Half-Immortals' Group Outing, Reporting to the Torture Chamber

The next day, at the first hint of dawn, while the cool morning mist still lingered, Shanghai's streets filled with fierce-looking Green Gang members.

Surprisingly, these thugs, who usually bullied their way around, neither went door to door collecting protection money nor picked fights. Instead, they searched street after street and alley after alley, asking about extraordinary people with "heaven-reaching abilities."

They even made several rounds through the district where Shen Yan was on duty.

Old Chen hurried over to Shen Yan and gave him quiet instructions:

"Word came down from the Green Gang bosses. This is a direct order from the Special Higher Police. We just need to turn a blind eye. They've promised their men will only look for people and won't cause trouble, so we have to give them this much face. Don't meddle, and don't take it to heart."

"Got it, godfather. As long as they don't harm the neighbors, they can do whatever they like."

Shen Yan leaned against the base of a wall, his fingertips idly rubbing his baton as a flicker of understanding passed through his eyes.

Putting last night's operation together with the reward notification he had received in the middle of the night, he instantly saw what the Japanese and their collaborators were up to-Su Wan and the others had escaped, and the Japanese, unable to find a reasonable explanation for their failure, had started hunting for people with so-called supernatural abilities.

Shen Yan sneered inwardly.

There were some perceptive people among the Japanese after all. They had actually guessed that he had a supernatural ability.

But this rabble wanted to catch him?

Not even in their next lives.

Meanwhile, in a Zhabei alley, Zhang the Half-Immortal had also risen early and was carefully arranging his outfit.

His real name was Zhang Laifu. He had fled famine in Northern Jiangsu and scraped by in Shanghai for over twenty years. In his early years, he had done odd jobs for a fortune-teller at the City God Temple, picking up a few rudimentary lines on the sly. Later, he had simply set up on his own, making his living by falsely claiming he could "open his heavenly eye and see through yin and yang" to swindle people.

He usually targeted elderly people with no family and impoverished women and children. Once he had cheated them out of all their money, he would move somewhere else and lie low. He was a scoundrel the neighbors cursed behind his back.

He had been setting up today's job for a long time.

His target was a lonely old woman whose ancestors had left her several storefronts. Her son, daughter-in-law, and young grandson had all been blown to pieces when the Japanese army attacked Shanghai, leaving not even their bones behind. Since then, she had eaten vegetarian meals and recited Buddhist prayers, intent on earning blessings for her departed loved ones.

After learning her circumstances, Zhang the Half-Immortal had immediately joined forces with two local thugs. They had crouched outside her window in the middle of the night, pretending to be ghosts and deliberately making strange noises, tormenting her until she was dazed and unable to sleep. Then he had made his grand entrance, falsely claiming that her loved ones were suffering in the underworld and that only an expensive ritual could relieve them.

After several rounds of his deception, the old woman had come to trust him completely. She had even declared that she would spend everything she owned to secure peace for her loved ones in their next lives.

Today was the day they had agreed he would come to perform the ritual. Zhang the Half-Immortal was determined to land this lucrative deal.

He wore an old Daoist robe, washed and starched into reasonably neat shape, and carried a horsetail whisk, with a copper bell hanging from his waist and a wooden sword slung at his side. The outfit had cost him a good deal of his savings, but when he thought of the money he would soon have in hand, it all seemed worthwhile.

As he walked down the street, he waved his whisk and muttered under his breath. To passersby who knew no better, he really did look like an accomplished cultivator. No one knew that all his muttering was about where he would lie low and where he would go to indulge himself once he had the money.

The gate to the old woman's courtyard drew closer and closer. Inside the half-closed gate, the incense table and offerings had already been set out. The old woman stood respectfully beside the gate, her hands at her sides, waiting.

This one's in the bag!

Zhang the Half-Immortal was wild with joy, and the corners of his mouth rose despite himself.

