A Legacy of History

"What historical issues? Do you want me to blow up a toilet?"

Sing Sing reached for the documents on the table, but Director Wang pressed down on the cover first and turned the red top-secret seal in front of him.

"The Toyo Registry Case"

Sing Sing leaned back in his chair. "Sounds like cultural relic repatriation. Tomb raiding isn't under the jurisdiction of the Overseas Special Talent Recruitment Office, right? Even if I dig up gold and silver jewelry, it can't be confiscated to offset my travel expenses."

"Smack!"

Director Wang slammed his fist on the table and roared, "If you utter another word of nonsense, I'll send Anton to Japan with you!"

Sing Sing sat up straight, his expression solemn. "Sir, I never bargain when it comes to national interests! Please give your instructions!"

When the document is opened, the first page contains only a short date.

June 12, 1944.

Turning the paper down further, a laminated sheet of paper was found tucked inside the protective bag.

The writing on it has faded, but the number sixty-three is still legible.

"During the later stages of the War of Resistance against Japan, the Japanese army arrested a number of special individuals within my country's borders."

"The files mention Inhuman, eccentrics, demons, and those with abnormal bloodlines... but most people only have a number."

"According to available data, the oldest person in this group is 51 years old, and the youngest is 9 years old."

Sing Sing's hand, which was holding the paper, did not turn the page any further.

Nine years old?

Nina was about this age when Silver Peak locked her in the lab.

"Where was the person taken?" he asked.

"The Japan Army secretly established the East Asia Specially Qualified Persons Investigation Unit on the mainland, as well as a Third Transfer Station, which is now the Toyo High School."

"The school was rebuilt after the Japanese defeat, but the underground section has never been publicly demolished."

Sing Sing turned to the statistics page, where the paper was divided into three columns.

Nineteen people have been confirmed dead, eleven have escaped, and thirty-three are still missing.

The death column listed a series of numbers: A9, B17, B22, C4, C11...

The experimental results section is even shorter.

Tolerance failure, excessive blood loss, post-dissection devitalization...

Behind every word lies a human life.

That's why we need you to go.

Director Wang took off his brown, semi-transparent, thick-rimmed glasses and rubbed his eye sockets.

"Wolverine's child is just a cover mission for you. Even if you are eventually captured by the Japanese, you will have a plausible excuse."

"I haven't even gone yet! You're practically cursing me to fail my mission!"

Director Wang ignored him and directly pulled out a yellowed group photo from the pile of documents on the table.

The photo shows 63 people standing in a row, with a brick wall behind them. The adults are at the back, while the children in the front row are all teenagers.

Regardless of age, everyone wore a wooden tag with a number on it.

"Of the eleven escapees, one person risked his life to preserve the negatives. In the 1950s, he handed them over to the local archives."

"Later, due to several administrative division adjustments, the materials were stuffed into the archives of the old county annals and gathered dust. They were only rediscovered a few years ago when the archives from the War of Resistance Against Japan were being restored."

What about the eleven who escaped?

"Six people died while fleeing and being pursued by the Japanese army. Two stayed behind to organize an anti-war alliance and returned to China after the war."

Director Wang picked up the mug, took a sip of cold water, and continued, "The remaining three people are missing and their whereabouts are unknown."

Did the two people who returned to China leave anything behind?

Director Wang pulled out an oral history record.

"On the eve of defeat, project leader Kurokawa Sōichi ordered the eviction of all inmates, the burning of files, and preparations to blow up the transit center along with the school."

How did those eleven people escape?

"There's a Japan school doctor at the transit center named Morikawa Kiyoshi. He secretly opened the medicine channel on the east side."

"Japan?" Sing Sing was taken aback.

"Yes, Morikawa Kiyoshi is a member of the local resistance."

What happened to Kurokawa Sōichi afterward?

He changed his name, escaped postwar trials, and died of natural causes in 1988.

"Where's Morikawa?"

"He was shot dead on the spot by Kurokawa for illegally releasing detainees. There is no record of where his body was buried."

Upon hearing this, Sing Sing felt a surge of anger rising within him.

Noticing his agitation, Director Wang tapped the table. "Ah Qi, this case can't be handled with your temper."

"No responsibility should be omitted, and no favor should be renege on."

Sing Sing pulled out a lighter, lit two cigarettes, and puffed them out together. "I'm not a three-year-old. I know what I'm doing."

"Yes. Your task is to find out detailed information about the martyrs, collect evidence, and, if conditions permit, bring back the items that were taken away back then."

Sing Sing exhaled a smoke ring, utterly baffled by the fat man's thought process, "Then why do I have to pretend to be a student? Can't I be a teacher or a security guard?"

"Toyo High School is compiling its school history this year, and some areas of the old school buildings will be handed over to student clubs for inventory."

"Besides, they verify the resumes of three generations before hiring faculty and staff. Do you think your fabricated identity can withstand scrutiny, you idiot!"

Upon hearing this, Sing Sing cursed inwardly.

Verification of three generations?

Where would he find three Japan ancestors to fabricate?

Even if they fabricated it, could the fake information produced by those people in the intelligence department withstand scrutiny?

"So what? Students don't need to investigate their ancestors for eighteen generations?"

"You're a transfer student! The school only checks student records and guardian documents; it's much easier to fool them!"

Sing Sing picked up his fake identity file, and the more he looked at the four characters "Hoshino Seiichi," the more it seemed like an insult from God to him.

But seeing Director Wang's attitude, he knew he couldn't refuse the job.

"Alright, alright."

Sing Sing stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray and resignedly reached out his hand to Wang Pangzi.

"What?"

"Clothing allowance!" Sing Sing said matter-of-factly, "At least let me buy a few decent outfits to dress up."

School uniforms are provided by the school.

"Then give me compensation for emotional distress! You want me, a dignified China special agent, to impersonate Japan? How much psychological trauma would that cause me?"

"No."

Sing Sing got anxious. "Surely there should be a nutritional subsidy for minors, right?"

You're thirty.

"But I was seventeen during the mission!" Sing Sing protested, slamming his fist on the table.

"You can't make me bear the educational obligations of a minor while denying me the nutritional benefits of a minor, can you? This is selective enforcement! It's seriously unfair!"

"If you don't approve this nutrition allowance, I'll eat free pickled vegetables in the school cafeteria every day! I'll faint from hypoglycemia on the playground, and you'll be fully responsible for the mission's failure!"

Looking at his subordinate who could seamlessly integrate Labor Law and the Law on the Protection of Minors in order to obtain subsidies, Director Wang felt his blood pressure soar.

He took a deep breath and silently reached for the red internal telephone on the corner of the table.

What are you doing?

I'll call Anton.

Director Wang pressed the speakerphone button. "Tell him to pack his bags and go to Japan with you to repeat high school. Also, have him audit every expense you make along the way." Sing Sing held the receiver, his face plastered with obsequiousness. "It's our duty to sacrifice our lives for our country! Talking about money is vulgar!"

After saying that, he grabbed the files on the table and slipped out of the office as if his feet were greased.

Director Wang was left staring at the empty doorway, then picked up the jug and took a large gulp of cold water.

"That bastard."