Chapter 2: An Assassin Targets the Old Marshal!

Outside Carriage 18, two guards stood with rifles crossed, shouting at a black man in the uniform of the Fengtian Army. Had they not recognized the colonel’s insignia on his shoulder, they would have chambered their rifles and fired back at once.

“I am Colonel Jiang Bai, commander of the regiment. I have urgent military business and must report to the Marshal immediately!”

“Halt!” The Marshal’s guard rejected him without hesitation. “The Marshal is already asleep. Even in an emergency, you must have an order from a brigade commander or higher to enter. If you don’t have it, go fetch your brigade commander!”

Jiang Bai’s brow furrowed deeply at this. An order from the brigade commander?

There were only fifty-six seconds left.

If he really went to get one, it would be too late!

“The order’s right here. Let me get it out!” As soon as he finished speaking, Jiang Bai struck out with both fists, and the two vigilant guards instantly crumpled to the ground.

Other soldiers in the rear of the carriage watched, faces changing dramatically, as Jiang Bai strode away and the guards lay on the floor.

“What’s that officer up to?”

“He’s forcing his way through the Marshal’s guards? Damn, is he an officer or an assassin? He’s here to assassinate the Marshal?!”

“Stop him, stop him!”

Chaos erupted within the carriage!

Amid the commotion, a staff officer from the bodyguard detail rushed headlong into the Marshal’s carriage, shouting, “Marshal, you must escape! There’s a deadly black assassin—our men can’t stop him!”

A black assassin?

Zhang Zuolin, propped up on his bed, was momentarily stunned.

In his more than ten years as Governor of Fengtian Province, he had survived over fifty assassination attempts, with attackers of all kinds—Russians, Japanese, even countrymen.

But a black assassin was a first.

“One black man and you can’t hold him back? What are you doing with all those weapons? Even if you lot were pigs, you should be able to bite him to death!”

After all, every soldier in the forward carriages was either well-trained or gifted in strength and combat. They were either graduates of military academies or men promoted from the ranks by merit—solid candidates for the future officer corps of the Fengtian Army.

Yet a single black man had broken through to the central carriages.

With a snarl, Zhang Zuolin rolled off his bunk, drew his pistol, chambered a round, and his eyes burned with rage.

Fengtian’s elite, routed by a single black man!

Was this some kind of drill?

“Damn it, don’t hold me back! I want to see with my own eyes what sort of figure this black man is!”

“Even if old Zhang is to die, I’ll die knowing the truth!” Zhang Zuolin shoved past the officer shielding him and strode toward the next carriage, imperious and unafraid.

But what he saw there left him gaping, his eyes round as ox-bells.

A tall, powerfully built black man in Fengtian uniform shattered the window with a single punch.

Then, as if tossing chicks, he grabbed elite soldiers left and right, hurling them out one by one.

In the space of three or four seconds, he had thrown out seven or eight men.

No one in the carriage was left standing.

“Kill!” One furious Fengtian soldier struggled to his feet and snatched up a rifle, but before he could pull the trigger, Jiang Bai was on him, knocking the weapon aside and booting him clear out the window.

Every motion was fluid, effortless!

Zhang Zuolin couldn’t help but applaud such prowess.

“Fine technique!”

His exclamation caught Jiang Bai’s attention at once.

“Is that so? You’re next!”

“Me, next?!”

Before Zhang Zuolin could process the threat, Jiang Bai was upon him, grabbed his collar, and flung him out onto the grassy embankment.

Placing one foot on the window frame, Jiang Bai paused at the threshold, turned to the writhing soldiers on the floor, and said with a grin, “I’m taking the Marshal with me. Are you coming after me or not?”

With that, he leaped from the carriage.

“Governor Wu, what do we do now?”

All eyes turned to Wu Junsheng.

Wu Junsheng roared, “What do you think? Of course we give chase!”

And he, too, jumped from the train.

Meanwhile, on the grass beside the train, Jiang Bai approached Zhang Zuolin, step by step. Knowing escape was futile, Zhang Zuolin called out loudly, “Hero, if I am to die at your hands today, at least tell me—who sent a black man to kill me?”

“Black man?”

Jiang Bai paused, but then understood. They’d mistaken him for a black man because he hadn’t had time to clean the black stains off his body.

Jiang Bai couldn’t be bothered to explain. Seeing Zhang Zuolin’s bewildered look, he smiled and said, “Someone does want you dead, but not me.”

“What do you mean?”

Jiang Bai didn’t answer. He simply held up his wrist and pointed to his watch. “Ten seconds from now, you’ll know.”

Zhang Zuolin, still confused, followed Jiang Bai’s gaze toward the train.

…

Meanwhile, in the reeds more than a hundred meters from the Sandong Bridge, hundreds of Japanese soldiers lay in ambush, their eyes fixed on the swiftly approaching “flower train.”

“Captain, the demolition team has planted thirty charges near Sandong Bridge. Ready to detonate at any time!”

“Captain, over a hundred commandos disguised as bandits are concealed on both sides of the railway, ready to attack on your order!”

“Captain, Carriage 60, where Zhang Zuolin is, will enter the blast zone in five seconds. Countdown has begun!”

Captain Togo Takeo of the Kwantung Army, commander of the operation, held his breath. As the timekeeper’s urgent reports came in, a strange calm settled over him.

A bouquet of cherry blossoms was tied to Zhang Zuolin’s carriage—an inconspicuous mark to the Fengtian soldiers, but a glaring beacon for the Japanese ambushers lurking in the reeds.

As the train bearing the cherry blossoms drew near, Togo Takeo’s face twisted with anticipation. Using his whole body, he pressed down the detonator.

A thunderous roar erupted.

The carriage marked with cherry blossoms was instantly engulfed in flames. Thirty sacks of explosives detonated in a deafening blast.

Gunpowder combusted in a flash, sending a shockwave that expanded the surrounding gases eight hundredfold. The tremendous force tore the bridge apart, the sudden heat warping the rails. Zhang Zuolin’s private carriage was hurled skyward, nearly shredded to pieces—a scene of utter devastation.

The blast was so immense that it could be heard thirty li away in Fengtian City.

Some speculated, “Was that an earthquake just now?”

Others guessed, “Maybe the army is testing a new cannon?”

Still others scoffed, “These guys are so bored, setting off fireworks for fun! Whose artillery makes a sound like that? It’s more like they’re blasting a mine!”

Watching the plume of smoke in the distance, the Japanese ambassador to Fengtian, Hayashi Hisajiro, was beside himself with excitement, applauding and cheering.

“Excellent, excellent! With Zhang Zuolin dead and the Fengtian Army leaderless, our great Empire will support the Manchu royal pretender to seize power in Fengtian. In less than three years, Manchuria will be the Empire’s largest colony!”