cicada

Chapter 1521 Acting According to the Law (by Mr. Zuo)

Pseudo-mite, Xinjing.

Chaos erupted in a house near the palace, where servants were packing up valuable paintings, calligraphy, and valuables, leaving expensive silks scattered on the ground and trampled with footprints.

Amid the chaos, the radio in the main room was playing news from the fake "Central Broadcasting Bureau," and the female announcer had lost her usual composure, her voice revealing panic.

"The Empire of Japan is launching an offensive against the Red Russian forces in the Far East. The war is progressing rapidly. All military personnel and civilians should remain calm, obey the orders of the authorities, and safeguard social order."

(Is there anyone doing voice acting, like that weak and listless tone?)

"Thud~"

A well-maintained hand, covered in age spots, turned off the radio. The owner of the hand was about sixty years old, dressed in a pseudo-official's robe. The lights illuminated the room brightly, but could not dispel the gloom in the other person's heart.

Compared to ordinary people, the elderly in high positions know more. The so-called attack is pure fabrication. On the contrary, the Red Russians have already made preparations for war.

Even before the end of the war against Germany, Red Russia began transferring troops to the Far East, and has now amassed a massive force of over 150 million men, forming three army fronts.

The Mite Country is now like a house on the beach, it can collapse at the slightest push, and when to take action depends entirely on the mood of the Red Russians.

As for the Japanese, the Kwantung Army was currently preoccupied with its own problems and could only huddle in its fortifications in various places, completely powerless to resist the battle-hardened elite of the Red Russia.

"Ugh."

A sigh escaped his lips, and the old man gently tapped his hand on the edge of the table. The jade thumb ring on his thumb emitted a faint green light under the lamplight, gradually blending with the moonlight streaming into the room.

The servants outside were still busy moving valuables when suddenly everyone stopped. A young man walked into the courtyard, and the servants all knelt down and kowtowed.

"This servant greets Second Master."

The servants, referring to the Second Master, continued walking towards the main room, casually waving his right hand. Only then did the servants carefully get up to continue tidying up, but their movements became much lighter.

The carved wooden door of the main house slowly closed, and burly guards began patrolling in front of and behind the house. Everyone in the mansion consciously avoided the area, including the so-called masters.

The guard leader stood on the steps with his hands on his hips, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings, while he could faintly hear the voices of an old man and a young man.

"I have met Father."

"Well, it's good that you're back. How's the situation over there?"

“Your Majesty, that place is different from other places. It is like the rising sun, where everything is flourishing and everything is renewed.”

"Oh? It seems the world is about to descend into chaos again."

The guard leader's ears twitched, and he took two more steps outside. There was a moment of silence in the main room behind him, and then the conversation resumed.

“A few days ago, someone from the palace came and said that the Japanese wanted to investigate your whereabouts, but the Emperor turned them away.”

"Thank you very much, Father and Your Majesty."

"Hey, we're all family. The Emperor tells you to do your job well over there. No matter what happens in the future, don't show your face."

“Ama, yes.”

The young man grew anxious and wanted to argue, but the old man cut him off. The guard leader listened intently to the commotion inside the house.

“No buts. Back when those bandits dragged the emperor out of the palace, I was just like you, wishing I could fight those traitors to the death. But your grandfather asked me a question.”

"He asked me whether the ancestral empire was more important or the emperor. Today I'm passing this question on to you, so you can tell me the answer."

The aged voice spoke slowly and deliberately. The young man remained silent for a long time, seemingly struggling and thinking, before finally giving a hoarse answer.

"The land of our ancestors is important."

"That's right. Of course we must be loyal to the Emperor, but it depends on the situation. When it comes to a critical moment, you shouldn't even acknowledge me as your father. In their words, it's called drawing a clear line, right?"

“I understand, Father.”

The young man was respectful, and the old man took a few sips of tea before posing his second question.

"I'll ask you again, which do you think is more important, money or a gun?"

"Reporting to Father, your son thinks the gun is important; without the gun, money becomes a disaster."

"No, you're wrong. Guns aren't easy to handle, especially for people like us. So what we need to do is use money to influence, or even help, those who have guns. That way, the Mite Kingdom won't perish."

The old man's voice grew more agitated as he spoke: "The situation back then was even worse than it is now, but so what? The Emperor still came back, didn't he?"

"You and the rest of the clan members who remain must be patient. Don't pay attention to anything else, don't inquire about information, and don't get involved in any messy things. Thirty years, fifty years, a hundred years, just stay here and establish a firm foothold."

"As long as we have relatives overseas, and as long as we have that sum of money in British and American banks, this world will eventually belong to us again."

"The Jews will also help us. They are also subjects of a fallen nation, and they have a lot of influence in the upper echelons of the United States. The Nationalist government will not dare to disobey the Americans' orders." "If there is an emergency, you can contact No. 13 Cotton Tree Road, Central District, Hong Kong. There is a contact point there."

The young man replied yes, then seemed to remember something and asked, "Father, a lot of people have been arrested in the mountain city recently. Are any of our people from back then among them?"

"That's right, there are a few brats from the Imperial Clan Court. Just leave this matter alone; they won't confess." The old man said confidently.

