Chapter Seventy-One: The Confession at Last

Ning Zhiheng went straight to the Interrogation Division. Since the chief had ordered Yu Cheng to extract a confession within eight hours, what awaited Xie Zhiming was undoubtedly the harshest and most brutal torture imaginable.

He might break, as Huang Xiansheng had, and choose to surrender and confess. Yet, he could also be as unyielding as Yanagi Tianxing, preferring death to disclosure. Ning Zhiheng had to remain by his side at all times, ready to read his memories at the moment of death.

What followed was as expected: Xie Zhiming, already exhausted to the limit, was strapped once again to the cross, and subjected to repeated tortures. Soon, there was not a single patch of unharmed skin left on his body.

“Xie Zhiming—no, we should call you Mr. Xie, shouldn’t we? Black Sparrow! Am I right? The new leader of the Shadow Group!” Yu Cheng stood before Xie Zhiming, hands behind his back, watching him with great interest.

Barely clinging to life, Xie Zhiming forced his eyes open. The shock and suspicion in his gaze could no longer be concealed. How much did these Chinese know? How could they even know his position and codename?

Could there have been a leak in the Tokko headquarters? Impossible—only a select few within Tokko were aware of the Shadow Group’s existence, and none of them would ever betray the Empire.

That left only one possibility: Kawakami Kenta, his senior, who had entered Nanjing with him for this mission.

He must have already fallen into Chinese hands. In Nanjing, only he knew Xie Zhiming's identity.

Yes, only him!

As for the possibility of betraying himself, Xie Zhiming never considered it. He hadn’t made any moves—how could he have exposed a flaw?

“You refuse to speak, but your contact, Snow Wolf, wasn’t as stubborn as you. He confessed to everything. Why persist?” Yu Cheng chuckled, his tone so relaxed it was as if Xie Zhiming’s confession didn’t matter to him at all.

It’s over—they even know Kawakami Kenta’s codename. The situation is dire. Did Senior Kawakami truly betray the Empire?

No, that can’t be! If Kawakami had surrendered, then the Shadow Group’s secrets would have been fully compromised, since everything Xie Zhiming knew, Kawakami also knew.

If he was of no value, why would they suddenly intensify the interrogation? Their urgency made no sense.

“I... I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Xie Zhiming replied weakly.

Wei Liangbi, standing nearby and long since impatient, couldn’t hold back. He said to Yu Cheng, “Chief Yu, let me remind you: the chief’s orders were to get a confession, dead or alive. If your Intelligence Division can’t manage, our Action Division can. Don’t waste time!”

“Chief Wei, interrogating suspects is Intelligence’s responsibility. I know how to proceed.” Irritated by Wei’s urging, Yu Cheng lost patience. “Use the electric chair. Increase the current. Whether he survives is up to fate!”

The interrogators stripped Xie Zhiming of his tattered clothes, hoisted him onto the electric chair, fixed electrodes to every sensitive part of his body, and began the torture.

The brutality of electric torture is beyond ordinary comprehension. Violent currents wracked Xie Zhiming’s body with convulsions. Besides feeble resistance, he could do nothing as agony surged through his limbs, reopening all his wounds, until he was drenched in blood, a figure of crimson.

At last, when a round ended, Yu Cheng resumed his questioning: “How’s that? Uncomfortable? Still no intention to talk? You may be a tough man, but my patience is running out. Higher setting!”

Ning Zhiheng, who had been waiting all along, was fully prepared to act the moment Xie Zhiming neared death, ready to read his memories.

The interrogators were about to increase the voltage when Xie Zhiming finally broke.

“Stop! Stop it!” he cried.

He knew he had reached his absolute limit. Death itself now seemed a luxury he could not afford.

“Stop!”

Yu Cheng’s eyes lit up. He shouted swiftly to halt the interrogators.

“Water,” Xie Zhiming gasped. He had not survived this final ordeal. He was like a tiny boat capsized in a stormy sea, lost in endless waves of pain, unable to reach the shore. If only he could end his own suffering.

“I’ll talk!”

Yu Cheng waved his hand, and a military doctor entered at once to bind Xie Zhiming’s wounds and offer brief first aid.

Ning Zhiheng brought a cup of water and helped the immobile Xie Zhiming drink. He wasn’t surprised that Xie Zhiming had finally broken; after all, Japanese agents were flesh and blood too. Much as they boasted of their so-called bushido spirit, few could truly live up to it. Under such torture, who could face death so fearlessly?

