Chapter 8: This Bastard!
He’d been here for over half a year, but tonight was the first time he’d killed. On one hand, it was because he wanted to lay low; on the other, he wasn’t without fear of killing.
He wasn’t born bad, nor was he a killing maniac. Before transmigration, he was just an honest man who, under strict law, had barely even fought with anyone a few times.
Before transmigration, forget killing—not even fighting had happened since junior high.
If he didn’t know that unless he took out these three tonight, he’d probably be dragged off to claim military merit, he wouldn’t have resolved to kill them.
But for some reason, after killing the little devil, deep in his heart it seemed his bloodline awakened, eager to try killing more little devils.
“Killing isn’t as terrifying as I imagined. If there’s a chance, I’ll kill a few more devils to try.” Suppressing his restless heart, Cao Weida forced himself to close his eyes and sleep.
He’d originally wanted to search the little devil’s body, but thinking it over, it was still too disgusting—after all, this was where he slept.
Besides, making the floor a mess of blood again wouldn’t be good.
The next morning early, no need for alarm clocks or rooster crows—various vendor calls had already spread through the streets and alleys.
“Sweet water, Jade Spring Mountain sweet water! Sirs drink and grin wide, ladies drink and delight inside!! Sweet water!! Delicious sweet water!”
“Water seller, come, give me some.” While washing up, unable to stand the bitter taste in his mouth, Cao Weida immediately opened the door and called to the water-selling big brother.
“Sir, may you prosper!” Hearing the call, the water-selling big brother smiled broadly and bowed, “How much do you want?”
“Is this spring water or tap water?”
“Sir, this is all spring water I fetched early from Jade Spring Mountain—guaranteed sweet!”
Water sellers distinguish spring water and tap water; tap water is easier to fetch, but the quality is average.
Spring water is troublesome to fetch, but it’s clear, cool, sweet to the taste, and time- and effort-intensive, so the price is naturally higher.
“Alright, two buckets, pour them into my jar.” Cao Weida pointed to the water jar in the corner of his house—this was something every household basically had.
“Right away, sir!” The sturdy water-selling big brother grinned and swiftly picked up the two water buckets to get busy.
“Man, that’s luxurious.” Duomen, who had gotten up with toiletries, watched the water seller, hesitating whether to get some himself.
Though used to bitter well water, who wanted to suffer daily when sweet water was available?
“Hey, it’s not much money—having extra won’t make you rich, lacking it won’t starve you.” Cao Weida didn’t want to stand out, but he wasn’t a masochist either.
Who didn’t want to enjoy a bit?
“That makes sense.” Duomen thought about it and figured it was right.
Besides, with good grain just gotten last night, boiling it in bitter water would be too wasteful, so he also paid for two buckets.
The water-selling big brother was thrilled, grinning ear to ear.
“Here, four buckets total, no change needed.” Cao Weida tossed over a fifty-cent silver dollar.
“Thanks for the reward, sir!” The water-selling big brother hurriedly thanked him, thinking today was off to a great start.
“Master Duo, Cao Ye, morning—buying water?” San’er, towel over his shoulder, opened his door.
“Morning, Third Brother.” Cao Weida replied. There were plenty called San’er—one in the courtyard, one at the bureau. In these times, duplicate names were a dime a dozen: San’er, Dog Egg, Zhao Di, and such.
Duomen asked puzzledly, “San’er, what’s wrong? You don’t look happy. Something happen?”
“Hey, don’t ask—yesterday was a total waste.” San’er’s face fell, shaking his head helplessly.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s that funeral stick, the heartless bastard.” Before San’er could speak, his wife came out, angrily saying:
“Yesterday you patrolmen searched the whole city, and that heartless funeral stick extorted all the money my man earned yesterday—not giving it meant arrest.”
“What can us common people do? We had to give it!”
“Master Duo, you judge— we already gave the monthly respect money, and he pulls this? Does he want us dead?”
Duomen frowned, but then sighed helplessly and comforted, “Third Sister-in-law, forget it, just consider it wealth lost to avert disaster. That’s how he is—endure it and it’ll pass.”
Cao Weida also said, “Third Sister-in-law, that funeral stick is so heartless, he’ll get his reckoning sooner or later.”
Funeral stick, real name Sang Liuji, patrol captain of the Outer Second District police station, same rank as Duomen.
He was a gambler, heartless too—extortion and blackmail, strong-arm robbery, utterly vile. No wonder the funeral stick nickname.
“Right, retribution soon! That bastard!” Third Sister-in-law muttered curses softly, not even daring to raise her voice.
As the saying goes, the people don’t fight officials. Funeral stick was just a lowly patrol captain, but not someone common folk like them could offend.
Bullied was bullied—besides cursing behind his back, what could they do?
Cao Weida shook his head inwardly. By the normal course, Sang Liuji wouldn’t be executed by firing squad until after liberation.
