Chapter 0001: The Cautious Man with the Mustache

August 13, 1939—a very special day. Shanghai had been occupied by the Japanese invaders two years prior, and the foreign concessions had become an isolated island.

To ensure their safety, hundreds of thousands of people crowded into the concessions, creating a kind of distorted prosperity.

Everywhere in the concessions, the streets were bustling with traffic. Rickshaws, tricycles, and cars could be seen everywhere, and in the busiest areas, there were even traffic jams.

The streets were packed with pedestrians, shops were filled with dazzling goods, and at night, the city was ablaze with lights and revelry. Whether it was the bars and dance halls on the main roads or the longtang houses on Fourth Avenue, they were all packed with customers. People lived in drunken pleasure, caring only for today and not thinking about tomorrow.

Jin Shenfu Road in the French Concession was built in 1907 by the French Concession’s public works bureau, and incorporated into the French Concession in 1914. Jin Shenfu Road runs north to Xianfei Road and south to Xujiahui Road, stretching three li in total, mainly consisting of newly built lanes and apartments.

Rickshaws could be seen everywhere on the road. According to statistics, there were more than seventy thousand rickshaws and tricycles in the International Settlement alone, and over one hundred thousand in all of Shanghai.

If you wanted to be more dignified, you could hail a taxi. There were more than two thousand taxis in the entire concession, operating day and night, stopping at a wave.

As dusk fell, a tricycle rickshaw turned into an apartment building in Shuanglong Lane on Jin Shenfu Road. A man in a Western-style shirt, of medium height and wearing leather shoes, got off the rickshaw, humming a tune, pulled out his wallet, and casually paid the fare.

His name was Brian Carter, a Chinese deputy detective at the French police station. Today, he had just assisted the Japanese military police in arresting two Chongqing “terrorists.” After handing them over to the Hongkou Japanese military police, he received a “hardship fee” of fifty yuan.

Eating the French police’s meat and taking the Japanese’s money, no matter how things changed in Shanghai, he could always play both sides.

Brian Carter habitually glanced left and right. Seeing nothing unusual, he turned and headed toward his apartment. Tonight, he planned to have a good drink.

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, a look of astonishment in his eyes.

In the dark corner by the door stood a man in black, sporting a small mustache and wearing gold-rimmed glasses, his features indistinct. He raised his arm, and a dark gun barrel was pointed straight at him.

Through his glasses, the man with the mustache shot a cold, piercing gaze at Brian Carter, staring at him as if he were already a corpse.

A chill ran through Brian Carter, as if his whole body was wrapped in an icy grip. His hands and feet went cold, and sweat broke out on his back. He vaguely guessed the man’s identity—he often arrested people from Chongqing, and now someone had come for revenge.

Brian Carter had thought that this day would come eventually, but he hadn’t expected it to come so quickly, so suddenly.

Brian Carter quickly reached for the gun at his waist, but the other man was faster. His gun had already been aimed in the darkness. With a flash from the muzzle, Brian Carter could even see the bullet flying toward him.

“Bang! Bang!”

Two furious bullets struck Brian Carter right in the chest. He fell backward, and the Browning pistol he had just grabbed slipped from his hand to the ground.

Brian Carter’s consciousness quickly faded. In a daze, he saw the man with the mustache calmly walk over, step across his body, bend down to pick up the pistol, and feel around his pockets, taking his wallet as well.

This man was truly bold—not only did he not flee after the killing, he even dared to search the body. There was more than fifty yuan in the wallet. Also, it seemed like he stuffed something into his pocket, then took it out again and tossed it onto his body.

That was Brian Carter’s last thought. He really hoped the nearby patrolmen would come quickly to avenge him.

The man with the mustache felt Brian Carter’s neck. After confirming that Brian Carter was dead, he walked out of the alley and strode north. His steps were long, and his left shoulder drooped a bit, giving him a slight limp.

After leaving Shuanglong Lane, his pace slowed. Seeing a car on the street, he casually hailed a taxi and quickly headed north.

Once in the taxi, the man with the mustache glanced at his pocket watch under the streetlight—the timing was perfect. Brian Carter had returned home on time, he had completed his task on time, and now he was in the taxi on time. The most important part of the assassination mission was done.

After leaving the French Concession, he got out at the intersection of Fuxu Road and Yaoerpei Road. He paid the fare with Brian Carter’s wallet, then walked west along Fuxu Road for a while. Strangely, as he walked, his limp suddenly disappeared.

He quickly crossed the street and took off his glasses. At this moment, he seemed like a completely different person. After walking a bit further, he hailed a rickshaw heading east toward Jing’an Temple Road, finally getting off at the intersection with Gordon Road.

He observed from across the intersection for a while before entering Gordon Road. After walking about fifty meters, he saw a lane on the left. He glanced behind him and quickly turned in.

It was very dark inside, but the man with the mustache was extremely familiar with the place. As he walked, he removed the fake mustache and eyebrows from his face.