Yu Cheng signaled for all interrogators to leave, so only the four officers from Intelligence and Action remained.

“All right, Mr. Xie—no, Black Sparrow. Now tell me: your real name?” Yu Cheng took up the interrogation record and began.

“Shima Hiroshi, operative of the Japanese Tokko. As you know, I am the new leader of the Shadow Group,” Shima Hiroshi replied, his breath weak.

“What was your mission in Nanjing this time?”

“Contact with the Shadow Group’s radio was lost, headquarters realized something had gone wrong, so I was sent to verify and reestablish the group.”

“How many members are in the Shadow Group?” Yu Cheng pressed, not wanting to waste time.

Shima Hiroshi swallowed with difficulty, hesitating.

“Black Sparrow, since you’ve chosen this new path, don’t cling to false hope. I warn you: we know far more about the Shadow Group than you think,” Wei Liangbi barked, losing patience. “Don’t flatter yourself about your importance. We’ve already captured Windmill, Puppet, and Snow Wolf. Just imagine how many cards we have in hand. If you hold anything back, you won’t get another chance!”

This broke Shima Hiroshi’s resistance. The others present knew those three had all perished in Military Intelligence’s hands; if not, all hope wouldn’t be pinned on Shima Hiroshi.

But Shima Hiroshi himself did not know.

At last, he relented. “Besides those you’ve captured, there are three more.”

He quickly revealed the cover identities of the three members:

The boss of De’an Trading Company, Xuan Kangnian, codename Pomegranate;

The Director of the Transport Division of the Military Government Office, Dai Hongguang, codename Magnolia;

Vice-captain of the Action Team at the Nanjing Office of the Central Party Affairs Investigation Department, Ma Hong, codename Bell.

“What did you say—the Central Party Affairs Investigation Department? I warn you, Shima Hiroshi! If you dare to falsely implicate, and it’s proven, there are fates far worse than death!” Yu Cheng was visibly shaken by the last name.

“I know. I have no reason to lie. Ma Hong was recruited by Xuan Kangnian two years ago. This can be easily verified,” Shima Hiroshi confirmed. The agent codenamed Bell was a crucial plant Tokko had placed within China’s intelligence apparatus. Unfortunately, he had not escaped after all.

The other three officers’ faces also changed. If an ordinary person, even a regular government official, was a spy, that would be one thing. With the abilities of the Japanese intelligence services, it was not difficult to position agents to collect intelligence.

But the Central Party Affairs Investigation Department? That was the most powerful intelligence agency of the Nationalist Party, dominant until the foundation of the Military Intelligence Service. With branches in every province, city, and county, its operations spanned the entire country. Only recently had its prominence been surpassed by the Military Intelligence Service. Still, the two organizations were on par, their roles distinct.

The Central Party Affairs Investigation Department focused on monitoring the Nationalist Party itself, suppressing all non-Nationalist factions, and controlling public opinion and thought—especially targeting the Reds, its greatest and most dangerous adversary.

The Military Bureau, meanwhile, was under the army, tasked with gathering all kinds of intelligence, overseeing the military, and targeting hostile forces for arrest and assassination. Their domains rarely overlapped, and any information that did was to be handed over to the appropriate bureau.

Officially, there should have been no conflict of interest. In reality, however, there had never been a moment’s peace between the two, their rivalry fierce and unending.

The chief, in particular, harbored deep resentment toward the Central Party Affairs Investigation Department, having suffered at its hands in the past. Now, wielding great power and enjoying the leader’s favor, he was always on the lookout for opportunities to retaliate. Any chance to make life difficult for the Department, he seized without hesitation.

This was an open secret in Military Intelligence. The Department, however, was not to be underestimated—its structure was tight, its roots deep. The competition remained deadlocked.

Yet Shima Hiroshi’s confession made the officers’ eyes light up. The mighty Central Party Affairs Investigation Department, the largest intelligence agency in the Nationalist Party, charged with catching spies—had a Japanese agent in its ranks!

Astonishing. Delightful, even.

They had always suspected the Shadow Group’s members were not ordinary people; only those in key positions could access classified information. Still, for the Japanese to penetrate the ranks of the Central Party Affairs Investigation Department was truly surprising.

If true, this would be an enormous scandal. The officers, well aware of the chief’s temperament, were immediately excited. Reporting this would be just the opportunity to win his favor—an unparalleled chance to prove themselves.