Chapter 110: The Checkpoint

Entering the Iwai Mansion disguised as Ma Xiaowu, Li Wensheng removed his makeup beforehand to avoid drawing attention.

His true face was revealed, but aside from the dozen or so people he encountered running out of the central building, everyone else who had seen his appearance was already dead.

As for those dozen people, although they saw him, it was impossible for them to discern his features clearly since he had been running at the time.

Still, even though his identity remained concealed, Li Wensheng was far from naive enough to think he could swagger back into the French Concession unchallenged.

He was wounded; to walk straight up to the checkpoint and submit to the military police inspection would surely end in capture.

More importantly, he did not possess the good citizen certificate issued by the island nation.

Yesterday, when he came this way, martial law had not yet been declared; the checkpoint at the concession entrance only inspected luggage. But now, with martial law in effect, they would definitely check the good citizen certificates.

Along the way, whenever he approached ordinary checkpoints, he immediately detoured—left, right, weaving through side streets. By early afternoon, around one o'clock, Li Wensheng arrived near the concession checkpoint.

He hadn’t eaten since morning and was already famished. On a street just a few hundred meters from the checkpoint, he scanned the area and headed toward a noodle stall set up under a roadside canopy.

After finishing a bowl of noodles and paying, Li Wensheng stood by the alley entrance next to the stall, leaning against the wall as he smoked.

Eating at a street stall and then smoking against a wall was quite normal—many people did the same. Thus, no one found his behavior unusual.

After a couple of puffs, Li Wensheng subtly observed his surroundings. Seeing no one paying attention, he slowly moved away from the wall, squinted, and reached his left hand behind his back as if scratching an itch.

In that instant, a document appeared in his left hand.

The document materialized and disappeared quickly—in the blink of an eye, it vanished.

Scratching behind his back, he withdrew his left hand and leaned back against the wall, frowning.

Just then, while pretending to scratch, he had extracted the list of traitors and submitted it to the system. Once the task was submitted, the list immediately retracted into the system’s space.

The reward for this mission was a hundred rounds of 80mm mortar shells.

Li Wensheng thought the reward was quite decent, worthy of the risk. Though not a skill, having a hundred mortar shells was significant—he had run out of these rounds during the assassination attempt on Emperor Showa Hirohito in the island nation. With these shells, he could once again deploy artillery.

Satisfied with the reward, his frown came from the immediate appearance of a new task upon submission.

This new mission was different. Though it still offered four difficulty levels—easy, normal, hard, and hell—there was an added parenthesis with the number two.

A series mission. This was Li Wensheng’s first time encountering such a thing.

“Task two... The stolen list must have been task one. Then task two should be the assassination of the traitors on the list.”

“But how do you assign difficulty levels to assassinations? Could the ranking be based on different methods of killing?”

“Using a gun, a knife, poison?”

“No, that can’t be so simple. If it were that straightforward, the hell-level mission would be too easy.”

“How exactly are they categorized?”

“Forget it, I won’t think about it now. I should focus on getting back to the French Concession first. As for the missions, I can mull them over once I’m back. Besides, I need to recover from my wounds before taking on another task.”

After some thought, Li Wensheng stepped out of the alley and began wandering along the street. A few minutes later, he stopped in front of a sunflower seed vendor.

He grabbed a handful and started eating while adjusting his posture, slightly turning his body and using his peripheral vision to observe the distant checkpoint.

After tasting a few seeds, he said to the vendor, “Weigh out two jin.”

Having bought the seeds, Li Wensheng continued strolling around, peering at one shop after another, completely blending in as a casual passerby shopping for snacks.

On the surface, it appeared he was deciding what to buy, but inside, he was deeply troubled.

When he bought the seeds, he noticed a long line of civilians waiting for inspection at the checkpoint.

The military police were conducting thorough checks—baggage, body searches, and good citizen certificates.

He had anticipated such scrutiny and never thought he could simply walk through. He planned to fight his way in.

He hadn’t brought Wang Feng along precisely because storming in would be too dangerous for him.

His worry was the number of military police—far more than he had expected.

Yesterday, at the checkpoint, there had been only about ten military police. He had assumed that even under martial law, their numbers would not exceed twenty.

After all, the Iwai Mansion and the military police belonged to the Foreign Affairs Ministry and the Army, respectively, and the two departments did not get along. If something happened at the Iwai Mansion, the military police would likely only pay lip service and not exert themselves fully.

But to his utter surprise, the military police had gone all out, with over forty of them stationed at the checkpoint.

After leaving a candy store shortly after, Li Wensheng glanced at the checkpoint again, then turned and walked away from it, his mind racing.

“I can’t delay any longer. The bullet in my wound hasn’t been removed yet. If the injury worsens, it’ll be a real problem. I have to get back to the French Concession today.”

“That means I must force my way through. But with injured hands and over forty military police, there’s no way I can handle them all. I need another plan.”

“What kind of plan?”

Suddenly, an idea flickered in his mind. He stopped and muttered, “Maybe I should buy something first!”

With that, he turned and headed back toward the candy store.

As he walked, he shifted his attention from the military police to the Waibaidu Bridge ahead.

The International Settlement had been occupied by the island nation to the north and east.

The boundary between the northern and central districts was the Suzhou River. The Sihang Warehouse sat just north of the river, adjacent to the northern district of the concession, facing the central district across the river.

This explained why during the bloody battle at the Sihang Warehouse, people in the concession could clearly see the fight, and why within the same country, soldiers shed blood for their homeland on one side, while just a few hundred meters away, merchants and high officials’ children cavorted with dancers amid lights and wine.

There was only one route from the northern district to the central district: crossing the Waibaidu Bridge in Hongkou.

At the candy store, Li Wensheng feigned reluctance as he stepped inside and called out to the clerk, “Give me one jin of that black candy I just looked at.”

Cradling the bag of candy, he exited the store, pretending to be regretful and shaking his head, while discreetly scanning the street environment.

This area was called Hongkou. Over twenty years prior, the island nation had stationed troops here.

After garrisoning, they encouraged their expatriates to settle in Hongkou, causing the local islander population to grow rapidly. Before the war broke out, the islanders had already gained considerable influence in the district.

Many shops on the street displayed island-style architecture and sold island-made goods.