Under One Person: The Sea Emperor Who Shattered Heaven and Earth

The streets of Tokyo remain bustling.

The neon lights of Ginza shone blindingly in this era. Pedestrians hurried by, men in impeccably tailored suits, women in kimonos or fashionable Western-style long skirts. In izakayas, people talked about luxury goods, complained about the tyranny of American soldiers on the streets, and drank glass after glass of cheap shochu.

No one knew that death was already at their doorstep.

Right at the entrance of Tokyo’s busiest station, a group of men dressed in black casual clothes walked through the crowd.

The leader was tall, with the collar of his black trench coat slightly turned up, obscuring his chin. He carried a Guan Dao (a type of halberd) on his back. His eyes were calm, but when he swept over each passerby, they sent chills down one's spine.

Jiang Zhen.

He was followed by fewer than twenty people. After Jiang Zhen eliminated the main military force, Zhao Yuan, Bai Fu, Feng Wuye and others stayed in Kyushu to oversee the war. He was accompanied by some people who were fluent in Japanese, and they were the first to step into the heart of Japan.

The group was quite conspicuous walking down the street, but in Tokyo, where various forces were mixed together, passersby simply assumed they were some out-of-town yakuza gang and walked away without giving them a second glance.

"Boss, where are we going now? Straight to that Prime Minister's residence?"

“It’s too far, walking there would be a waste of time.” Jiang Zhen looked around and pointed to several black cars parked on the side of the street. “Let’s call a few cars.”

A man from the canal gang immediately strode to the roadside and hailed a taxi. Several taxis waiting for passengers pulled up at the same time. The drivers, who were initially impatient, glanced at the group—they had a sinister air about them, but their clothes were of excellent quality, and the leader exuded the air of a big shot—and their faces immediately lit up with smiles.

"Where are you going, gentlemen?" the lead driver asked with a fawning smile, his eyes gleaming. Taxis in Japan are ridiculously expensive, so picking up a group of passengers like this meant a hefty fare.

"Go to Shinjuku, the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building," the man said coldly.

The driver was taken aback for a moment, then beamed with joy: "Oh dear, that's quite a journey! Please get in, please get in!"

Jiang Zhen sat in the back seat of the middle car.

The driver was very talkative. As he started the car, he looked Jiang Zhen up and down in the rearview mirror: "Sir, you're from out of town, aren't you? Your accent doesn't sound like you're from Tokyo."

Jiang Zhen leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes to rest, and ignored the driver.

One of them said, "Drive faster, we're in a hurry."

"Alright, hold on tight!"

However, the car slowed down after less than twenty minutes and got stuck in the traffic jam.

The driver turned around somewhat awkwardly: "I'm so sorry, gentlemen. It's rush hour right now, and this is the most congested area. There seems to be a minor collision ahead, and nobody is giving way, so there's a bit of a traffic jam."

One of the gang members frowned: "How long will this blockade last?"

"Judging by this, we won't be able to move for at least an hour." The driver sighed, taking one hand off the steering wheel to light a cigarette. "That's how it is in Tokyo. The roads are narrow, there are lots of cars, and even if you're in a hurry, you have to queue. How about... you guys have a smoke and rest in the car for a bit?"

Jiang Zhen opened his eyes.

He turned his head and looked out the car window.

Jiang Zhen pointed to the sidewalk, which was bustling with people but empty of cars, and asked in a calm tone:

"Isn't it spacious there?"

The driver was stunned, then gave a dry laugh.

"Sir, you must be joking."

"That's a sidewalk..."

Chapter 97 Jiang Zhen has already entered Tokyo

Several taxis on the road suddenly turned around without warning.

The screeching sound of rubber rubbing against each other echoed along the edge of a busy sidewalk in Shinjuku. Amid the horrified gazes of pedestrians and vendors, the vehicles, like out-of-control beasts, hurtled straight into the dense crowd.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

A series of dull thuds echoed. A body was lifted by the bumper and slammed onto the roof of the car, rolling down and overturning a vendor's cart behind it. In less than a hundred meters, the once gleaming black front of the car was stained crimson with splattered blood.

The screams tore through the air of Tokyo's afternoon.