He waved his whisk with an air of mystery and spoke in a deep voice:

"Buddha of Infinite Life! Thank you for your efforts, good believer."

As his voice fell, he lifted a leg to step through the gate-

But just then, several agents in black suits suddenly sprang out from the roadside, with a Green Gang thug in a short black-cloth jacket at their head. They hurried over to surround him.

"Taijun, that's him! He's Zhang the Half-Immortal. He says he can open his heavenly eye and discern yin and yang. He's an extraordinary man with great abilities!"

The Green Gang thug pointed at Zhang the Half-Immortal, nodding and bowing as he claimed credit from the agents.

Zhang the Half-Immortal's eyes lit up. He assumed this was new business coming to his door. In these war-torn times, people were actually seeking him out on their own. This line of work really was getting easier and easier.

He hurriedly straightened his clothes and headwear, put on a professional, ingratiating smile, and stepped forward to speak:

"Buddha of Infinite-"

Before he could finish the words, the agent in the lead sneered and shouted:

"Yoshi, seize him!"

"Huh?!"

Zhang the Half-Immortal froze on the spot. Before the smile had faded from his face, two agents pinned him hard to the ground. His palms scraped against the rough stone pavement, stinging fiercely.

His face was full of shock, his eyes utterly bewildered, and he struggled as he hurriedly spoke:

"Sir! Taijun! Is there some misunderstanding? I'm just an ordinary fortune-teller!"

The lead agent bent down and sneered, his eyes sinister:

"No misunderstanding. You have great abilities. The Imperial Army invites you to be its guest and give us a good demonstration. Take him away!"

Without another word, the agents hauled the limp Zhang the Half-Immortal up and quickly dragged him to a police car at the roadside. The engine roared, and the car sped out of the alley and vanished into the morning mist.

The old woman was left standing at the courtyard gate, staring at the empty mouth of the alley, still clutching the money she had prepared for the ritual. She stood there utterly bewildered, unable to recover her senses for a long time.

The police car raced all the way to the Japanese army's Special Higher Police headquarters.

The agents hauled and dragged Zhang the Half-Immortal into a gloomy, chilly interrogation room, his whole body trembling like a sieve. His earlier slick, ingratiating manner was gone, leaving only lingering terror.

The lead agent kicked him to his knees and pointed at a thick cement wall, his voice cold as ice:

"You, open your heavenly eye now. How many people are behind the wall? If you can't tell us, you die!"

The words exploded over his head like a clap of thunder.

All color drained from Zhang the Half-Immortal's face. His legs went weak, and a warm stream ran down his trouser leg-he had wet himself on the spot.

Cloudy tears streamed down his face with his snot as he lay on the floor and kowtowed desperately, knocking his forehead against the ground until blood poured from it:

"Spare me, taijun! Please spare me, taijun! I'm a fraud, a fake! That heavenly eye was all nonsense I made up to cheat people out of money! I just wanted to make a living. I really can't see through walls! I've been wronged, I've been wronged!"

The agent's face turned dark with anger, and he gnashed his teeth at those words. He kicked Zhang the Half-Immortal hard and shouted abuse at him:

"Baka! You're being dishonest! How dare you deceive the Imperial Army? Your conscience is rotten to the core! Men, drag him to the torture chamber and give him a proper reception!"

Two military policemen answered the call, stepped forward, and gripped the limp Zhang the Half-Immortal tightly as they dragged him toward the torture chamber.

As soon as they reached the door, a rising and falling chorus of wails, the swish of whips through the air, and screams of agony assailed him. The pungent stench of blood and burning rushed into his nostrils.

Zhang the Half-Immortal looked up, and his heart instantly sank into despair-

Everyone tied up in the torture chamber was someone he knew. Every last one was a "half-immortal" or "master" who had played supernatural tricks on the streets of Shanghai. They all usually boasted of their boundless powers, but now every one of them had been tortured to the brink of death.

He went limp at once and wailed in despair:

"Retribution! This is all retribution!"