Chapter 18: A New Mission

"Boss, a worker from Boss Qin just came to the bookstore, saying Boss Qin wants to buy some books. There are quite a lot, he couldn't remember them all, so Boss Qin wrote them down and wants to ask if you have these titles."

Barely two days after settling in, at three in the afternoon, an employee assigned by the Nanjing Station stepped into the inner hall and handed a note to Li Wensheng.

Li Wensheng unfolded it: "Target confirmed staying at the East Asia Hotel."

He smiled, then burned the note. He hadn't even instructed them to investigate Meng Xinqi, yet they had already taken initiative.

"What a squad leader," he muttered inwardly, but thought nothing more of it.

If they were so eager to be vice-captain, then let them have their way. At worst, if things went disastrously, he'd just be called back to Chongqing—he had no desire to lead the Nanjing Station's operations squad anyway.

After burning the note, Li Wensheng reclined again in his rocking chair and picked up the book on the side table.

"Boss, Boss Qin wants some books. Shall I send him a reply?" the worker asked quietly.

Li Wensheng gazed at the worker and smiled. "I'm not replying. You can go to Boss Guo and let him answer."

The worker's expression grew flustered, and as he tried to explain, Li Wensheng returned his attention to the newspaper and said offhandedly,

"Reply to Boss Qin for me: I have the books he wants. If he wants them, he can come get them himself. I don't do home delivery.

Also, pass along to Boss Ning, Boss Yu, and Boss Li: I have all the books they want as well, but I don't do deliveries. If they want them, they have to come themselves."

The worker paused, then answered, "Yes, boss."

"Mm, you may go."

Once the worker left, Li Wensheng continued reading his newspaper.

He'd barely read for a moment when a chime sounded in his mind.

Li Wensheng immediately focused his attention and opened the system.

Host: Li Wensheng
Age: 21
Skills: Sharpshooter mastery, demolitions mastery, Japanese fluency, ...
Inventory: AWM sniper rifle, 80mm mortar, ...
New mission: Easy, Normal, Difficult, Hell. Please choose.

Gazing at the four options, Li Wensheng hesitated, then selected Normal.

He'd been reckless and picked a Hell-level mission before; this time, he wouldn't be so rash.

He expected a normal mission would be the same as always—assassinate a low-ranking enemy NCO. But when the mission appeared, Li Wensheng nearly cursed aloud.

The new mission: Assassinate Lieutenant General Yoshizumi Ryosuke, commander of the 9th Division stationed in Nanjing.

Previously, assassinating a lieutenant or captain counted as a normal mission. Now it was a whole army lieutenant general? Absurd.

"Could it be that after the previous reward for trying to assassinate Hirohito, my physical enhancements have changed the mission difficulty?" Li Wensheng mused, but didn't dwell on it.

There was no time limit on the mission. If an opportunity arose, he'd act; if not, he'd wait.

A little after seven that night, the bookstore closed. The worker slept in the back hall, while Li Wensheng went to his place a block away.

The Nanjing Station had arranged his accommodation—a small house with a courtyard in a narrow alley.

After returning and finishing dinner, he took a mirror and makeup kit from his system inventory.

Ten minutes later, Li Wensheng had transformed into a rough, unkempt man: stubbled face, sallow complexion.

Next, he took out a military uniform he'd stripped from an enemy during a past mission.

Changing into the uniform, he peeked outside. Seeing no one in the street and the house opposite with its gate closed, he slipped out swiftly.

The first thing he'd done after moving in was gather information about the alley's residents.

Yu Jiarong had said every Nanjing Station member was being secretly watched, so surely someone was tailing him nearby.

If he was to carry out missions for the system, he needed to avoid his watchers.

After covertly investigating, he identified several suspicious households. The previous night, he had scaled the walls into their courtyards—never entering the actual houses to avoid detection.

It was enough to confirm the house opposite, inhabited by a middle-aged man, was the one watching him.

A middle-aged man living alone, or a childless couple without elders, was the most common cover for an undercover agent.

That man’s identity already aroused suspicion, but what convinced Li Wensheng was the small jar of incense ash behind the main gate.

Though it could be local custom to burn incense at the door, Li Wensheng believed the ash was for counter-surveillance.

Sprinkling a thin layer of ash behind the door would reveal if anyone entered while he was out.

The man’s background and the incense ash—double proof—convinced Li Wensheng he was being monitored from that house.

Moving quickly through the alley and turning into two deserted streets, Li Wensheng encountered a patrol of military police.

Alone in uniform, he stood out. Even though he wore a second lieutenant's uniform and the highest rank among the patrol was a sergeant—hardly an officer—Nanjing’s strict inspections meant they stopped him.

"Lieutenant, sir. May I ask which unit you belong to?" The sergeant saluted and inquired.

"I'm with the 5th Brigade of the 9th Division. And you?" Li Wensheng nodded slightly.

The sergeant looked surprised. "I'm also with the 5th Brigade of the 9th Division, sir—Third Regiment, Second Company."

"Good, thank you for your service. Carry on with your patrol," Li Wensheng said, preparing to walk away.

But before he could move, the sergeant said, "Lieutenant, sir. Our commander has ordered that everyone encountered at night must present identification. May I see your officer’s card?"

Li Wensheng lowered his gaze, sighing inwardly.

He’d known the checks were strict, but hadn’t expected to be found out by the very first patrol.

"Very well, it’s only right to check," he said, reaching for his breast pocket.

Seeing Li Wensheng reach for his ID, the sergeant relaxed—but in the next instant, his face twisted in horror.

Just as the sergeant was about to shout, the distinctive chatter of a Chicago typewriter echoed in the night.

Seconds later, the gunfire ceased. The sergeant and the eight soldiers behind him lay dead in pools of blood.

Li Wensheng holstered his weapon and sprinted into a nearby alley.

After running a dozen meters, he suddenly stopped.

He glanced back, mind racing, and decided the thought that had just flashed was feasible.

Drawing a bottle of sake from his system inventory, he gulped down a good half.

He poured the rest over his uniform, then pulled out his Mauser from its holster and strode back toward the scene of the shooting.

When he arrived, no other patrols had yet appeared.

Li Wensheng glanced around in fury, then began shouting drunkenly, "Baka! How dare you kill soldiers of the Great Japanese Empire! Baka!"

He’d barely shouted twice when another patrol appeared to the left.

As they ran up, he slapped the leading sergeant across the face.

"Baka! Imperial soldiers have been killed and you’re this slow to respond?"

The sergeant looked aggrieved. He’d rushed over as soon as he heard the shots, not wasting a second.

He didn’t dare protest, only lowered his head and replied, "Yes, sir, it was my slow reaction."

Officially, the military police had authority over officers three ranks above them, but that was only on paper. If they actually tried to manage things by the book, a captain would be ordering around generals, and chaos would ensue.

Li Wensheng gave the sergeant a harder slap, nearly knocking him over.

"You know you’re slow! What are you waiting for? Go after them!"

He pointed, staggering, to the right. "The killers ran that way—three men and two women!"

"Yes, sir!"

The sergeant nodded vigorously, then hurried off with his men in pursuit.