Sir, times have changed

"Switching them out?" Yoshino Tomokazu was visibly taken aback.

"Your uncle may disdain doing this sort of thing, but that doesn't mean I don't know how..." Yoshino Takehiko's voice sounded somewhat bleak.

It was as though he could see his present self betraying his former self, step by step.

This was the story of a young dragon slayer who ultimately became an evil dragon-or perhaps the boy had been an evil dragon all along...

With a sigh, Yoshino Takehiko continued, "It's a very simple trick."

"Mix scrapped firearms in with the real ones."

"Have Shimura take a batch of scrapped firearms away for disposal in the name of your Dispatch Section."

"Then have Yamada draw supplies from the warehouse and deliver them to the Peace and National Salvation Army on Panshi Road."

"Mark the weapons intended for Chen Fan beforehand. Once you reach the meeting place, hand the goods over to him first."

"Then put the scrapped firearms underneath the real guns."

"Remember, these firearms need to be packed inside."

"Once their warehouse signs the acceptance slip, whatever happens afterward has nothing to do with us."

"When they open the crates and discover something wrong, they won't dare make a fuss. They'll have no choice but to investigate their own warehouse."

Yoshino Tomokazu asked worriedly, "Uncle, what if they really throw caution to the wind and report it to their superiors...?"

Yoshino Takehiko leaned back. "Tomokazu, surely you know what sort of troops the Peace and National Salvation Army are."

"These men are greedier than we are. How many of the guns circulating out of Shanghai were sold by them?"

"Besides, Yamada will have the signed receipt. Even if they're unhappy, would they really dare expose it?"

"The inspectors are just waiting for an excuse to teach these parasites of the empire a lesson..."

"If they have any sense, they won't blow this out of proportion."

"If they really do make a scene, a few ringleaders will be shot, and the men beneath them will be delighted to have a chance to move up."

Yoshino Tomokazu's eyes lit up. "Uncle, brilliant. Absolutely brilliant..."

They wasted no time. Yoshino Takehiko signed an authorization slip for Yoshino Tomokazu to take away, while Yamada Ryosuke drove a truck bearing the military police insignia to Warehouse Seven at Huishan Wharf in Yangshupu.

Meanwhile, with Department Chief Yoshino Takehiko's authorization slip in hand, Shimura took five crates of firearms labeled for disposal from the scrap area and boarded a Dispatch Section transport truck.

Elsewhere, after Yamada finished checking the supplies with the warehouse staff, both sides signed, and he stepped on the gas and drove out of the warehouse compound.

Under cover of darkness, Yamada drove to the designated location, replaced the real guns with the scrapped ones, then headed toward Wusong Road.

By then, Chen Fan had long since arrived with Ma Xiaotian and the others and was waiting there.

Ma Xiaotian's job was to clear away traces. Once all the goods were unloaded, he immediately loaded them onto the handcarts prepared in advance and covered them with thick tarpaulins. The group escorted the carts toward the warehouse.

Chen Fan handed Yamada the silver dollars he had prepared. Yamada stuffed the money beneath the driver's seat. Neither side exchanged greetings, and they went their separate ways with perfect mutual understanding...

Eight that evening...

Chen Fan waited in the warehouse.

Both the front and rear entrances of this warehouse were being watched.

Chen Fan stood behind a pile of empty wooden crates, his back against the wall and both hands tucked into his overcoat pockets.

He said nothing, but his eyes remained fixed on the front entrance.

Cao Bin had bought information from Gao Laoquan: Chang Jiu had already approached him.

He knew Rui Qingrong's temperament. Once Rui had thoroughly investigated his background, he would definitely make a move.

But no one could say for certain when they would come or which route they would take.

He could only resort to the most primitive method: waiting.

As midnight approached, thick clouds had obscured the moonlight, and the people inside the warehouse were gradually growing impatient with the wait.

The electric lights beneath the vaulted roof swayed slightly in the cold wind, making the shadows on the floor stretch and shrink...

Though everyone was impatient, no one spoke...

Ma Xiaotian's Cleaners squad remained concealed at the back. They were responsible for cleaning up after the battle.

Long Si had a cigarette between his lips, his large saber resting beside him.

Along both sides of the warehouse stood men Chen Fan had selected from among his brothers who had served in the military and fired guns before. Some had come from Shengping Theatre, some were Brother Bao's men, and others had been introduced by Cao Bin.

Chen Fan wasn't afraid of a mole among them, because he could spot one at a glance...

Rapid footsteps thudded toward them. Brother Bao came through the entrance and ran to Chen Fan's side. "They're here. Sixty or seventy of them."

Chen Fan scoffed. "Sending sixty or seventy men after a small-time boss like me? Rui Qingrong certainly thinks highly of me."

"But it won't matter how many men they have."

"Tell the brothers to get ready. Shoot anyone you see. Don't worry about wasting bullets..."

"Yes..."

Outside the Chen warehouse, Chang Jiu charged over at the head of a large crowd.

Despite the late hour, the warehouse's main doors stood half-open. There was no sound from within, but there was light.

Chang Jiu did not immediately barge into the warehouse. Instead, he crouched and waved to the men behind him.

The thugs slowly pressed forward, gripping their knives and axe handles tightly. Some had already drawn pistols from inside their clothes.

Chang Jiu told them, "Master Rong said everyone gets a hundred silver dollars once tonight's job is done."

"You've all been working under Master Rong long enough to know his temperament."

"If we botch this, we'll all pay for it. All right, the usual rules. Attack anyone you see. Get in there..."

As his words fell, the thug in front kicked open the half-closed warehouse doors and charged inside, shouting...

Then he froze in place as though struck by an immobilization spell...

Because before him stood a row of dark gun muzzles-not a dozen or so, nor twenty-odd.

Gun muzzles protruded from all across the warehouse.

What made Chang Jiu's chest tighten most were the two light machine guns mounted on sandbags, one on either side of the warehouse.

Their muzzles pointed straight at him, like two ice-cold iron snakes that did not even need to breathe.

Chang Jiu froze in place. He had seen guns and used them, but when Shanghai gangs fought over wharves and territory, they always led with knives and axes, with a few pistols backing them up at most.

When had he ever seen anything like this?

This was no gang fight. They had clearly walked into an army's carefully prepared ambush.

The men behind him were stunned too. A few timid ones had already backed against the walls, shrinking their necks and not daring to move, their knife tips trembling like reeds in the wind.

Young man, you have no martial virtue...

Chen Fan's voice rang out from the back. "Why aren't you firing? Waiting for a midnight snack?"

Clack, clack. The machine guns' bolts were pulled back. The next instant, rat-tat-tat! Machine-gun bullets swept toward them like a raging storm.

In just a few dozen seconds, bodies lay strewn across the floor, and cries of agony rose one after another...

Chang Jiu lay flat on the ground, shaking like a sieve. Half his face was covered in blood mixed with dirt. He did not know whether it was his own or someone else's.

Footsteps thudded toward him as Chen Fan approached with Long Si and Ma Xiaotian.

By now, Chang Jiu was terrified out of his wits. He kept kowtowing and begging for mercy. "Spare me, heroes! Don't-don't kill me..."

Chen Fan stepped forward, slowly crouched, and picked up the small axe Chang Jiu had dropped in front of him...

"Hmph. You thought you could take me on with a few lousy axes?"

"Sir, times have changed..."