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墨書 Inktalez
Lin Feng had been working at the Wang Wei Secret Service Agency for several days. On the surface, he completed his translation tasks diligently every day, mingling among the agents with a humble and courteous demeanor. Gradually, he earned the recognition of some colleagues and established a foothold in this den of danger. However, every quiet night, when he found himself alone in his room gazing out at the city swallowed by darkness, an overwhelming longing for his organization surged within him, along with an intense desire to complete his mission and dispel the shadows.
One day after work, Lin Feng received a special invitation to an internal gathering of agents. He understood that while such gatherings appeared to be opportunities for colleagues to bond and relax, they were actually fraught with hidden agendas—a perfect chance for various factions to test each other and gather intelligence. A single misstep or careless word could lead to dire consequences. Yet, Lin Feng did not hesitate; he knew that danger and opportunity coexisted. If he could navigate this situation wisely, it might yield valuable information for his organization.
The venue for the gathering was a high-end restaurant called Drunken Moon Pavilion, a popular haunt for Wang Wei's elite. With the establishment reserved for the agents' meeting, security was particularly tight. At the entrance stood several burly bodyguards, scanning each arriving guest with vigilant eyes. Lin Feng adjusted his suit, took a deep breath, and stepped into the restaurant.
Upon entering the private room, he was greeted by swirling smoke and the heavy scent of alcohol. Groups of agents sat together in animated discussions or whispered quietly in pairs, their eyes glinting with shrewdness and calculation. As Lin Feng walked in, a few familiar agents rose to greet him. He smiled and responded politely, seamlessly integrating himself into the gathering.
As the drinks flowed, the atmosphere at the table grew increasingly intense and strange. Initially, conversations revolved around lighthearted topics—romantic escapades and amusing street anecdotes—tinged with a hint of drunkenness but still cautious. However, as alcohol continued to fuel their bravado, some scheming traitors began to steer the conversation toward work.
"Things have been quite unsettled in the city lately; I hear the Underground Party is stirring again. We need to be careful," said a shifty-eyed agent, cigarette in hand, squinting as he scanned the faces around him for any signs of reaction.
"That's right; higher-ups are pushing us hard to patrol more diligently. But those Underground Party folks are elusive; it's not easy to track them down," another agent chimed in, feigning a sigh of frustration while secretly observing everyone’s responses.
Lin Feng's heart raced at this information, but he maintained an air of indifference as he raised his glass and downed its contents. Pretending to be tipsy, he swayed slightly and slurred his words: "What’s there to fear? With so many of us here, how can a few Underground Party members turn things upside down? Come on, let’s drink!" He poured himself another drink, spilling some on the table.
The others regarded him with a mix of disdain and relief; some thought him merely a foolish drunkard unworthy of concern. Yet Lin Feng remained alert beneath his seemingly drunken facade, keenly listening for any useful information.
"Speaking of patrols," one lighter-hearted agent lowered his voice conspiratorially, "I’ve heard that recently the Japanese Officers have ramped up patrols in South City; there are several teams out every night checking continuously. If we have something going on, we should avoid that area."
Lin Feng's heart tightened; South City was indeed an important operational base for his organization. The Japanese Officers' actions posed significant risks to their comrades' activities. He mentally noted this intelligence and decided to take proactive measures to extract more information using his drunken act.
"What about North City? I was thinking of doing something there a few days ago," Lin Feng said with a hiccup, gazing vacantly at everyone.
"North City is relatively fine; most Japanese Officers have been reassigned to South City lately. It’s less tense up there but you never know when things might suddenly change," another agent casually remarked without realizing Lin Feng's intentions.
Lin Feng felt elated internally while continuing to feign drunkenness: "Oh really? Then we need to be clever from now on and avoid running into trouble."
As conversations flowed with each agent probing and revealing snippets of information, the door to the private room suddenly swung open. A Japanese Army officer strode in confidently. Instantly, all noise ceased as everyone stood up respectfully to salute the officer.
The officer surveyed the room with a stormy expression: "Gentlemen, we are in tumultuous times; the Underground Party is rampant. As capable assistants of the Imperial Army, you should not be indulging in revelry at such a critical moment."
Everyone lowered their heads in fear and silence. Lin Feng followed suit but was already calculating how to relay the intelligence he had just gathered.
After delivering his reprimand, the officer hurriedly left. The atmosphere in the room grew even more somber; no one felt inclined to continue drinking or chatting as they began to excuse themselves one by one.
Blending into the crowd as they exited the restaurant, Lin Feng pretended to stroll leisurely down the street before circling back several times until he confirmed no one was following him. He quickly slipped into a secluded corner where he retrieved a pre-prepared note from his shoe sole. Using a pencil he always carried with him, he briefly jotted down details about the patrol patterns of Japanese Officers in South and North City before hiding it in a crevice of an abandoned mailbox—a designated intelligence drop-off point agreed upon with his organization that would be checked daily by someone assigned.
After completing this task, Lin Feng let out a long breath as he gazed at the night sky and silently said: "Comrades, please be careful." Though darkness enveloped everything around him at that moment, he knew he had lit a faint yet precious beacon of hope for his organization. Moving forward, he would continue lurking within this dark enemy lair and engage in thrilling confrontations with adversaries until victory’s dawn illuminated the land.
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