Chapter 1 Mission

　　June 21, 1939, the fifth day of the fifth lunar month, Dragon Boat Festival. The sky was overcast, a fine drizzle fell from above, and visibility was blurred as far as the eye could see; people on the street could only make out vague shapes. In Guxing City, ravaged by war and frequently bombed, ruins were everywhere. Although it was a traditional festival, the market was depressed, only about half the shops were open, and pedestrians were even scarcer.

　　But those who needed to go out still had to. No matter how cruel the war, people still had to survive. In a residential area in the southeast of Yuping District, Guxing City, a young policeman in a black uniform stepped out. He had a broad forehead, thick eyebrows slightly furrowed, a straight nose, and tightly pressed, well-defined lips. His name was Matthew Brooks, an ordinary patrol officer in the Security Division of the Guxing Police Department.

　　Patrol officers now combined the duties of modern patrolmen, neighborhood police, and city management. They had to manage rickshaws and tricycles, street vendors, patrol the streets, and even oversee weddings and funerals in other people's homes—almost everything on the street fell under their jurisdiction. Traffic control, assisting in investigations, and even arresting anti-Japanese elements—all could be seen in the patrol officer's job.

　　Matthew Brooks lazily looked up at the sky, muttered “lousy, fishy weather” under his breath, and turned back to lock the door. He patted the dust off his clothes, pressed down his police cap, and jogged along the eaves into the alley.

　　“One, two, three... sixty-six.” Matthew Brooks counted silently in his mind. When he reached sixty-six, he knew he was at the mouth of the alley. Since the first day he wore a police uniform, he had developed this habit on his way to work. From the alley entrance, it was thirty-seven steps to the nameless noodle shop ahead, and 4,785 steps to the police station. Matthew Brooks walked at a pace of two steps per second on his way to work, and one step per second while on patrol.

　　“Brother Yun, let me give you a ride today?” Just as he reached the alley entrance, a rickshaw suddenly sped over and stopped beside Matthew Brooks. The rickshaw puller was also young, a smile on his thin face, looking at Matthew Brooks with anticipation. His name was Third Young Master, full name Quentin James, but since he could remember, few people ever called him by his full name.

　　“It’s Dragon Boat Festival, why are you still out with your rickshaw? Go home. Tonight I’ll buy some rice dumplings and get two jin of pig’s head meat to bring back.” Matthew Brooks glanced at Third Young Master, frowned, and said in a low voice.

　　Just by hearing the name, no one would imagine that Third Young Master was a rickshaw puller. Although he wore a bamboo hat and had a plastic sheet draped over him, his lower half was nearly soaked through. When he was a child, Third Young Master’s parents hoped he would live a life of luxury, but who could have guessed that as an adult, Third Young Master would end up as a laborer.

　　“It’s raining, so there are more passengers. If you want pig’s head meat, it has to be from Meiwei Restaurant.” Third Young Master was two years older than Matthew Brooks. Last year, when the Japanese bombed Guxing, his home was destroyed and his family killed. If he hadn’t met Matthew Brooks, Third Young Master would have been long buried in the earth.

　　“Let’s have rice noodles together up ahead.” Matthew Brooks still refused to get in the rickshaw. He had long made an agreement with Third Young Master: in the morning, he would never ride his rickshaw, but in the evening, when going to night school, Third Young Master could give him a lift. He had actually wanted to buy a bicycle for a long time, but with his current salary, even saving for another year might not be enough.

　　“Anything going on today?” Third Young Master didn’t insist, and followed Matthew Brooks to the nameless noodle shop at the street corner. Strangely, after entering, the two sat back-to-back at separate tables. Third Young Master glanced to the side, lowered his voice, and asked.

　　Matthew Brooks was a policeman, and Third Young Master, as a rickshaw puller, naturally became his free informant. Any rumors on the street, or shops and people Matthew Brooks needed to investigate, he could gather information while pulling passengers. As long as it was something Matthew Brooks asked, Third Young Master would rather forgo business than fail to help.

　　“A few new shops have opened on Changtang Street. Keep an eye on them if you have time, especially that Xiaoyang Photo Studio. Don’t let your guard down at Huichun Pharmacy either.” Matthew Brooks thought for a moment. In times like these, it was odd for someone to open a new photo studio in Guxing.

　　Although Matthew Brooks was just a patrol officer, he still needed to be clear about what was happening on the streets, especially in his own jurisdiction. So whenever possible, he would have people gather information for him. He had several people like Third Young Master working for him.