My absurd experiences in North America over the years

Los Angeles at four in the morning was a complete stranger to Qin Ming.

However, he was very familiar with Brooklyn, New York at four in the morning, and for several years he had been out and about at that time.

The street was quiet, and the dim light of the streetlights filtered through the sparse leaves and fell to the ground. A gentle breeze blew, and the light and shadows swayed back and forth on the ground with the branches and leaves.

Qin Ming leaned against the passenger seat of a dark-colored sedan, looking at the south-facing window on the third floor of the building across the street.

The curtains were drawn, letting in a very faint light, as if someone had a bedside lamp on inside.

This is an Asian community near the old town. Although it is called Asian, the vast majority are of Japanese descent, with only a small number of Chinese and Indians.

The passenger window of the dark sedan was half-open, and the night wind blew in through the crack, carrying the dampness unique to early summer mornings and the musty, rotten smell left behind by the passing garbage truck.

Qin Ming had already sent people to scout the location, and now he was just staring at the window, as if waiting for a signal.

Two young men in black short-sleeved shirts were sitting in the back seat of the car. They were each holding a pair of gloves and looked slightly tense, as if they were ready to put on the gloves and start their operation at any time.

A moment later, a long and a short light flashed by in the distance.

This is their code for action.

"The target is on the third floor, in the room with the south-facing window. There are two bedrooms inside. Besides the target, there are two attendants. Proceed according to plan." Qin Ming opened the door and got out of the car first.

Two subordinates followed closely behind. All three were dressed in black, wearing hoods and masks. They moved quickly, and even with community surveillance cameras, their faces were completely unrecognizable in the darkest hour before dawn.

Two subordinates each took a black tool bag. They went around to the back door through the fire escape on the side of the apartment building. One of them squatted down in front of the door lock, unzipped the tool bag, and took out a thin metal piece and a torque wrench.

This is a lock-picking expert; in just over ten seconds, the door clicked open.

The apartment building's corridors were dark, and the motion-sensor lights seemed to be slow to react.

Once inside, they walked slowly, stepping carefully on the edge of the steps near the base of the wall, where it was less likely to make a sound.

Qin Ming stopped at the door of the room at the end of the third-floor corridor. His subordinate used the lock-picking technique again, and the lock's spring made a slight clicking sound. Although the sound was very faint, it was still somewhat clear in the quiet corridor.

The door was pushed open silently. This place seemed to be a small two-bedroom apartment. The rooms were not much different from a studio apartment. The living room was right inside the entrance, with some cardboard boxes and miscellaneous items piled up.

There was a half-open door on the left, letting in warm yellow light.

Qin Ming and his two companions slipped into the living room and stood still in the darkness for a moment to steady their breathing and observe the situation.

This is theoretically the time when people are most tired during the day, and even those who like to stay up late should be asleep by this time.

Unfortunately, someone inside didn't seem to be fast asleep. Qin Ming heard someone turn over inside the half-open door, and the mattress springs made a slight creaking sound.

Qin Ming decided to act immediately, quickly pushed open the door, and slipped into the room.

The one tossing and turning, unable to sleep, was none other than Naoki Ohashi himself. Hearing the noise, he was about to sit up in bed when he reached for the bedside table, where a pistol was placed.

Qin Ming had already stepped over the threshold. His left arm quickly wrapped around his neck, his right hand covered his mouth, and he forcefully pressed him onto the bed. The mattress springs made a short creaking sound, and then fell completely silent.

Several muffled thuds came from the other side of the living room almost simultaneously.

Qin Ming's two men subdued Ohashi Naoki's two followers from another direction. Because it was a sudden encounter, the enemy was caught off guard, and the whole process was almost completely silent.

Naoki Ohashi's eyes were wide open in the darkness, staring at the indistinct figure.

Qin Ming wasn't in a hurry. He waited until the man's struggles weakened before coldly snorting and saying, "Don't be afraid. Everyone dies eventually. You're just dying thirty or forty years earlier."

Naoki Ohashi, who understood a little Chinese, immediately struggled violently upon hearing this, but it was all in vain.

His slender frame, less than 165cm tall, was no different from Qin Ming's ability to grab a chick; with just a little effort, Qin Ming immediately became breathless and couldn't catch his breath.

"Don't want to die? That's simple," Qin Ming relaxed slightly, letting him catch his breath. "Just write a sincere letter of repentance, and I'll let you leave alive, how about that?"

"You're dreaming," Naoki Ohashi retorted angrily. "You think I don't know that even if I write this, I'll still die, and you'll frame me for suicide... You'll never get anything you want from me."

Let alone whether he writes or not, he'll die anyway. In the eyes of an extreme right-winger like him, even if he could live, he wouldn't write.

"Stubborn fool," Qin Ming pressed his knee down on Naoki Ohashi, pulled out his pistol and fitted a silencer. "You think you can stop me by not writing it? Your social media accounts will still work. Tomorrow your letter of repentance will be posted all over the internet..."

Naoki Ohashi was instantly filled with despair, because he had been closely monitoring public opinion for the past few days, and his computer had hardly ever been turned off. It would be easy for the enemy to use their accounts to publish a letter of repentance.

Once he wrote a confession, he would be a "sinner" of the right wing. He struggled with this thought and wanted to put up a last-ditch resistance.

Qin Ming didn't give him any chance. He picked him up, slammed him to the ground, and shot him directly in the forehead.

Naoki Ohashi died with his eyes wide open, unable to close them in peace.

Qin Ming then picked up Naoki Ohashi's still-warm right hand and gripped the gun.

The initial framework of the suicide scene has been established.

He then went to the computer and, using pre-designed language, published a letter of repentance in Japanese.

In his letter of repentance, Naoki Ohashi wept bitterly, revealing that Japanese right-wing elements have spared no effort over the past few decades in trying to whitewash and distort the history of World War II through media and public opinion in North America, and have gone so far as to threaten and persecute many people in order to do so.

This includes Iris Chang, author of The Nanjing Massacre.

He "confessed" to his crimes and, ashamed, "committed suicide."

After Qin Ming finished his work, he came out of the bedroom. His subordinates had already tied up the two henchmen of Ohashi Naoki.

Making Naoki Ohashi die so easily was a last resort, but these two people cannot be let off so easily.

"Take them back. Aren't there some Koreans buying live Gundams at high prices lately?" Qin Ming instructed his subordinates. "Arrange for them to be sent there. Remember one thing: the price is negotiable, but they must pick them up without any trouble. Understand?"

"Okay, I'll get on it right now."

Two subordinates escorted Naoki Ohashi's entourage outside.

At this moment, another man in black entered through the door to clean up the mess, which is to say, "clean up the battlefield".

"This mission cannot afford any mistakes. You need to carefully arrange the scene. As long as there are no errors, the commission will be three times the usual amount," Qin Ming patted the man in black on the shoulder.

When doing work for a new customer for the first time, there must be absolutely no mistakes.