Anti-Japanese War Espionage: I Have an Omniscient Perspective

Inside the photography studio, Mr. Li and his group started having fun on their own.

After setting up the backdrop and lighting, Tang Jingwei pulled two socialites along, posing and discussing makeup. Meanwhile, Young Master Li and the wealthy young man sat to the side, pointing and laughing. It was hardly an audition or a photoshoot; they were clearly having fun, treating the Lianhua Film Studio as their private playground.

Lin Rui stood aside, watching coldly. Zhao Erzhu came upstairs and whispered in his ear, "Chief Huang is here."

Lin Rui whispered to Chen Shan, "I'm leaving this place to you. Keep a close eye on Young Master Li and the others, and make sure nothing goes wrong."

Chen Shan nodded quickly: "Don't worry, Manager, I know what to do."

After giving Chen Shan his instructions, Lin Rui took advantage of the moment when Li Gongzi and his group were focused on having fun and no one was paying attention to him, quietly left the photography studio, quickly walked to the courtyard, and led Huang Dazhu up to the office on the second floor.

Inside the office, he asked, "How is it?"

Huang Dazhu's expression was grave, and he replied in a low voice, "Master, I asked a middleman to make an appointment yesterday afternoon, but they replied this morning that the situation is too tense right now and they won't sell to people of unknown identity. The middleman doesn't dare to get involved too much, for fear of getting into trouble. I've been running around all morning and trying to get through to several people, but I haven't been able to get through. I had no choice but to come and tell you as soon as possible."

Lin Rui thought to himself that Mobil might have the sniper rifle he needed, and their reputation was reliable, making them a safer option than other channels.

We can't just give up like this; it's best to try contacting them and see what happens.

"I understand, you can go back now," he replied calmly.

"Don't worry, boss, I'll definitely find you a better seller."

"No need, don't worry about that for now. By the way, be careful when you go out. Young Master Li is in the film studio. He and you don't get along, so don't run into him."

"OK."

Huang Dazhu quickly left the film studio.

After they left, Lin Rui waited in his office until Young Master Li and the others had finished having fun and left, so he could go out and take care of his business.

Their enthusiasm for filming didn't last long. After an hour, they got bored, threw their costumes haphazardly in the studio, and left the film studio shouting.

After they left, Lin Rui came down from his office.

Zhao Erzhu said angrily, "Manager, these people are just here to cause trouble."

Chen Shan also lamented, "In this world, anyone can get ahead."

"The more flamboyant a person is, the closer they are to death," Lin Rui said coldly.

"Manager, why do you say that?" Chen Shan asked in surprise.

"He cut off many people's livelihoods and doesn't give face to anyone. How long do you think someone who no one likes can live?" Lin Rui asked rhetorically.

The group members seemed to be deep in thought.

Lin Rui then left the film studio.

He didn't bring anything with him, but went to a secondhand clothing store, bought some clothes, and headed to the new safe house.

Inside the safe house, he changed into an inconspicuous dark gray long gown, put on an old top hat, and made some adjustments to his eyebrows and facial features, instantly transforming his appearance.

After disguising himself, he left the safe house and headed to the western section of Avenue Joffre.

The western section of Avenue Joffre was the most prosperous area in the concession, lined with Western-style buildings and shops, where merchants from all over the world had their own businesses.

Following the address Huang Dazhu had found out, Lin Rui quickly found his destination. It was a small shop facing the street with a brass sign that read "Standard Oil French Concession Branch Office" hanging at the entrance. It didn't look particularly eye-catching.

Mobil Oil's Shanghai headquarters was located in the Mobil Building on Sichuan Middle Road in the International Settlement, so the French Concession side was a branch office.

Lin Rui didn't go in directly. Instead, he sat down at a shoeshine stall not far from the branch office entrance and said to the shoeshine man, "I'd like my shoes shined."

"Alright, sir, please put your feet on the footrests," the shoeshine man said warmly.

