Chapter 856

"Here, here, watch your step!"

The back kitchen is smaller than the front shop, piled with stainless steel stoves, oil drums, and seasoning racks. An old-fashioned range hood buzzes overhead, its noise so loud it seems about to fall.

The boss pulled over two plastic stools and leaned against the stove.

An elderly woman entered through the side door of the back kitchen, her hair gray-white, wearing a bleached-white apron, holding a teapot in her hands. She set the teapot on the table, didn't leave, and sat down beside us.

"This is Ruan Mu," the boss introduced briefly.

The elderly woman looked at Uesugi Muneyuki, her gaze from the light holding no hostility, only a weary assessment worn smooth by life.

Uesugi Muneyuki called out in the local dialect, "Yim!" Her lips twitched slightly, thinking, Where did this Japanese devil come from, speaking our local language?

Actually, by the third or even fourth generation here, no matter how hard they try, many younger ones can only understand but not speak it. Being able to speak German at home and reply in Japanese is already considered quite good.

The boss spoke up.

"Cao Liangming is a leader of the Yi Gang. Back then, the gang leader valued him most, handing over all his port business to him. He knew many people and understood many things. That night, he was on the ship. Public Security Police were also on the ship, and we discovered he was actually that Public Security Police informant."

The elderly woman interjected beside them, her voice hoarse yet calm.

"The Yi Gang lost many people. The gang leader, the vice leader, over a dozen brothers. Gunfights, explosions, then police dragnets. We collapsed from that day on. Survivors scattered, some went to jail. Only a few old-timers remain, guarding these broken shops, barely able to pay rent."

"Traitor! Shameless traitor!" Several people nearby could no longer hold back.

"The boss treated him so well! Who would have thought he was a Public Security informant!"

"All three leaders are dead! Dead!!! All because of him!"

"What else do you Japanese devils want to know? Yes, we are a violent group! But don't you have violent groups too?"

"We were bullied all day back then—we were just trying to survive!"

Among them, some younger ones already had tears welling in their eyes.

These were their fathers, uncles, elder brothers.

"Enough!!!" the elderly woman roared: "You've had enough, haven't you? Last time it was like this, this time it's like this? Now it's no longer the era of violent groups! Do you really want to destroy us now too?"

These people said nothing more.

Yeah, it's no longer the era of violent groups now—now violent groups are complaining about Japan's highway ETC rollout, canceling cash tolls, yet they can't get bank cards, so they can only petition, saying no cash is unconstitutional.

Uesugi Muneyuki's fingers paused on his knee.

He had noticed a key point.

"The Yi weren't the first to come ask about this matter, were they, police?"

The boss and the elderly woman exchanged a glance.

The elderly woman set down her teacup, her gaze shifting from Uesugi Muneyuki's face to Date Nagamune's, then back again, as if considering whether to speak.

In the end, they decided to speak, because everyone knows what matter prompted Uesugi Muneyuki to act—it's already very serious.

"A few months ago, two people also came by. Not from Shu coming over, but one Shu individual coming. The first person came and asked where Cao Liangming was. The Yi said they didn't know. He didn't press further, sat for a Shu moment, then left. The second person came a few days ago, asking not just about Cao Liangming, but whether anyone else was alive on the ship that night. The Yi said no. He didn't believe it, but couldn't do anything."

A few months ago, two people also came by. It wasn't Shu Qi, it was Shu Ge. When the first one came, he asked where Cao Liangming was. I said I didn't know. He didn't press further, sat for a moment, then left. When the second one came a few days ago, he didn't just ask about Cao Liangming—he asked whether anyone else was still alive on the ship that night. I said no. He didn't believe me, but there was nothing he could do.

The elderly woman thought for a moment.

"The first was probably in his forties, short hair, thick neck, walked with his back straight as a board—like a soldier. The second was somewhat younger, around thirty, with a similar bearing. Their way of speaking didn't sound like police, more like they were carrying out some mission."

The first was probably in his forties, with very short hair and a thick neck; when he walked, he held his back straight, like a soldier. The second was a bit younger, in his thirties, with a similar bearing. Their way of speaking didn't sound like police—more like they were carrying out some mission.

Uesugi Muneyuki's heartbeat accelerated at that moment.

Former Self-Defense Forces personnel, comrades of Konodo Fumihiko. They had already been here before Yaegaki Tetsuya.

The elderly woman suddenly lowered her voice, as if sharing a secret not meant for outsiders.

"When they left, a local stood at the door—Yifa from the neighboring shop. Yifa later told me she overheard those two talking at the door. One said, 'The Secretary of State's schedule—this bridge connecting Tokyo to Kanagawa is key.' The other said, 'Timing is everything—I return to Tokyo this afternoon, and the bridge is most suitable then.' Yifa didn't understand what they were saying, nor did she pay attention. Only later did I realize something was off."