The conversation ended there, and the house fell silent. The head of the guards patrolled the courtyard before returning alone to his nearby residence.

In the dead of night, a dark figure bent down and picked something up as he passed the wall of the chief's residence, then quickly walked in another direction and disappeared into the night in the blink of an eye.

In the early hours of the morning, in the basement of a restaurant in Xinjing, a man and a woman stared solemnly at a note on the table.

Not long ago, a secret telegram was sent from the mountain city, instructing them to closely monitor the movements of the pseudo-mite's top leaders, especially the children of those pseudo-mite leaders who appeared to be progressive in thought but acted in a deviant manner.

The two thought it was just a routine investigation, but they never expected that so much was hidden behind it. The fake mite not only successfully possessed the body but also wanted to do it again.

After a long while, the woman looked up and ordered, "Old Chen, this is a serious matter. Report this to headquarters immediately."

The man put his hands in his sleeves and nodded upon hearing this: "Okay, I'll go right now. Xiu Ning, what are these people thinking, rushing to be the Americans' dogs?"

Hearing his words, the woman's expression remained indifferent. Regardless of what the other party wanted to do, she had to ask the Military Intelligence Bureau for permission first.

At the same time, several intelligence groups of the Military Intelligence Bureau, which had infiltrated the puppet state, also sent secret telegrams to the mountain city. The night of the 29th, Luojiawan was unusually busy.

The next day.

The No. 1 Court of Chongqing was packed to capacity, with hundreds of reporters and cultural figures in attendance, and the sound of camera flashes was constant.

Less than a week after the large-scale arrests launched by the Military Intelligence Bureau, there was much discussion about it.

Some people see this as a form of white terror, while others see it as a necessary means of eliminating traitors. Therefore, today's trial has attracted the attention of many interested parties.

This included Adams, who sat quietly in a corner of the gallery, next to Zuo Zhong, who was wearing sunglasses.

At 9:00 AM sharp, the judge in charge of the case entered the courtroom, and the defendant was also brought out. The murmurs gradually subsided, and the trial officially began.

First, the court clerk read out the names of the presiding judge and the accompanying judges, the case details, and the defendant's name, place of origin, and other information.

This step is unnecessary but essential because it proves that the trial was conducted in accordance with the law, and that the Military Intelligence Bureau was not arbitrarily arresting people, but rather dealing with traitors who colluded with the Japanese puppet regime and spread rumors.

The prosecutor then introduced the first defendant's treasonous conduct and the applicable legal provisions, and the audience fell silent.

So far, the trial proceedings have been extremely standardized, and even the most critical person couldn't find any fault with them, so everyone had no choice but to continue listening.

The gray-haired judge adjusted his glasses and asked the defendant if he pleaded guilty. The reporters held their breath, waiting for his answer.

The defendant's eyes darted around, and suddenly he shouted at the packed audience: "I'm innocent! I'm here to plead for the people!"

Boom! The gallery erupted in uproar, the clamor instantly drowning out the courtroom. Adams glanced to the side with a playful expression, while Zuo Zhong remained unfazed, smiling as he watched the farce unfold.

The presiding judge frowned, picked up his gavel and tapped it: "Silence, silence. Now, submit your evidence."

Upon hearing this, the prosecutor stood up and presented the relevant evidence one by one, such as the appointment documents issued by the puppet government to the defendant, the letter of appointment from the Japanese side, and the records of telegrams exchanged between the two sides.

Moreover, several of the reporter's colleagues testified as witnesses, and the Military Intelligence Bureau also sent people to recount the "investigation" process of the case.

"Does the defendant plead guilty?" the presiding judge asked in a cold tone.

Faced with "conclusive" evidence and recalling the agents' warnings, the man in the dock trembled slightly, finally lowering his head and replying, "I plead guilty."

"You bastard! You traitor!"

Someone in the audience shouted angrily, and the judge's repeated hammer blows failed to control the situation. Adams, sitting in the corner, sneered and raised his hand to applaud.

"Clap clap clap, General Zuo, what a perfect performance! Your men should be actors; they are more professional than Broadway actors."

Hearing the Americans' sarcasm, Zuo Zhong smiled smugly, but denied it, saying, "Mr. Adams, this is not a performance. The sacred law cannot be desecrated. Zuo and his men have always acted in accordance with the law."

He spoke with such righteous indignation, as if it were the truth, that Adams felt nauseous after listening and lost all interest in listening any longer. He stood up and walked out.

As Adams passed by Zuo Zhong, he whispered provocatively, "Do you really think you've won? In your Republic of China parlance, the one who laughs last laughs best."

At this point, the presiding judge announced that the defendant was guilty and sentenced him to life imprisonment in accordance with the "Wartime Regulations for the Punishment of Traitors." The defendant expressed his acceptance of the verdict.

Zuo Zhong stood up from his seat, looked at the American's back and said calmly, "Is that so? Then let's see who has the last laugh."

Adams' breath hitched, a sense of foreboding rising within him. He strode to the roadside, opened the car door, and got in, giving urgent instructions to the driver.

"Quickly, notify our friends and tell them to evacuate immediately!"