Lin Rui lifted his foot, letting the shoe shiner polish his leather shoes while activating his special ability, spreading out his perception range to carefully observe the situation inside the branch office.

There were only two people in the branch office: a tall, blond, blue-eyed American man in a sharp suit, leaning against his desk with a newspaper in his hand, occasionally yawning and looking languid; and a local female secretary in a cheongsam, sitting at her desk, organizing documents with her head down, occasionally glancing up at the door.

Lin Rui observed patiently, and after about fifteen minutes, a man in black wearing a top hat walked into the branch office.

As soon as he entered, he greeted his female secretary with a smile and a familiar tone, which showed that he must be a regular customer.

The female secretary stood up, responded respectfully, and then went into the inner office to inform the American manager.

A moment later, the American manager came out of the office, shook hands with him, exchanged pleasantries, invited him into the office, and closed the door.

Lin Rui immediately focused his mind and used his supernatural ability to listen to the conversation inside the office.

The man switched to broken English and said:

"Manager Davis, I'm here today to discuss several oil depots that Mobil owns in the Chinese-controlled area of ​​Shanghai. Now that the Chinese-controlled area of ​​Shanghai is under the control of the Imperial Army, why don't you sell those oil depots to our Imperial Japanese Trading Company? The price is negotiable."

The American manager, referred to as Davis, replied, "I'm sorry, Yamada, the ownership of the oil depot is not something I can decide. I am merely the head of the French Concession branch office. Such an important matter must be reported to the head of the Chinese district in the International Settlement. Only the head of the district can make the decision."

"Hmph, I'll naturally inform your general manager," Yamada sneered. "I'm just letting you know first, hoping you'll put in a good word for me with the general manager."

Davis smiled, his tone somewhat dismissive: "I will report it truthfully, but I don't think headquarters will agree. As you know, ExxonMobil has a huge business base in Japan, and we are not afraid of pressure from the Japanese military. If you try to force a sale, we will protest directly to Tokyo. Do you think Tokyo will give up doing oil business with us?"

Yamada's expression changed drastically instantly; clearly, the other party had hit the nail on the head.

He pulled a box of cigars from his pocket, handed it to Davis, and forced a smile again: "Manager Davis is right, I was too hasty. This box of cigars is from Tokyo, the best Cuban stuff. It's just a small token of my appreciation, and I hope we can maintain a good personal relationship."

Davis accepted the cigar with a smile. "Thank you, I appreciate your kind offer. Don't worry, I'll suggest it to the boss, but I can't guarantee it will work."

"Then I'll have to trouble Manager Davis." Yamada cupped his hands in greeting, didn't press the matter further, turned and left the office, his face still grim. He quickly walked out of the branch office, got into his car and drove away under the protection of two subordinates.

Lin Rui withdrew his supernatural power, now feeling more confident.

This Davis is clearly a greedy man. He readily accepted a box of cigars that Yamada gave him, which shows that he would likely agree to sell arms privately if there were enough incentives.

Moreover, he was the only American in charge of the branch office, with no other staff members, so the risk of private contact was relatively small.

After the shoeshine man finished shining his shoes, Lin Rui paid him, got up, and pretended to stroll around, lingering near the branch office while patiently waiting for Davis to leave.

Time passed slowly, and before we knew it, it was three o'clock in the afternoon.

Davis tidied his desk, exchanged a few words with his secretary, put on his coat, and left the branch office.

He walked along Avenue Joffre and soon entered a bar run by Russians.

Lin Rui quietly followed him and pushed open the door to enter the bar.

It wasn't evening yet, and there weren't many customers in the bar. Only a few people were sitting in a corner, drinking and chatting.

Davis walked straight to the bar, sat down, and said to the bartender in English, "A glass of tequila on the rocks."

The bartender nodded and turned to prepare the drinks.

Davis turned to the side and chatted casually with the foreign man next to him, his tone relaxed, clearly indicating that he was a frequent visitor.

Lin Rui walked over, sat down to the left of the bartender, and said to him, "A glass of tequila, on the rocks."

The same request made Davis glance at him.