Beiyang Dream

Chapter 65 Chang Desheng's First Assassination Attempt

Chapter 65 Chang Desheng's First Assassination Attempt (Thirteenth Update)

As Chang Desheng watched Qingzi leave, a tension gripped him, and his peripheral vision swept from one end of the restaurant to the other.

Three burly white men (one was behind him, out of sight) were walking towards them from three directions. They weren't walking fast, but their steps were steady, and their eyes were fixed on them.

Chang Desheng's heart tightened immediately.

"assassin!"

With that look in her eyes... she was staring intently at him, taking steps closer, her hand reaching into her robes.

That's like he's about to pull out a gun!

Chang Desheng's mind went blank for a moment, and his back was instantly soaked with sweat.

"Damn." The word popped into his head. "Assassination?"

"I've only been out of Germany for 24 hours and these Japanese assassins have already shown up? And they're white guys too?"

He had specifically instructed Wolfgang to keep an eye out for Asians on the ship. But they didn't follow the script at all and hired white people directly.

"Those damn Japanese, they're pretty good at outsourcing."

Chang Desheng's mind raced, but his body froze. In his past life, the most dangerous scene he had ever witnessed was a client overturning a table, but even that didn't result in anyone dying. These people were clearly here to kill him.

Luo Jingrou noticed it too. She put down her knife and fork, reached into her handbag, and found the small revolver that Chang Desheng had given her.

He moved unhurriedly, with a smile on his face.

"This rich young lady has seen the world," Chang Desheng thought to himself.

The four white men were getting closer and closer, and they were about five or six steps away from him.

Chang Desheng took a deep breath and finally calmed down.

"Don't draw your gun, it's too late."

He grabbed a plate from the table, and without even looking at it, threw it at the face of the white man directly in front of him.

Fuck your mother!

The plate, still dripping with soup, flew over with a whoosh.

The white man directly in front of him was startled and instinctively raised his hand to block. With a "crash," the plate shattered on the ground, and soup splashed all over him.

The white men on either side had already drawn their guns, which looked like revolvers. The black man silently raised the muzzle of his gun, pointing it directly at Chang Desheng.

"It's all over." Chang Desheng felt a chill in his heart.

Just then, a scream rang out from the other end of the restaurant.

It was a female voice, speaking in English, sharp enough to pierce eardrums: "Help! Help!"

It's Haruko.

Chang Desheng glanced over and saw Qingzi grab a plate from the table next to her and throw it at the white man on her right who was pulling out a gun.

The plate missed, but a burst of blood suddenly erupted from the white man's chest.

A shot rang out.

It was the sound of a pistol, a muffled sound, but the restaurant was so quiet that it seemed unusually loud.

The one who fired the shot was a former German sergeant named Hans, who worked under Wolfgang. He was sitting at the table diagonally behind Chang Desheng, holding a gun that was still smoking.

"Leave them alive!" Chang Desheng shouted, already crouching down behind a chair, frantically trying to pull out his gun.

The restaurant erupted in chaos.

Screams, cries, and the sound of plates shattering mingled together. Some people crawled under the table, some ran towards the door, and some simply lay on the ground, covering their heads and remaining motionless.

Luo Jingrou also squatted down, right next to Chang Desheng. She held the small pistol in her hand, muzzle down, but didn't fire, her eyes scanning the surroundings.

"Quite professional," Chang Desheng thought to himself.

"Grab him! Grab him now!" Haruko's voice rang out again. "Close the door! Don't let him get away!"

Several more gunshots rang out.

Then came screams, the screams of a man, in German: "Help me! Help me!"

The restaurant was silent for a few seconds.

Then a short, forceful shout in German rang out: "Safe!"

"Safety!"

"Safety!"

It was Wolfgang and his men.

Chang Desheng slowly stood up, still holding the gun in his hand. His fingers trembled slightly, so he quickly tightened his grip.

In the large dining room, most people had crawled under the tables. Wolfgang's three men, guns at the ready, pointed at three men lying on the ground—two motionless, one still twitching.

Wolfgang dragged a white man over. The man had been shot in the leg, blood pooling on the ground, leaving a long trail of blood. He was still screaming, in German mixed with English: "Help—have mercy—"

Qingzi rushed over, her face filled with panic, her hair disheveled. She threw herself at Luo Jingrou, grabbing her hand: "Jingrou! Jingrou! Are you alright?"

Luo Jingrou patted the back of her hand: "It's okay."

After saying that, she put the small pistol back into her handbag, the movement as natural as putting away a lipstick.

Chang Desheng looked at her, then at the pool of blood on the ground, and then at the screaming white man.

"This rich girl," he thought, "is even more composed than me."

Luo Jingrou noticed his gaze and smiled bitterly: "In Borneo, many people want to kill my father."

Chang Desheng understood.

"So this wasn't the first time she'd encountered an assassin."

He thought to himself, "I'll probably get used to it eventually..."

'

He walked up to the injured white man, knelt down, and looked at him.

The white man was in his thirties, blond and blue-eyed, with a scar on his face that ran from the corner of his eye to his chin. His face was contorted in pain.

"Who sent you?" Chang Desheng asked in English.

The white man glared at him menacingly, spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, and said in German, "Pah! Yellow-skinned monkey!"

Chang Desheng wasn't angry. How could someone who's going to do great things not have this kind of magnanimity? He smiled and said in German, "Say it again?"

The white man stared at him menacingly.

