Chapter Sixty-Six: Stirring the Four Corners

Of course, Ning Zhiheng wasn't naïve enough to think that Xie Ziming would confess so easily. But that didn't matter—the severe torture to follow would force him to reveal what Ning wanted. He turned to Jiang Wende and said, “Alright, now it's your turn, Captain Jiang. Give our guest the proper reception!”

With that, he returned to his seat, silent, patiently waiting to see what methods Jiang Wende and Zhang Ping would employ.

This time, Jiang Wende and Zhang Ping dared not resort to brutal torture right away as they had before. They were well aware of Ning Zhiheng's temperament. Though young, he was ruthless and utterly indifferent to cruel interrogation methods. Even if someone were beaten to death in front of him, he probably wouldn't bat an eye.

Jiang Wende signaled to Zhang Ping to begin. Zhang Ping ordered the men to lift Shimazu Hiroshi's legs and lay them flat on a bench, tying his knees down with rope. Then, brick after brick was wedged under his heels.

This torture, commonly known as the “Tiger Bench,” was excruciating. The knees, fixed atop the bench, were forced upwards as the heels were gradually raised by the stacked bricks. Eventually, the reverse pressure would cause the knees to break. Sometimes, the victim would faint from the unbearable pain, and in severe cases, they could be crippled. However, since there were no external wounds, infection was avoided and the victim's life was not at risk.

One brick.
Two bricks.

More than twenty minutes passed. Shimazu Hiroshi felt as if his knees were being torn apart, his muscles and ligaments seared with pain. He gritted his teeth, refusing to utter a sound, while beads of sweat dripped down his face.

Ning Zhiheng was growing impatient. He urged Jiang Wende, “Why waste time? I want a confession as soon as possible. The tools you used last time were effective—get on with it and break him quickly!”

Jiang Wende’s face tightened. Damn it! He knew this bastard was no easy character—just like last time, all he cared about was getting a confession, never mind if the prisoner lived or died.

The interrogation had barely begun, and this cold-blooded man already wanted to cripple the prisoner! Jiang Wende couldn’t just follow his reckless lead; he had to be more restrained.

Ironically, most people overseeing interrogations always warned their men not to go too far and kill the prisoner. But with Ning Zhiheng, Jiang Wende was determined not to go mad with him, lest he get blamed for any mishap.

But Ning Zhiheng's patience was limited. He had to extract information from Xie Ziming quickly, before Cui Hai’s disappearance attracted the attention of the Tokkō’s headquarters. They could alert the Shadow Group through broadcast frequencies at any time.

He needed to force the names of the members from Xie Ziming before that happened. Besides, he wasn’t afraid if the prisoner died under torture. If that happened, he’d search his memories directly and extract whatever he could—better that than letting the man stall for time and end up with nothing.

Seeing Jiang Wende hesitate, Ning Zhiheng strode forward, grabbed a branding iron from the brazier, and prepared to deal with Shimazu Hiroshi himself.

Zhang Ping, in the middle of administering punishment, saw Ning Zhiheng about to escalate but dared not intervene directly. He looked to Jiang Wende, silently asking what to do.

Jiang Wende, seeing Ning Zhiheng’s urgency, didn’t dare oppose him outright. After all, he couldn’t afford to offend such a privileged officer.

“Captain Ning, don’t rush. Leave this rough work to us. But if something goes wrong with the prisoner, you’ll have to take some responsibility for us!” Jiang Wende said.

“Captain Jiang, since when has your Interrogation Division become a bunch of softhearted monks? Let’s be honest—how many corpses have you carried out of here this past year? Let me remind you, if we can’t get a confession from this prisoner, we’re all in trouble. Don’t try to brush me off—I won’t fall for it,” Ning Zhiheng replied coldly.

He paid them no mind. Seeing Zhang Ping step between them and Jiang Wende starting to back down, he didn’t push further. After all, he had no desire to get his own hands bloody.

Under Ning Zhiheng’s prodding, Jiang Wende and Zhang Ping began using harsher methods on Shimazu Hiroshi.

Long iron spikes were driven beneath his fingernails, one by one. The agony was indescribable, eliciting continuous, wretched screams. The red-hot branding iron seared his flesh, skin splitting and burning, the stench of scorched flesh filling the interrogation room.

This time, Ning Zhiheng felt none of the shock he’d experienced before. He watched, unmoved, his mind focused solely on the confession—he needed answers, and quickly.

Soon, Shimazu Hiroshi fainted for the second time. Zhang Ping was about to douse him with a basin of cold water.

At that moment, the door to the interrogation room suddenly opened and Wei Liangbi strode in. Ning Zhiheng was about to speak, but Wei Liangbi gave him a look, signaling him to remain silent.

Wei Liangbi stepped aside, standing at attention. Then, three men entered.

