newbobooks Chapter 64 The Old Tradition of the Republic of China—Assassination
Chapter 64 The Old Tradition of the Republic of China—Assassination
boom!
Gunshots rang out over Longhua Road.
The man in the gray suit saw clearly through the scope that the bullet had hit the car window.
The glass is broken.
But the car didn't stop.
One second, two seconds, three seconds.
There was no reaction inside the car, no screams, no blood, no panic.
The car continued to drive forward at a steady speed.
wrong!
The man in the gray suit's pupils contracted sharply. He quickly pulled back the bolt, chambered the second bullet, and aimed again.
This time he saw it clearly.
A bullet ripped open the car window, revealing not a person, but a thick steel plate. A military jacket was strapped to the front of the plate, with an inflatable rubber head stuffed into the collar.
substitute!
There's no one in this car!
His back was instantly soaked with cold sweat.
withdraw!
The man in the gray suit almost instinctively rolled over and lunged toward the iron ladder inside the water tower.
But as soon as he climbed over the edge of the platform, he saw a scene he would never forget.
All three escape routes beneath the water tower were blocked.
At the east alley entrance, four men in short jackets were holding MP18 submachine guns, muzzles pointing upwards.
In the alley to the west, three rickshaw drivers had somehow lifted the camouflage cloth from the back of their tricycles, revealing dark gun barrels.
Through the gap in the southern wall, two women squatted behind a peanut stall, each with a Mauser pistol, the safety off.
The woman selling peanuts! The one across from the hostel!
The man in the gray suit felt a buzzing in his head.
Has everything he's done since last night been exposed?
Impossible! He underwent three years of counter-surveillance training! He's never failed in Guangzhou!
But facts are facts.
He was made into dumplings.
"Don't move."
A cold female voice came from the shadows at the entrance to the water tower.
Moran stood at the corner of the iron ladder, dressed in a black military uniform and black gloves, holding a Walther PP pistol with the muzzle pointed directly at his forehead.
The distance was less than three meters.
"Put the gun down, take your finger off the trigger, and slowly crouch down."
The man in the gray suit's Adam's apple bobbed.
He was a ruthless man who had killed many people in Guangzhou, from the late Qing Dynasty to the Republic of China, and later the National Revolutionary Government. He always killed them with a single shot, cleanly and efficiently.
But he's not stupid either.
At a distance of three meters, the opponent's marksmanship was clearly excellent. There were at least ten guns aimed at him; charging out would be tantamount to suicide.
He first threw the rifle aside, then took out his Browning pistol from his pocket and placed it on the ground.
Slowly raise both hands above your head.
"Lie down and put your hands behind your head."
He did as instructed.
The cold iron handcuffs were fastened to my wrists.
Someone searched his waist and found a dagger and a vial of poison in his boot.
"Wow, they even prepared poison."
Moranzhi sneered. "Afraid of being captured alive?"
The man in the gray suit gritted his teeth and remained silent.
He was dragged down from the water tower by two strong men.
……
The bottom of the water tower.
A black sedan was parked there.
The car door opened.
Chen Zijun got out of the back seat.
He was dressed in a black military uniform, with the collar buttoned up neatly, and a half-smoked cigar between his fingers.
They were taking their time, as if they were out for a stroll.
The man in the gray suit was forced to kneel on the ground, and when he looked up, he saw this face.
it's him.
The cold, stern face in the car window.
No, it wasn't. It was just a rubber mannequin.
The real Chen Zijun was standing right in front of him, alive and well, with a slight smile on his lips.
"Not bad marksmanship." Chen Zijun crouched down to meet his gaze. "Accuracy at 280 meters, judging wind speed and lead time within two seconds. From Guangzhou?"
The man in the gray suit's pupils contracted sharply.
He didn't speak.
"It's okay if you don't want to tell me."
Chen Zijun exhaled a puff of smoke. "You're most likely from Guangzhou. I should be able to find the information you deliberately left behind. Was this specifically for us to see?"
