Matthew Brooks felt that the more details he knew, the more confident he would be in facing any situation. This was not only his duty, but had gradually become his habit. If there was any household in his jurisdiction whose situation he didn’t have a grasp on, he would feel uneasy all over. But this also made him spend a huge amount of energy and time; almost all of Matthew Brooks’s efforts were devoted to gathering information. If it weren’t for people like Third Young Master helping him, he probably wouldn’t even have figured out twenty percent of the situation by now.

“You can rest assured, I’m keeping an eye on everything,” Third Young Master said hurriedly. Although talking to Matthew Brooks like this felt awkward, it was what Matthew Brooks required. Even though they were friends and neighbors, they always had to maintain a certain distance in public. He found it hard to understand, but he had always obeyed Matthew Brooks without question.

“What about Watson Harris?” Matthew Brooks asked casually.

“He went out before dawn,” said Third Young Master. Watson Harris was also a little beggar taken in by Matthew Brooks; when he came back at night, he would sleep at his doorstep. Like Third Young Master, Watson Harris was also one of his informants.

“If you get too busy, have Watson Harris go over too,” Matthew Brooks instructed. Third Young Master and Watson Harris struggled to get enough to eat every day, and half of his salary was used to help support them.

“No need. Don’t worry about a thing, whenever I’m free I just park my rickshaw right across from the Huichun Pharmacy,” Third Young Master whispered. He was a bona fide rickshaw puller; no matter where he parked his rickshaw, no one would suspect a thing.

After Matthew Brooks finished eating, he waited for Third Young Master, watching him drink up every last drop of soup. When he put the bowl down, Third Young Master showed a look of complete satisfaction. Not going hungry was his life’s goal now.

Seeing that the rain had let up a bit, Matthew Brooks jogged off to the police station in the west of the city. Third Young Master wanted to catch up, but Matthew Brooks kicked him back: “Do your job properly, that’s what matters. Don’t waste time on useless things.”

Watching Matthew Brooks running in the rain, Third Young Master’s eyes welled up with tears. He turned and pulled his rickshaw toward Changtang Street. In the eyes of the neighbors, Matthew Brooks might not have the best reputation. But Third Young Master knew very well that Matthew Brooks was truly good to him. Without Matthew Brooks, he wouldn’t have survived to this day.

“Third Young Master, why do you butter him up every day? He won’t even give us a proper look,” said another rickshaw puller who happened to witness the scene, thinking Third Young Master was being bullied and speaking up for him.

“I just like it,” Third Young Master muttered, pulling his rickshaw into the rain.

By the time Matthew Brooks reached the police station, his clothes were nearly soaked through. Just as he was about to get a raincoat, he ran into his partner Caleb Bennett. Caleb Bennett was in his thirties, not very tall, and slightly chubby. He was a patrolman who had stayed on from the old police force. After partnering with Matthew Brooks for over half a year, he had taught him a lot.

“Is there a fire?” Caleb Bennett said with a half-smile, seeing Matthew Brooks rushing in.

His principle was to do just enough to get by each day; now that he was working for the Japanese, there was no need to take things so seriously. Matthew Brooks was very perceptive, a high school graduate, quick-witted, and a fast learner. Especially in logical reasoning, under his guidance, Matthew Brooks was showing signs of surpassing the master.

“My clothes are almost soaked through. If I catch a cold, will you treat me? Old Bennett, are we getting any benefits today?” When Matthew Brooks came in just now, he noticed that all the patrolmen who should have gone out were gathered in the hall. Thinking that today was the Dragon Boat Festival, maybe they’d get some meat or eggs. Tonight, he definitely wanted to have a good meal with Third Young Master and Watson Harris; if the station handed out benefits, he could save quite a bit.

“Bullshit! We have a mission—helping the Special Services Division catch people again,” Caleb Bennett said irritably. This month, he and Matthew Brooks had already assisted the Special Services Division several times, each time arresting underground Communists.

On a festival like the Dragon Boat Festival, not only were there no benefits, but they even had to go on a mission. Their so-called missions weren’t normal patrols, but arrests of anti-Japanese activists, so of course they were full of complaints. Most importantly, such tasks weren’t even supposed to be the Security Division’s responsibility.

After the Japanese occupied Guxing City in the second half of last year, most of the original police force scattered and the organization fell apart. At the beginning of the year, the new police station was officially established. Aside from a few who stayed on, most were newly recruited. The police station had departments for police affairs, judiciary, security, and special services, and set up nine district offices such as Chengguan and Xinxing, as well as twenty-two substations and police posts. The Security Division had the most people and was often drafted by the Special Services Division.

The Police Affairs Division managed firearms, ammunition, and personnel transfers and promotions; the Security Division managed household registration, issued “residence permits,” and handled shop inspections and patrols; the Judiciary Division managed files, collected evidence, and handled detainees; the Special Services Division was responsible for intelligence and arrests.

Matthew Brooks and Caleb Bennett were both from the Security Division and had previously participated in Special Services Division operations. The head of the Special Services Division, Shawn Benson, was sinister and ruthless, and had the backing of the Japanese. The head of the Security Division, Charles Thompson, always complied with Shawn Benson’s requests. When they took part in Special Services Division operations, there were no rewards for merit, but they would be punished for any mistakes. So when Caleb Bennett heard they had to assist the Special Services Division again, he was naturally very unhappy.