So what about the people he’d bully these years?
Sure, Sang Liuji got executed after liberation, but these years he’d lived plush.
Gambling at the casino, women on tap, strutting daily.
Where’d the money come from?
Squeezed from families he ruined!
He always believed one principle: delayed justice isn’t justice!
Forget it—if opportunity came, he’d kill this scourge. If not, he wouldn’t force it.
He wasn’t some white lotus; there were too many suffering in the world for him to manage.
“Men, let’s head out.”
Washed up, Duomen called out. Cao Weida answered, and the two, in their odd police uniforms, went out the door.
“Today we’ll probably search again—who knows when it’ll end.” At the police station roll call, seeing Bureau Chief Xu Hancheng there again meant the searches would continue.
“Whatever, search if we must.” Cao Weida didn’t care; he’d already planned.
Eyes scanning around, seeking his target.
Spotting a little devil in military uniform, his eyes lit up. He dashed over, “Master Duo, wait here. Got something, back soon.”
“Officer Ono, Officer Ono!”
Ono Shiota heard his name, stopped, and looked puzzled at the approaching Cao Weida.
“Who are you? What do you want.” Ono Shiota’s Chinese was quite good—still a bit stiff, but far better than most little devils.
Cao Weida didn’t answer directly, glancing around, “Officer Ono, I’m Cao Weida, a patrolman at the police station. I want to discuss something with you. How about we find a quiet spot to chat?”
Ono Shiota eyed him, then nodded and led to a corner.
A mere patrolman seeking a private chat with him? He was curious.
In the corner, Ono Shiota said woodenly, “Can say now?”
“Officer Ono, I hear you’re from Osaka?”
Ono Shiota raised a brow, “Looks like Cao Sang did his homework—even this you found out.”
“But what does that have to do with you finding me?”
It did, of course!
Who in later generations didn’t know you Osaka folk valued business over people!
That Osaka Division—rumored to sell out even the Emperor for the right price!
Sure, exaggeration aside, it said something.
“Officer Ono, straight to the point: I want to be friends with you.”
Hearing “friends,” Ono Shiota’s eyes lit up, then narrowed interestedly, sizing up Cao Weida.
“Cao Sang, sure you didn’t mistake? A Chinese person wanting to befriend a soldier of the Great Japanese Empire?”
Cao Weida stayed calm, smiling, “Officer Ono, we Chinese have an old saying: more friends, more paths. Make friends aplenty, enemies few—that way the road ahead is broader.”
“We Chinese are generous. Coming to befriend you, I bring sincerity.”
Unobtrusively slipping a gold bar into the other’s hand, Ono Shiota glanced and his eyes showed greed.
For an Osaka man, nothing was more endearing than gold bars.
A light toss, and he knew this gold bar was real.
Pocketing it smoothly, Ono Shiota’s smile widened, “Yōshi, Cao Sang, I accept you as a friend!”
“But Cao Sang surely wants more than just friendship. Speak plainly—no beating around the bush. I like straight talk.”
Cao Weida’s smile grew too: “Officer Ono’s a straightforward man, so I won’t hold back.”
“A friend of mine was taken to Gendarmerie Headquarters two nights ago to assist investigation—he still hasn’t returned. Could you help call and get him home soon? His wife’s worried sick.”
“Rest assured, once he’s back, I’ll have a reward ready.”
Gendarmerie Headquarters?
Ono Shiota pondered, then asked, “He has no ties to resistance, right?”
Cao Weida assured, “Of course not. Not to make you laugh, but he’s from Bada Hutong—didn’t even know why he was grabbed.”
“We’re all good citizens, scraping by under Imperial Army leadership. How’d we dare oppose the Imperial Army, right?”
“What’s his name.”
“Sun Dahu.”
“Wait while I make a telephone call.” Ono Shiota wouldn’t take one side’s word; he went to the office, made a call, while Cao Weida waited outside.
Soon, relaxed-faced Ono Shiota emerged, smiling, “Confirmed: Sun Dahu was indeed asked by Gendarmerie Headquarters to assist investigation. Preliminary suspicions cleared—he should be home before noon.”
“Oh, truly thanks so much.”
“Don’t rush—this wasn’t just me. It went smooth thanks to Captain Fujita at Gendarmerie Headquarters. You get me.”
“Got it, of course. Rest assured, Officer Fujita won’t miss out!”
As long as he could save the man with extra money, Little Ear would absolutely accept.
Worst was having money but nowhere to spend it—that was real trouble.
“Cao Sang, any other friends asked for investigation? Need me to inquire?” Rare moneymaking chance—Ono Shiota didn’t want to stop.
Cao Weida grinned—this was the effect he wanted.
“Officer Ono.”
Ono Shiota feigned displeasure: “Cao Sang, too formal. You said we’re friends—calling me officer makes us strangers?”
“Yes, yes—Shiota-kun.” Cao Weida climbed aboard.