"Murder—!"

"Help! Scatter!"

The bustling street instantly transformed into a living hell. Pedestrians scattered like ants in a swarm, and those who fell were immediately trampled underfoot. Newspaper stands and fruit racks along the roadside were smashed to pieces, fruit scattered all over the ground, mingling with blood and flowing across the cobblestones.

Several traffic officers directing traffic at the intersection were completely stunned. In Tokyo, even the most ruthless yakuza organizations wouldn't dare to openly and indiscriminately charge through the city center. This was beyond their understanding of any criminal act.

"Baka! Stop! Stop right now!"

Several traffic officers frantically blew their whistles, mounted the motorcycles next to them, and waved their white gloves wildly while pulling out megaphones from their waists and shouting at the top of their lungs at the lead vehicle.

"The vehicles ahead, turn off your engines and stop immediately! You have violated the rules..."

The traffic officer swerved his motorcycle to the side of a taxi and was about to pull out his baton to smash the car window.

Just then, the car window slowly rolled down a crack.

A jet-black gun barrel, gleaming with a cold metallic sheen, emerged.

"boom!"

A short, deadly gunshot rang out.

The bullet pierced his helmet precisely. Red and white liquid splattered onto the glass door of the nearby shop, trickling down the frame.

The motorcycle, dragging the body, wobbled and sped off, crashing into a nearby electronics store. With a deafening roar, the store window shattered into a waterfall of glass, and the motorcycle's fuel tank burst into flames, engulfing half the store in orange-red fire.

The remaining Tokyo police officers, who were trying to maintain order, all stood frozen in place.

Their minds were reeling. In Japan at that time, gun control was extremely strict, and ordinary traffic police officers were only equipped with batons. This gunshot shattered their professional illusions—this was not a traffic accident, nor a simple gang shootout.

These are extremely dangerous individuals who are organized, premeditated, and possess powerful firearms!

"Shooting! It's shooting!"

"Calling for backup from the Metropolitan Police Department! There's an armed attack here—!"

Whistles and screams mingled together. The taxis with their dark red hoods neither sped away nor stopped, but continued forward at a leisurely pace, heading straight for the Shinjuku Metropolitan Government Building.

Meanwhile, in Nagata-cho, at the Prime Minister's official residence.

The smoke in the conference room was so thick that it was impossible to open one's eyes.

"Can't we talk?" Prime Minister Koiso's eyes were bloodshot as she stared intently at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs official in front of her.

"Your Excellency, we can't see anyone at all." The official was covered in sweat, his voice trembling with tears. "Our representatives were stopped by a group of people carrying machetes and guns before they even got close. Those who were slow to get away, none of them came back."

He wiped the sweat from his face, his fingers trembling so much he could barely hold his briefcase: “They don’t listen to any diplomatic language at all. Our men didn’t even have a chance to utter the word ‘negotiation’ before they were swatted back like flies—no, like flies being chopped down.”

Koji slammed his hand on the table: "Where is Jiang Zhen? Doesn't he consider himself the leader of the Grand Canal Gang? Doesn't he know what he's doing? He's waging war against the entire civilized world at the same time!"

"Jiang Zhen himself...didn't even show up at the negotiation point." The official's voice was almost a wail. "Nagasaki is now entirely under the command of a man named Master Feng. He only gave one sentence—'The debt isn't collected, even if the King of Heaven himself comes, we won't talk.'"

A deathly silence fell over the meeting room.

Faced with such extreme violence, all political means and diplomatic skills seem as ridiculous as children's games.

A bespectacled cabinet member stood up, his eyes revealing a ruthless, desperate resolve: "Prime Minister, since we can't negotiate, we have no choice but to fight. We cannot stand by and watch Kyushu be wiped out inch by inch. Nagasaki is finished, and Sasebo will soon follow. If we don't retaliate, the dignity of the Orient will be completely lost."

"Fight? With what?" the chief asked in return.

"There's no other way. We need to bring out the three secret infantry regiments we've hidden in the mountains, along with the local garrisons and those civilian organizations that haven't been disbanded yet."