As they were leaving, a local stood at the door—Yifa from the shop next door. Yifa later told me he overheard the two talking at the doorway. One said, the Secretary of State's itinerary, the bridge connecting Tokyo to Kanagawa is the key point. The other said, timing must be precise; when he returns to Tokyo this afternoon, that's the most suitable moment on the bridge. Yifa didn't understand what they were saying, nor did he pay attention. Only later did I recall it and feel something was off.

Uesugi Muneyuki's pupils contracted violently at that moment.

The great bridge connecting Tokyo to Kanagawa on the route to the Yokosuka U. S. Military Base?!

The U. S. Secretary of State is precisely returning to Tokyo this afternoon!

He sprang to his feet, the plastic stool flying backward with a crash. Date Nagamune had already reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, screen lit.

He sprang to his feet, the plastic stool tipping backward with a loud crash. Date Nagamune had already slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out his mobile phone, the screen glowing.

The boss and elderly woman were startled by his sudden movement.

The elderly woman frowned, thinking back: "Yifa said they said 'xia wu'—that just means afternoon."

She also explained in Japanese to Date Nagamune.

She also explained it to Date Nagamune in Japanese.

Wait!

Afternoon?!

The U. S. Secretary of State is currently visiting Yokosuka U. S. Military Base, and after finishing, returning to Tokyo via Kanagawa Prefecture's major bridge—couldn't that be this afternoon?

Uesugi Muneyuki glanced at the clock on the wall.

The hands pointed to 1:47.

"West Mata!!!"

Uesugi Muneyuki immediately turned and rushed toward the door, Date Nagamune following behind.

The two burst through the back kitchen door, passed through the front shop, pushed open the glass door, the wind chime violently shaken, falling to the ground with a crisp sound, shattering.

Both simultaneously pulled out their phones.

"Public Security, deploy armored vehicles! Net them all! Immediately arrest this gang of former Self-Defense Forces lunatics!"

"Minami, bad news—the U. S. Secretary of State is in danger! Immediately take control of all bridges from Kanagawa to Tokyo!"

Date Nagamune gritted his teeth: "You damned rebels, just wait till I come clean you up!!!"

Date Nagamune ground his teeth: "You rebel scum, just wait for me to take care of you guys!!!"

Tama River Bridge, connecting Kawasaki City and Yokohama City, is an important passage of National Route 357 crossing the Tama River. It is not the longest bridge in Tokyo Bay, nor the highest or widest, but it has an irreplaceable feature: official motorcades returning from the Yokosuka US Military Base to within Tokyo Metropolis almost inevitably choose this route. There are no traffic lights, no intersections, no pedestrian crossings, it is a four-lane dual carriageway, with solid concrete barriers on both sides, and the bridge surface is over six hundred meters long. The motorcade's travel time on the bridge does not exceed forty seconds.

Forty seconds.

Enough.

—

They came at noon.

Two dark-colored panel vans, one stopped at the temporary parking area at the entrance to the north end ramp, the other stopped behind the gas station at the south end.

The vehicles carried the same explosives, detonation devices, steel balls, and themselves.

Seven people, former Self-Defense Force members, aged from their thirties to over fifty.

The team leader is Gawa Toshiki, forty-five years old, former Third Rank Ground Self-Defense Officer of the Japan Ground Self-Defense Force.

After retirement, he opened a security company in Tokyo, appearing as a normal business operation on the surface, but in reality, he has been preparing for this day all along. He wears a dark blue work jacket, a baseball cap, and stands in the shadow behind the gas station at the south end, with his mobile phone screen displaying real-time traffic information in front of him.

The motorcade of the United States Secretary of State departed from Yokosuka Base twenty minutes ago, and at normal speed, it will pass through Tama River Bridge in about thirty minutes.

Beside him stands a young man, in his thirties, with a buzz cut, the muscle lines on his neck clearly visible in the sunlight. He is Miura, Gawa's subordinate from his Self-Defense Force days, who has continued to follow him since retirement.

"Captain, everything is ready."

Gawa pulled something out of his pocket.

A white headscarf.

He pulled the headscarf out of the bag, unfolded it, folded it, and then tied it onto his forehead. The cloth is old, with some fraying at the edges. It was equipment issued to him during wilderness survival training in the Self-Defense Force, preserved for over twenty years, accompanying him through training, through those sleepless nights, and bringing him to today.

The few people beside him saw his action of tying the headscarf and began to do the same.

Miura raised his head and looked at Gawa: "Captain, you say, are we doing the right thing?"

"Failure equals rebellion. Success equals revolution. History is written by the victors. We do not need to know right from wrong, only need to know that we are doing it. Not just talking about it, but actually doing it. Proving with action that this country still has people willing to die for it!"

The few former Self-Defense Officers fell silent, and then endless hot blood burned in their chests!

Someone pulled out an amulet from their pocket, someone silently lowered their head and closed their eyes, someone reached into their clothing and touched their own medal of honor. No one spoke. There was no impassioned speech, no stirring slogan, no one added any unnecessary annotation to what they were doing at this moment.

Everyone was dealing with the string stretched to its limit in their own way.

"Loyalty!!! Sincerity!!!"