarring in the quiet room.
Watanabe Takuma's body twitched once, and then he stopped breathing completely.
Yan Shuo raised his hand to wipe the fine sweat from his forehead, and swiftly put Watanabe Takuma's body into his spatial ring.
Then, he grabbed the unconscious geisha, dragged her a few steps into the room, made sure the door was closed, and then turned around and gently closed the door behind him.
He quickly walked down the stairs, deliberately avoiding the counter when he left, and hurried away along the alley.
After walking to the alley where I had parked earlier and making sure no one was following me, I opened the car door, got in, started the car, and disappeared into the traffic on the street.
As the car drove away from Chanyu's house, Yan Shuo glanced at the rearview mirror; the lanterns swayed gently in the wind.
No one knew that the culprit who was about to build a secret laboratory in Nanjing had been forever frozen in that very hotel room.
He loosened his grip on the steering wheel, the tension in his body gradually dissipating, and a faint smile appeared on his lips.
Back downstairs at the West American Trading Company office, Yan Shuo parked the car and went into the office to find the stand-in doll sitting upright in front of the telegraph machine, meticulously copying down telegrams, the ink marks neatly arranged on the paper.
"Finished copying?" He walked over and casually picked up the copied telegram.
"Reporting to the captain, we've just finished collecting the evidence," the doll replied.
Yan Shuo quickly scanned the telegram, raised an eyebrow, and muttered to himself, "Another order to eliminate traitors. So headquarters is treating me like a hurricane squad?"
The paper was densely filled with the names of about thirty people, including traitors who had defected to the Japanese army, defecting party and state comrades, and a wide variety of people, from well-known puppet government officials to grassroots spies and informants.
He slammed the telegram on the table, tapped the names on it, and went over his thought process. Most of these people had families and businesses, so he could conveniently "clean up" their assets to replenish the organization's funds.
"Huang Mo!" Yan Shuo called out towards the door.
"Here!" Huang Mo strode in, stood at attention, and looked sharply at Yan Shuo.
Yan Shuo handed over the telegram, his tone crisp: "Take your men and deal with the people listed here as soon as possible. Remember, be thorough and don't leave any loose ends. Also, search their homes thoroughly and bring back everything of value—property deeds, checks, cash—make sure nothing is missing."
Huang Mo took the telegram, glanced at it quickly, and nodded emphatically: "Don't worry, Captain! I guarantee it will be handled perfectly. We'll get rid of these scoundrels and also add some funds to the organization." He raised his hand in salute, turned around and strode away, his steps light and quick, clearly familiar with this kind of mission.
Watching Huang Mo's figure disappear through the door, Yan Shuo stretched out a big yawn, his joints cracking.
"Phew, now I'm completely done with this." He casually grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, draped it over his shoulder, hooked his fingertips around the collar, whistled a nonsensical tune, and sauntered out of the office.
Thinking that it was still early, he decided to change direction and head towards Fengming Records and Film Company. He figured it was time to pay the company's artists their salaries.
Fengming Records and Film Company was founded by him on a whim last year. One reason was to provide cover for underground work, and the other was because he couldn't stand seeing those lower-level artists being bullied and wanted to find them a backer.
As soon as I arrived at the company entrance, I heard melodious singing and instrument practice coming from inside.
"Hello, boss!" The security guard at the door was the first to react, straightening his back and greeting him respectfully with a bow.
"Hello, boss!" In the corridor, the clerk who was organizing documents and the musician who was carrying musical instruments all stopped when they saw Yan Shuo, and greeted him respectfully with sincere smiles on their faces.
Yan Shuo nodded in response, raising his hand to indicate that everyone should not be reserved: "Go about your own business, don't worry about me."