An old general stood up, a faint glimmer of light flashing in his cloudy eyes. "Although we may be at a disadvantage against Jiang Zhen himself, his main force is only tens of thousands. We have the advantage of fighting on home soil. As long as we keep the war within Kyushu and hold our ground using the terrain, we might be able to drag it out until they are willing to negotiate."

"Yes! We must wage war in Kyushu!" another minister pounded the table excitedly. "As long as the war doesn't escalate to our own province, we still have room to maneuver. Afterwards, we can appeal to the United Nations and to the United States—this is an illegal invasion by the Chinese militia! At that time, we can not only demand the withdrawal of our troops, but also demand exorbitant reparations from the Chinese nation!"

Driven by a combination of extreme anxiety and wishful thinking, the resolution was passed by the cabinet at an astonishing speed.

All instructions were sent to Kyushu via secret telegram: regardless of the cost, annihilate the armed forces that landed in Nagasaki.

Prime Minister Koiso let out a long sigh of relief, and was about to pour himself a cup of tea to calm his turbulent emotions when the conference room door was suddenly flung open.

The Superintendent General of Police, responsible for security and intelligence surveillance in Tokyo, stumbled in. His hat was nowhere to be seen, his face was covered in sweat, and his eyes held a near-collapse-like terror that no one present had ever seen before.

"Prime Minister... Your Excellency Prime Minister! Something terrible has happened!"

Koiso frowned, a sense of foreboding rising in her heart: "Tell me slowly, has the war started in Kyushu?"

"No...not Kyushu!" The Superintendent General pointed outside, his voice shrill like a rooster being strangled. "It's Shinjuku! An hour ago, the Metropolitan Police Department received an emergency report from the streets of Shinjuku: several taxi drivers carried out a massacre on the sidewalk and publicly shot and killed traffic police officers who tried to stop them!"

"Insolence!" the Foreign Minister roared. "Is it necessary to report such a security case to the Cabinet at this time?!"

"No...look at this!"

The Superintendent General of Police, his hands trembling, pulled a stack of freshly developed black-and-white photographs from his pocket. They were blurry images captured by several surveillance cameras set up on the streets of Shinjuku.

Since Jiang Zhen did not deliberately hide his whereabouts, his face is clearly visible in one of the photos.

He sat in the back of the taxi, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Even through the blurry particles, his chilling, almost indifferent aura sent a shiver down everyone's spine, from the soles of their feet to the top of their heads.

“Jiang Zhen…”

Prime Minister Koiso felt a buzzing in her head, and she slumped back into her chair, her teacup falling onto the tatami mat, splashing water everywhere.

"Isn't he in Kyushu? Shouldn't he be in Nagasaki commanding his army of ten thousand?"

“According to…according to CCTV footage along the route and feedback from the traffic department,” the Superintendent General swallowed hard, “he entered Tokyo alone with a dozen or so trusted men. He wasn’t with his main force at all!”

"Where is he now?" the Prime Minister asked in a hoarse voice.

“Judging from his current direction of travel…” The Superintendent General pointed to a red line on the map, his finger trembling violently, “He’s heading towards the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building in Shinjuku, less than two blocks from here!”

The air in the conference room froze instantly.

In their minds, Jiang Zhen, as the leader, would naturally be stationed in the central command, steadily advancing under the protection of the main force. How could a general set up his command post at the very front line?

But they forgot that Jiang Zhen was not an ordinary general; he was an extraordinary person with nuclear-level combat power.

He doesn't need to wait for the slow advance of the main force; he can go alone and, in the enemy's most prosperous and seemingly safest heartland, directly rip out their beating heart.

"He's insane...he really is insane..."

Jiang Zhen has already arrived in Beijing.

……

Several black taxis came to a steady stop in front of the Shinjuku Metropolitan Government Building.

The bloodstains on the side of the car had dried and turned dark red, a shocking sight.

The bloodstains on the side of the car had dried and congealed into a dull rust color, dripping down the gap below the door in several thin streaks.

The surrounding crowd had long since fled. An eerie silence hung over the street—only the distant, frantic sound of police sirens echoed, growing louder and closer. A large number of armed police officers were gathering in this direction, and the screeching sound of armored vehicles from the Self-Defense Forces crushing the asphalt could be heard in the distance.