Chapter 59: with translation of chapter title

The sky had just cleared, and a muffled bang roared from Tanggu Port, like a summer dry thunder rolling in from afar. Before anyone could react, explosion after explosion erupted like a boiling pot! Boom—!!!

The ground shivered a few times. Many people of the Tianjin Guard who were still asleep were jolted off the kang, groggily perking up their ears to listen.

In the blink of an eye, the eastern sky was dyed with an abnormal orange‑red hue, black smoke billowing upward like a mushroom cloud, visible from several miles away.

"It exploded! It really exploded!" Someone on the street quickly shouted, their voice trembling with uncontrollable excitement and panic.

At that moment Tanggu Port was in total chaos, like a pot of boiling porridge.

"Fusang Maru" the large cargo ship split in two at the middle, the hull tilting and sinking into the water, leaving only a few masts and twisted steel plates jutting out, spouting flames and black smoke. The explosion also engulfed the adjacent berth and cargo piles; the fire, fed by the wind, grew fiercer, and the shouts of "dad" and "mom", the alarm sirens, the cries of Japanese soldiers, and the whistles of fire‑fighting boats blended into a cacophony that made heads ache.

A layer of oil slick floated on the sea surface, mixed with splintered wood, broken crates, and assorted debris of indeterminate nature.

The Japanese soldiers grew frantic, swarming out like hornets whose nest had been disturbed, bright bayonets sealing off every exit of the port area, allowing no one in or out. A Japanese officer in high‑grade uniform, his face a bruised blue, brandished a command sword, shouting in a garbled roar, spitting droplets far away.

Everyone who had worked in the port area last night, especially the temporary laborers at Pier No. 3, were herded by the ferocious Japanese soldiers and collaborators onto an open space, crouching with heads in their hands; any slow movement was met with a rifle butt smashing down.

"Speak! Who did it?" "Who got near Pier No. 4 last night?" "Did you see any unfamiliar faces?"

The foreman had been terrified long ago, his crotch soaked, his speech halting: "T‑... T‑... everyone... they're all familiar faces... just... the ones who were hauling packages with their strength..."

A small‑time collaborator leapt forward, pointing at the crowd: "What about the newcomer? The skinny tall guy with a Henan accent?"

The foreman, bewildered, replied: "No... I don't know... while working... the person just vanished... I thought he had slacked off and run away..."

"Baka!" the Japanese officer raised his hand and delivered a heavy slap, "Find him! Drag him out! Arrest every laborer! Interrogate them one by one!"

The pier erupted into chaos, cries of pleading and sobbing blending together. Innocent laborers were bound with hemp rope, shoved and dragged away; the outcome was obvious.

In the streets and alleys of the Tianjin Guard, tea houses and eateries, the conversation instantly took a sharp turn.

"Did you hear? Tanggu Port blew sky‑high! The Little Devils' cargo ship sank to the bottom!" "Goodness! Really? Which brave man did it?" "Who else could it be? It must be a guy who couldn't stand watching!" "Well done! Let the Little Devils seize our stuff!" "Shh… lower your voice… but damn, that's satisfying!"

But some people were so worried they chattered their teeth. "It's ruined, ruined… now the sack is torn wide open… the Japanese soldiers will be furious…" "Sigh, another martial law sweep… our peaceful days are over…" "I heard all the laborers who hauled goods last night were taken away; what terrible luck…"

If South Luo Drum Lane No. 95 Courtyard learned of this news, they'd probably be startled again, grateful that Li Ping'an, the "Broom Star," had already slipped away.

In the Yue Lai Inn, Li Ping'an stood by the window, watching the eastern sky still tinged with red, his face expressionless. The distant clamor drifted faintly. He retreated into the room, quickly rolled up the small bundle that hadn't even been opened, and went downstairs to settle the bill.

The workers were still yawning and ranting about the port explosion; no one noticed the silent, reticent Henan laborer had left.

Li Ping'an didn't look for another inn. He slipped into a quieter back alley, found a deserted corner of a ruined courtyard, and slipped into the space.

Inside the space it remained just as tranquil, as if a different world from the chaos outside. The newly added "possessions"—ginseng, gold ingots, old artifacts—were silently piled in a corner.

He crouched by the Spiritual Spring, splashed water on his face, and his mind raced.

"Fusang Maru"'s explosion was so loud it caused a huge commotion. Ordinary resistance groups lack both the ability and the nerve. Miyamoto Musashi, that old Japanese soldier, as cunning as a monkey, who suffered a setback in Beiping, will surely be able to combine the two matters and ponder them.

"Evil Ghost" has run to Tianjin—he can definitely guess.

That old fellow is probably already on the road to Tianjin. In this region, he can't linger any longer.

Next stop, where to run?

Place names flickered through his mind like a movie. Suddenly, fragmented memories from a past life clicked together—the dust‑covered, terrifying news reports, the blurry yet chilling human experiments in black‑and‑white films, the massive structure nicknamed "Demon Cave" built in the icy wasteland…

"731 Unit, biological warfare, live‑human experiments." Each term he mulled over sent a chill from his heart outward, followed by an uncontainable fire. Those beasts in white coats—what they did was…

Yes, head to Dongbei! To Harbin! Even if we can't reach its old lair, we must bomb it to pieces! Let those beastly doctors' tormented souls pay the price!

The plan was set, his gaze sharpened instantly.

But before leaving Tianjin, they still had to carry out an even harsher operation. The Japanese soldiers had entrenched themselves in Tianjin for years, surely stockpiling a massive warehouse of supplies for the front lines and even their hometowns.

Find it. If it can be emptied, leave not a single grain behind! If it can't be moved, burn it to the ground with a blaze! Give Miyamoto Musashi and his pursuers a "lively" farewell gift!

He inhaled deeply, feeling his blood burn restlessly. This path was destined to be walked on a knife's edge, but he had no choice.

Emerging from the space, he slipped back into the streets of the Tianjin Guard like an ordinary passerby, but his eyes were already scouting a new target—the warehouse area guarded by heavy Japanese troops. This time, he would make the fire burn even brighter.