Wouldn't It Have Been Better to Do This from the Start?

Yamada Ichiro's mind went blank.

He stared fixedly at Zhang Xueming. That young face, etched with madness, sent a chill through his entire body.

This guy wasn't an officer at all. He was a complete lunatic! A gambler who never played by the rules!

He actually dared to pull a knife on an officer of the Empire in full view of everyone, at the grandest banquet in Harbin City!

Even more terrifying, Yamada Ichiro couldn't see the slightest hesitation or retreat in Zhang Xueming's eyes.

It was a pure, primal killing intent.

He really would kill Matsui!

Yamada Ichiro had not the slightest doubt about it.

He looked around again. The Feng Army officers who had been chatting and laughing now all wore hostile expressions, their hands reaching for the holsters at their waists.

What kind of banquet was this? This was a goddamn Hongmen Banquet!

If they didn't handle this well today, the two of them might really never make it out that door.

Yamada Ichiro took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

He knew Zhang Xueming's trump card.

That damned artillery-position map was just a pretext. What truly gave Zhang Xueming the nerve to act so recklessly was the north.

That very afternoon, he'd received urgent intelligence.

A regiment of White Bear Road Protection Army troops from the Chinese Eastern Railway had suddenly appeared in the disputed territory north of Qingshan Field.

Those White Bears, desperate as they were, were capable of anything.

Zhang Xueming had dug this pit long ago, just waiting for them to jump in!

First, he'd used the artillery threat to force Yamada to the negotiating table. Then he'd brought in the White Bears, cutting off any thought of calling in reinforcements from headquarters.

Every link connected to the next; the whole thing had been calculated down to the last detail!

Yamada Ichiro's back was instantly drenched with cold sweat.

He'd lost.

From the moment Zhang Xueming produced that map, he'd already lost completely.

"Colonel Zhang..." Yamada Ichiro's voice was terribly hoarse. "Your conditions are far too harsh."

He tried to make one last stand.

"I can agree to the first condition. The troops can temporarily withdraw from Qingshan Field while we wait for negotiations at a higher level."

"But as for the second condition, concerning the judicial rights of the Overseas Chinese, the matter is too important. I don't have the authority to decide. I would need to report it back home..."

"And the third..." He glanced at Matsui Shigeki, curled up on the table with blood still running from his neck. The muscles in his face twitched. "Matsui spoke out of turn. I can make him apologize, but..."

"No buts."

Zhang Xueming cut him off coldly.

The blade pressed down a little farther, and Matsui Shigeki let out a muffled cry of pain.

"Yamada, I'm not discussing this with you."

Zhang Xueming's tone was calm, yet carried an unquestionable weight.

"I'm informing you."

"I'll give you ten seconds to think. Either you accept all my conditions, or I send him on his way first, then settle the score with you."

"Ten."

"Nine."

Each number in the icy countdown struck Yamada Ichiro's heart like a heavy hammer.

It was as if all the air around them had been sucked away.

"Eight."

The veins bulged on Yamada Ichiro's forehead, and his fists clenched tight.

Reason told him he should stand firm to the end. The Empire's honor could not be sullied.

But looking into Zhang Xueming's utterly emotionless eyes, he felt the courage draining from his body bit by bit.

"Three!"

"I agree!"

Just as the countdown was about to end, Yamada Ichiro practically roared the words.

All the strength seemed to leave his body, as if his very spirit had been drained away.

A playful curve tugged at Zhang Xueming's lips.

He slowly raised his eyes to Yamada Ichiro, his gaze full of undisguised contempt.

"Wouldn't it have been better to do this from the start?"

He withdrew his military saber, but didn't let Matsui Shigeki get up.

"Old Chu!" Zhang Xueming called out to someone nearby.

Chu Shixin, an officer of the Guard Brigade, immediately strode over and saluted at attention.

"Brigade Commander!"

"Take our men and go with Yamada here to Qingshan Field in person." Zhang Xueming pointed the tip of his saber at Yamada Ichiro. "I don't care what methods you use. Before daybreak, I want to see every last Japanese soldier at Qingshan Field get the hell out."

"Remember, every last one."

"Yes!" Chu Shixin answered crisply, then led a squad of armed guards over to stand "cordially" beside Yamada Ichiro.

Yamada Ichiro's face was ashen. He knew Zhang Xueming had sent men to keep watch over the withdrawal.

"As for you..." Zhang Xueming's gaze fell back on Matsui Shigeki. He tapped the side of Matsui's face, twisted with pain and humiliation, with the back of his saber.

"Get up."

Trembling, Matsui Shigeki got to his feet with the help of his attendants, barely managing to rise from the wreckage scattered across the floor. The agony in his abdomen kept him from straightening up.

"Stand straight!" Zhang Xueming barked.

Matsui Shigeki jolted and forced himself to straighten, enduring the pain.

"Bow to everyone here and apologize." Zhang Xueming's voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly through the entire banquet hall.

Matsui Shigeki's face flushed purple. The humiliation was worse than being killed.

He glared venomously at Zhang Xueming, his teeth grinding audibly.

"Hmm?" Zhang Xueming toyed with the military saber in his hand, his gaze turning cold again.

Yamada Ichiro's heart tightened. He hurriedly shouted at Matsui Shigeki in Japanese, "Baka! Do you want to die? Do as he says! Quickly!"