"But you shouldn't be a member of the Guangdong National Revolutionary Government. Putting aside the fact that they have no reason to assassinate me now, Mr. Sun, who is currently in power, is not that kind of person. Others may have the intention, but they may not have the guts to bypass Mr. Sun and directly attack me!"
"After all, I don't have many conflicts of interest with them, so there's no need to take such a risk."
The man in the gray suit's lips finally trembled slightly.
How did he know?
"Who are you?" he finally asked. His voice was hoarse.
Chen Zijun stood up.
He crushed the cigar under his shoe.
"You came to kill me, but you don't even know who I am?"
He leaned down slightly.
"I am the one person you should never have touched in your life."
The man in the gray suit trembled uncontrollably.
It wasn't because of the pain. It was because of the look in the person's eyes.
There was no anger, no murderous intent, not even contempt in those eyes. Only an extremely cold, predatory calm.
It's like watching a mouse that has already fallen into a trap.
"Who sent you?"
The man in the gray suit lowered his head and remained silent.
Chen Zijun wasn't in a hurry.
He reached out and pulled a thin piece of paper from the gray-suited man's inner pocket.
Several coded messages were written on the piece of paper.
Chen Zijun glanced at it, then tossed it to Mo Lanzhi.
"The contact code for the 12th Special Operations Station of the Guangdong Clique. Right?"
The man in the gray suit turned completely pale.
Moranzhi took the piece of paper, glanced at it, and nodded. "It's exactly the same as the sample we intercepted."
"but……"
Chen Zijun squatted down again. "You're actually not from the Guangzhou Grand Marshal's Mansion, and you're probably not from the Cantonese faction either."
"In that case, it seems that Sun Yuanfeng, the smiling tiger who inherited the old Beiyang tradition, must be the mastermind behind it all."
The man in the gray suit closed his eyes.
It’s over.
He thought he was the hunter. But from the moment he set foot on Shanghai, he became the prey.
"Kill me," he whispered.
"Kill you?" Chen Zijun shook his head. "You're not worthy of my killing. I already said, I want you alive."
He stood up and dusted off his hands.
"Lanzhi, take her back for questioning. I'll give you one night."
Mo Lanzhi nodded. "Don't worry, young master."
The man in the gray suit was dragged toward the black sedan.
But just as he was being shoved into the car, he suddenly turned around and glanced at Chen Zijun.
"You think killing me will make things alright?"
His voice suddenly changed, carrying a kind of resolute madness.
"Killing you is just the first step! The real target isn't you at all!"
Chen Zijun stopped in his tracks.
"Who is it?"
The man in the gray suit grinned, revealing a row of bloody teeth.
"Mr. Sun... Mr. Sun Yun! He's heading north to assume the presidency, passing through Shanghai. Did you think he only sent me?"
He laughed. He laughed like a madman.
"There's a second knife in Shanghai. That knife isn't aimed at you. It's aimed at Mr. Sun!"
The car door slammed shut.
Longhua Road has returned to quiet.
Chen Zijun stood still, his gaze darkening.
Sun Yun traveled north, passing through Shanghai. Assassination...
Mr. Song was also assassinated in Shanghai when he went north...
He turned to look at Moranzhi.
"The second knife... check."
Mo Lanzhi's expression suddenly turned serious. "Lanzhi will take care of it right away!"
She turned and quickly walked towards another car.
Chen Zijun raised his head.
The sky above Longhua Road was very blue, and the sunlight was very bright.
But he knew that beneath this sunshine, an even bigger storm was brewing.
Mr. Sun's life could end in battle in Guangdong, or in illness in Beijing, but it could not end in Shanghai.
It wasn't because of friendship, but because if Sun Yun died in Shanghai, the banner of anti-imperialism and anti-feudalism, the establishment of the Republic of China, and the unification of civil rights would fall.
Without Sun Yun's banner, China can only be a disorganized mess for the time being.
Loose sand.
This makes it convenient for the Japanese to eat bite by bite.
Chen Zijun slowly clenched his fist.
This time, he wasn't doing it for himself.