"I'm asking you," Chang Desheng said slowly, "who sent you? Tell me, and I'll find you a doctor. Don't tell me..."

He pointed to the two corpses on the ground.

"You should go with them."

The white man gritted his teeth and remained silent.

At this moment, Hans walked over, holding something in his hand, and handed it to Chang Desheng: "Mr. Commissioner, take a look at this."

It's a badge, made of bronze, polished to a shine. The design is an Iron Cross, with a line of small German text below.

Chang Desheng took it and looked at it under the light.

The front of the badge is engraved with: AlldeutscherVerband (Pan-Germanic Association).

The name is engraved on the back: Friedrich Schmidt.

Chang Desheng frowned.

"Pan-Germanic Association —"

He knew about this organization. It was a far-right German group, racist, anti-Semitic, anti-Slavic, and of course, anti-all non-white. It was considered one of the "founding fathers" of later Nazism, but it was still quite loosely organized, with members mostly being intellectuals, military officers, and politicians.

"These assassins were carrying this thing—"

His mind was racing.

The Pan-Germanic Association opposes all non-whites, but they are now part of the establishment, and their members are all prominent figures. I've never heard of them carrying out assassinations, let alone killing someone as important as themselves.

should----

Someone must have paid these guys to impersonate members of the Pan-Germanic Association to carry out the assassination... to steer the motive for the murder down the path of racism!

After all, if you assassinate someone on a ship, you're unlikely to escape afterward. You'll probably end up in jail for a few years and have to explain your motive.

It seems the Japanese devils have really gone all out this time!

Well, I've learned another trick... Hiring white hitmen to do dirty work, killing people while framing them!

Wow, that's brilliant!

He looked up at the injured white man. The white man was still staring at him, his eyes now filled with fear.

"He probably doesn't even know who he's working for," Chang Desheng thought. "Or rather, he does know, but he doesn't care."

"I'll kill anyone for money."

He glanced at Haruko again.

Qingzi was still holding Luo Jingrou's hand, her face pale and her body trembling slightly. She looked genuinely frightened, yet also very innocent.

"What a charade," Chang Desheng thought to himself with a sneer. "She must have seen Wolfgang and his men draw their guns and knew the assassination attempt had failed, which is why she called for help and threw a plate at the assassins. She was trying to distance herself from the situation and do them a favor."

He stood up and said to Wolfgang, "Hand him over to the captain. Let him do as he pleases... and you are the passengers who acted bravely."

Wolfgang understood.

He nodded and gave his men a look. Two men came over and dragged the wounded white man away.

Chang Desheng then looked at Qingzi, a grateful smile spreading across his face: "Miss Okura, thank you so much. If you hadn't called for help just now, I'm afraid I would have—"

He paused, then didn't continue.

Haruko quickly waved her hand, her face still pale: "N-nothing—it's nothing, I'm just glad Mr. Chang is alright."

"How could you be alright?" Chang Desheng sighed. "I'm sorry you had such a fright. Here, I'll have the kitchen send a bottle of red wine to your room later to calm your nerves."

"No, no need—"

"Yes, yes," Chang Desheng insisted. "You saved my life, what's a little token of my appreciation?"

Qingzi looked at him, then at Luo Jingrou, and lowered her head: "Then—thank you, Mr. Chang."

"Don't mention it." Chang Desheng smiled, a genuinely sincere smile.

After Haruko left, he stopped smiling and his face darkened.

Luo Jingrou leaned closer and whispered, "You suspect her?"

"I have no doubt," Chang Desheng said. "I'm certain."

"Then why don't you—"

"Let's keep her," Chang Desheng said. "There must be other accomplices on the ship... Besides, even if she's gone, the Japanese will send others. Then we'll be in the open while the enemy is in the shadows."

T

Luo Jingrou nodded.

He looked towards the restaurant entrance. The captain had already arrived with several crew members and was talking to Wolfgang. Wolfgang pointed to the two corpses on the ground, gesturing as if to indicate their names.

"This matter," Chang Desheng said in a low voice, "is not over yet."

Haruko leaned against the bulkhead as she walked out of the cabin, her palms cold and clammy, her stomach churning. What was with those white men who suddenly pulled out guns and opened fire on the assassins? Were they Chang Desheng's men? She needed to get back to her room quickly and think it over.

I almost bumped into someone as soon as I stepped out the door.

Looking up, I saw that it was the Qing Dynasty officer surnamed Duan, hiding behind the gate, watching for who knows how long.

Haruko's heart skipped a beat, and her blood ran cold.

How long has he been squatting here? What did he see? Was he sent by Chang Desheng to keep an eye on me?

The paleness she had been feigning was now truly deathly white. She quickly lowered her head, mumbled an apology, and walked away in a flustered manner, like a startled sparrow.

Duan Qirui stood there frozen, his back covered in a layer of cold sweat.

What was that he just saw?!

Chang Zhenbang was assassinated... He was assassinated by a foreigner, but was then protected by another foreigner!

The way those foreigners protecting him drew their guns and killed people was so damn practiced, and... they seemed to be following Chang Zhenbang's orders...

Chang Zhenbang, oh Chang Zhenbang—Duan Qirui watched Qingzi's hasty disappearance, then glanced back at Chang Desheng, who was talking to the foreign captain in the restaurant. For the first time, he felt that his classmate was a little frighteningly deep.

No, I must write this down and report it to the Grand Secretary!

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