In the middle section of the dining car, a middle-aged Russian couple sat facing each other. The man was tall, and the woman had the plump figure most common among Russian women. Both were dressed in luxurious clothes, their manners carrying the unique arrogance of Russian aristocrats. In fact, most people who could enter this dining car were not ordinary folks, and most of them were foreigners; Chinese faces were actually quite rare. Logan Reed glanced through the menu—it was mostly Western food. He ordered pan-seared salmon, a serving of curry chicken rice, and a glass of whiskey. While flipping through the latest newspaper, he waited for his lunch.

A young officer approached from the opposite side. Logan Reed’s eyes swept cautiously over the top edge of the newspaper, only to be surprised to discover that the officer was none other than William Clark, who had attempted to assassinate the Jiangbei military governor Ren Zhongchang at the Huangpu Blue Mill. Logan Reed quickly lowered his gaze and raised the newspaper a bit higher to cover his face, feeling a surge of nervousness. He had once intervened at the Blue Mill to stop William Clark, even injuring him twice. Now, running into him face-to-face, wouldn’t it be a case of enemies meeting with heightened animosity? At this moment, Logan Reed still couldn’t be sure whether William Clark had seen him.

Fortunately, as soon as William Clark entered the dining car, he walked over to a group of Japanese, greeted them with a smile, and was welcomed over by a Japanese officer. They shook hands warmly and exchanged pleasantries, never once glancing toward Logan Reed at the other end of the car.

Just then, the waiter brought Logan Reed’s lunch. As Logan Reed ate, he tried hard to listen in on the conversation between William Clark and the Japanese men. Unfortunately, the distance was too great, and the dining car was somewhat noisy, so he couldn’t make out what they were saying. However, William Clark’s Japanese seemed quite good, and he was chatting happily with the Japanese. Before long, Logan Reed saw William Clark stand up, bid farewell to the Japanese, and leave the dining car.

Seeing that William Clark didn’t pass by his seat on the way out, Logan Reed let out a sigh of relief from the bottom of his heart. Maybe he really hadn’t been noticed.

After William Clark left, Logan Reed immediately prepared to leave as well. The train would arrive in Fengtian tonight, and he didn’t want to get into unnecessary trouble. But before he could stand up, those Japanese men had already gotten up first. Two of them were clearly drunk, staggering as they walked over. As they passed by Logan Reed, one Japanese officer with a toothbrush mustache suddenly took notice of him for some reason, pointed at Logan Reed, and said in awkward Chinese, “You, what are you doing?”

Logan Reed didn’t understand why these Japanese officers were picking a fight with him, but he vaguely felt it had something to do with William Clark. He was filled with disgust for these bandits, but kept his expression calm and composed, replying neither humbly nor arrogantly, “This is Chinese land. What’s wrong with a Chinese person sitting on his own country’s train?”

The Japanese officer’s hand fell to his holster, and the other Japanese all drew their weapons. Five Brownings were aimed at Logan Reed in unison. The officer was the last to draw his gun, and in stiff Chinese barked, “We received a report—you are a Korean exile rebel. Come with us!”

Logan Reed thought to himself that this was bad. Clearly, these Japanese weren’t picking on him by coincidence, but because someone had reported him. Without a doubt, the one who reported him must have been William Clark. Korea was now under Japanese rule, and many Korean resistance groups, under pressure, had to move into China to continue their struggle. The Japanese were cracking down on these groups with extreme force and cruelty. William Clark must have seen him when he entered the dining car—this was a classic case of using others to do one’s dirty work, truly insidious.

Logan Reed laughed and said, “Whoever told you that is lying. I’m Chinese, and I’m a clergyman—a pastor. I can prove my identity to you.” He reached for his pastor’s certificate, but the Japanese officer shouted harshly to stop him. In their eyes, this movement was extremely dangerous.

At this moment, Blind Jack, who had just woken up, also entered the dining car. Seeing the scene before him, he was shocked. His gaze fell on a nearby kettle, and he was already imagining pouring hot water over the Japanese.

The train’s police officer rushed over after hearing the commotion, trying to step forward and ask what was going on, but was rudely shoved aside by a Japanese officer.

Just as the confrontation was about to erupt, a Japanese soldier suddenly ran over in a panic, shouting, “Something’s wrong! General Kawasaki has been knocked out!” He spoke in Japanese, so aside from the Japanese present, few others could understand.

The Japanese were all shocked by the news and immediately forgot about Logan Reed, turning and running toward the scene of the incident.

Blind Jack rushed to Logan Reed’s side, glaring at the backs of the Japanese and shaking his fist fiercely. “Damn it, if you’ve got guts, don’t run! I’ll crush those turtle bastards!”

Logan Reed stood up, patted Blind Jack on the shoulder, and quickly pulled him back into their compartment.

Once the compartment door was closed, Blind Jack couldn’t wait to ask, “What happened? What’s going on?”

Logan Reed briefly explained what had just happened, then said in a low voice, “Those Japanese were probably being used by William Clark. I just heard that General Kawasaki was knocked out. Maybe he used me to distract the Japanese, create chaos, and then took the opportunity to strike at them.”