Leading them was Zhao Ziliang, Chief of the Operations Division, and Ning Zhiheng’s immediate superior. Over the past two months, Ning had only seen him once—at Cui Guohao’s promotion banquet, when Zhao Ziliang had been invited to attend.

The two men behind him were strangers, but their colonel’s insignia suggested they held positions on par with Zhao Ziliang.

“Is this Xie Ziming?” Zhao Ziliang ignored everyone else, focusing directly on the unconscious Shimazu Hiroshi.

“Yes, this is Xie Ziming!” Ning Zhiheng immediately responded, recognizing Zhao Ziliang’s address as directed at him. He stood at attention and answered promptly.

Only then did Zhao Ziliang glance at Ning Zhiheng, recalling him. This young man had only recently joined Military Intelligence, but he’d performed exceptionally well, somehow catching the director’s eye and earning a rapid promotion to lieutenant in just over a month.

Though a junior officer’s promotion was a minor matter to Zhao, it was enough for him to remember Ning.

What Zhao didn’t know was that Ning wasn’t merely favored by the director; he was the principal hero of the Huang Xiansheng case. Through a quiet deal, the case had been handed to the Intelligence Division, and only a handful of people knew the details—all of whom had benefited and kept silent.

“How is the interrogation going?” Zhao Ziliang asked.

“Chief, the interrogation has just begun. The prisoner hasn’t said a word yet, but please rest assured, I will pry open his mouth as soon as possible,” Ning Zhiheng replied loudly.

At this, one of the colonels beside Zhao Ziliang could no longer contain himself upon hearing the interrogation had just started. He quickly said to Zhao Ziliang, “Chief Zhao, this is a matter of great importance and should be handed over to our Intelligence Division for interrogation. We have the experience and nothing will go wrong.”

“Chief Gu, if your division is so experienced, why didn’t you catch Xie Ziming yourselves? It was our rough-and-ready Operations Division that caught the Japanese spy, and we even seized his radio and codebook. Looks like your experience wasn’t worth much!” sneered another colonel, Vice Chief Xiang Yan of the Operations Division, his words laced with sarcasm.

Gu Zhengqi, Chief of Intelligence, flushed at Xiang Yan’s words and retorted, “Vice Chief Xiang, before we left, the director ordered that this case be jointly handled by the Intelligence and Operations Divisions. Are you planning to defy the director’s orders?”

Zhao Ziliang’s brows shot up, and he replied curtly, “You’re to assist our Operations Division, Chief Gu. Our standing practice is that whoever catches the case handles it. Snatching credit midway is against protocol!”

In fact, both Zhao Ziliang and Gu Zhengqi were from the director’s faction, though Gu was more favored. This was evident from the relative statuses of the Intelligence and Operations Divisions within Military Intelligence.

The Intelligence Division was the premier department, with the greatest resources and authority to requisition support from other divisions at will. Naturally, its standing far exceeded that of the Operations Division.

This rankled Zhao Ziliang, who longed to outdo Gu Zhengqi. But the Operations Division, being the field unit, was little more than muscle, with few chances to distinguish itself. As a result, Gu had always overshadowed him.

He never expected such an opportunity to fall into his lap. When Wei Liangbi reported the capture of the radio and codebook, Zhao could hardly believe his luck. His men, known for their brute force, had managed to outwit the enemy and capture a major Japanese agent newly arrived in Nanjing—along with the radio and codebook!

The director had once emphasized that anyone who seized a Japanese military codebook would be commended to headquarters and receive special honors.

This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. After hearing Wei Liangbi’s report, Zhao Ziliang immediately reported to the director.

The director, upon hearing the news while at a military meeting, was delighted and praised Zhao Ziliang highly. He immediately ordered that, given the gravity of the case, it be investigated jointly by the Intelligence and Operations Divisions—and that he himself was hurrying back to Military Intelligence to closely supervise its progress.

This both pleased and irritated Zhao Ziliang. He was glad to shine before the director and receive praise, but also annoyed that the director still placed greater trust in the Intelligence Division, breaking precedent to let them intervene—showing just how seriously he took the case.

And Gu Zhengqi, like a cat who’d smelled fish, rushed over as soon as he received the director’s orders.

“Chief Zhao, you misunderstand!” Gu said quickly, “You and your men made the arrest, so of course you’re in charge. I, for one, would never break the rules. I’m only concerned that your men lack interrogation experience. If you delay the case and let a Japanese spy slip away, that would be a grave error! Look at the state of the prisoner after just one hour of your handiwork—if you continue like this, I doubt he’ll survive the night. Since this case is a joint operation, any mistake will reflect on us both!”

He could hardly believe the luck of the Operations Division, normally just his assistants—yet now, they’d not only captured the agent and his radio, but, most importantly, the Japanese military codebook. Such a major achievement couldn’t be allowed to slip away—he had to secure a share, or he’d never sleep easy!