17. Nighttime at the Dockside District

Outside the ballroom, a black sedan was parked along the curb. Two men stepped out, one on each side of the car. One of them had a thick beard and sharp eyes. Dressed in a black suit and wearing a bowler hat, wasn’t he the very “smokescreen” Zhou Hongyi had released from the dungeon?

Indeed, this was the “Special Action Group Leader” of the Military Intelligence Bureau. Somehow, he had slipped past Director Feng’s undercover agents and was now strutting openly in entertainment venues. It seemed he had no respect whatsoever for the police.

“What is this bearded man up to? Too bad my Insight Eye can’t be used today, or I’d be really curious about what he’s doing...” Zhou Hongyi pondered silently. He knew that within both the Military Intelligence and the Central Intelligence agencies, some were wholeheartedly devoted to resisting the Japanese invaders, adhering firmly to the principle that “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” They tried to win over as many as possible to their side. Moreover, Zhou owed this bearded man a life debt, which would make communication easier.

Just as Zhou Hongyi was thinking this, he suddenly noticed another familiar figure.

The man wore a blue changshan, a bowler hat, and gold-rimmed glasses, exuding a scholarly air, looking every bit an intellectual. Although his face was disguised, Zhou recognized him instantly and remembered the impression clearly. Wasn’t he the manager of the Florence Café, the comrade codenamed “Bodhi”?

He was back too? These mysterious figures appeared and vanished like dragons, yet their intelligence transmission was remarkably swift. Regardless, as long as the time and place for sweeping the enemy were accurately communicated to the guerrillas, Zhou’s mission would be accomplished.

Like an onlooker enjoying a spectacle, Zhou Hongyi stirred his wonton soup while watching the comings and goings at the ballroom entrance. One familiar face after another appeared, making the scene increasingly interesting.

Just as he wondered if a third acquaintance would show up, his guess proved correct.

This time, although in plain clothes, the man’s vulture-like features and distinctive small mustache made him unmistakable even from afar—it was none other than Colonel Shimazu, the current supreme commander of the Tokkō police.

“Military Intelligence, the Communist faction, Tokkō police... If a Central Intelligence agent joins, it would be a full mahjong table. Why are they all flocking to the Paramount? Is there some major event tonight?”

Yet the evening’s excitement did not end there. A voice suddenly echoed in Zhou Hongyi’s mind.

[Beep~ Latest checkpoint activated: the private dressing room of the Paramount Ballroom’s star dancer, Man Yu.]

“What? The dancer’s dressing room? Damn... Are they asking me to be a peeping pervert? Why place the checkpoint there?” Zhou Hongyi shuddered inwardly and muttered a few complaints.

“Hey bro, what’s up? Can’t finish your wontons?” Fu Sheng, noticing Zhou’s attention fixed on the ballroom and his habit of picking up wontons only to put them down again, grew worried.

“Oh, I’m full. Aren’t you hungry? Here, take the rest.” Zhou Hongyi lifted his bowl and placed it before Fu Sheng. The latter smiled happily as he ate, sincerely grateful to his newfound big brother. He felt as if his parents in heaven had sent him a benefactor, and he was determined to hold on tight.

The three had entered the famed Paramount together.

Paramount was renowned throughout the ten-mile foreign concession. It was a hotspot for officials, nobles, and wealthy merchants seeking pleasure. The décor was lavish beyond compare—crystal chandeliers sparkled like stars, priceless oil paintings adorned the walls, and the dance floor gleamed like a mirror.

The orchestra, hired at great expense from abroad, played the latest fashionable music. The dancers were graceful and beautiful, each exuding irresistible charm. Paramount’s most celebrated dancer was none other than Man Yu, whose every glance and smile captivated countless men’s hearts.

However, Zhou Hongyi didn’t even know her. To barge into someone’s private dressing room would surely invite trouble; it would be no surprise if he were beaten to death as a rogue. This matter required careful consideration.

After some thought, Zhou tossed a few bills onto the wonton stall, patted Fu Sheng on the shoulder, and prepared to head home.

He decided safety must come first—this situation was too complex, and one wrong step could plunge him into danger. Once his Insight Eye had cooled down by tomorrow, he would return to investigate the ballroom. But before that, he needed to replenish his ammunition; having ample ammo would bolster his confidence.

Zhou recalled the bespectacled blind man he met when buying guns on the black market. The mysterious man had told him he was at Pier Seven at the wharf and to seek him out if needed.

Checking the time, Zhou felt only a fully loaded magazine would bring him a sense of security. He sent Fu Sheng home to rest, then hailed a rickshaw to the vicinity of the South Shanghai Wharf.

Night had fallen. Apart from a few ships still loading cargo under the cover of darkness, most of the docks were shrouded in inky blackness, eerily silent.

After some searching, Zhou found Pier Seven. He looked around; it was piled high with cargo, but strangely, there was no guard in sight. Didn’t they fear theft?

Curious, Zhou ventured further, arriving at a warehouse still illuminated by a light.

Oddly, he hadn’t encountered anyone to ask for directions. The silence was unsettling, broken only by the echo of his footsteps.

Just as Zhou felt the atmosphere grow strange, a scream pierced the night from inside the warehouse.

“Ah! Brother Dao... Brother Dao, please spare me! I won’t dare again! I swear, it’s all for my mother’s sake—I had no choice!”

“You scoundrel! You were supposed to guard the warehouse, yet you betrayed us! If it weren’t for the impending gang war with the Green Gang, we wouldn’t have found out you’ve been secretly selling so many guns and bullets. If we don’t enforce the code today, anyone needing money will just take weapons from the gang and sell them!”

“Brother Dao... Brother Dao! For the sake of our childhood friendship, please spare me! I know I was wrong! My mother... she’s gravely ill. The doctor said only surgery at the Western hospital can save her, but the surgery costs a fortune. I had no choice! Brother Dao, I beg you, spare my life! I’ll be your loyal servant in my next life—my life belongs to you!”

“Do you think your life is still your own? From the moment you first sold the gang’s weapons and ammo, your life ceased to belong to you. Bring him here! Break his limbs, stuff him in a sack, and throw him into the Huangpu River!”

“No... no, Brother Dao! Spare me! If I die, who will care for my mother?”