Chapter 258: Mission

The sheer number of cats—over one hundred thousand—was staggering. Just getting them all back to Shanghai took a monumental effort.

Attack helicopters were out of the question, so they had to rely on the portal. It took a full half-hour before the teleportation was finally complete.

With so many hungry mouths to feed, Zhang Wenda could work himself to death doing missions every day and still never feed them all on his meager subsidy.

Fortunately, the Black Cats weren't helpless. As soon as they returned, he immediately pointed them toward a clear path to self-reliance.

Soon, people on the beach saw a giant submarine with cat ears out in the water, dragging a black net as it scooped up fish from the sea.

The sea was teeming with fish—more than enough to feed them all.

As for Song Jianguo, she was on the beach, one foot planted in the sand, swaggering like a captain as she commanded the cats in the sea.

Zhang Wenda glanced over at her, then turned to Hu Maomao. "Keep an eye on her for me. Don't let her get close. I need to have a serious talk with Old Tan about her mother."

"Alright, you go. Leave things here to me."

'My own situation is grim, but I can't see a solution for it at the moment. Tang Xingxiong's case is more important right now.'

He desperately needed to know what had really happened twelve years ago. This time, it wasn't that Tan Yougen had schemed against him... but this situation was somehow even worse.

He had the sinking feeling of being caught in a conspiracy. If he didn't get to the bottom of it, he might find he was already trapped in one of Old Tan's plots.

"You're looking for Old Tan?" the one-armed Big Circle Leopard asked. "Then you go on ahead. I'll find him tonight. It'll be ugly otherwise." With that, he turned and started walking toward downtown Shanghai.

"Is your arm alright?"

"It's nothing," the Big Circle Leopard said nonchalantly. He pulled out a Big Circle cigarette and, with a flick of his finger, stuck the yellow filter in his mouth.

When Zhang Wenda arrived at Tan Yougen's office, he found the secretary had already opened the door, as if they were expecting his return.

Zhang Wenda had just stepped inside and was about to speak when Tan Yougen cut him off. "Where is it?"

"What?"

"The thing Tang Xingxiong gave you. She gave it to you, didn't she?" Tan Yougen's expression was perfectly composed, as if he already knew everything.

Hearing this, Zhang Wenda slammed his hands on the desk and leaned forward, his eyes locked on the man opposite him.

"First, you tell me what the hell is going on! Did you already know who Song Jianguo was? Is this all part of your plan?!"

Just then, a hand pressed down on Zhang Wenda's shoulder, forcing him into a nearby armchair. "Don't lose your head."

Zhang Wenda turned his head to see Ouyang Shuangdian walking up from behind him. She wasn't alone; she was followed by a bald old man and an old woman with white hair.

He'd seen the bald man once before, but not the old woman. Their demeanors were markedly different, but both carried themselves like people in high positions of power.

"Kid, this is extremely important. Now is not the time to be stubborn. Just give us the item first. I give you my word, we will explain everything to you afterward."

Hearing Ouyang Shuangdian's words, Zhang Wenda frowned and said irritably, "Tang Xingxiong recited a string of numbers before she died. It was too long, I didn't memorize it."

"What?!" The old woman was so shocked her mouth fell open, and her dentures popped right out.

Ouyang Shuangdian picked up the dentures and handed them back to the woman. "Stop playing games," she said to Zhang Wenda. "It's too crucial. I don't believe for a second that you didn't memorize it."

Zhang Wenda shot her a look, then plucked a key from between his eyebrows. He used it to open a door on the adjacent wall—a door leading into his own mind—and stepped right through.

A few minutes later, he returned and tossed a glass-like object, which was still emitting sounds, onto Tan Yougen's desk. "I pulled the memory fragment from my Hippocampus. If you can't remember it from this, then I really can't help you."

All business now, Tan Yougen ignored him and quickly began transcribing Tang Xingxiong's words from the memory fragment.

But Zhang Wenda noticed something. Tang Xingxiong had clearly recited only one string of numbers, yet Old Tan was writing down four different 28-digit numbers. It seemed that her tone, expression, and the cadence of her speech also contained information.

And that wasn't all. Zhang Wenda saw that even after the memory fragment faded away, Tan Yougen didn't stop writing. He continued to transcribe still more numbers.

There were only four coded sequences from Tang Xingxiong. This proved that he had obtained intelligence from other sources as well, not just her.

As for whether this other intelligence came from deep-cover agents planted twelve years ago, just like Tang Xingxiong, he had no way of knowing.

Everyone else in the room, aside from Zhang Wenda, was clearly fixated on the densely packed numbers on the sheet of paper, their expressions grave.

"My part is done," Zhang Wenda's voice cut through the silence in the office. "So are you going to tell me what the hell is going on now?"

Tan Yougen looked up from the paper, took a deep breath, and calmly sized up Zhang Wenda. "What is it you want to know?"

"What do I want to know? I want to know what the hell is going on! What's on this paper? What was Tang Xingxiong's so-called intelligence?! Stop talking in riddles!"

"This is their business. It has nothing to do with you, so why are you so caught up in it? Knowing about it won't necessarily do you any good. In fact, it might even bring you harm."

SLAM! An enraged Zhang Wenda slammed his fist into Tan Yougen's desk, leaving a crater. The sound was so loud that a squad of guards, on high alert, burst in through the door.

"Get out." At Tan Yougen's command, the leader—a man with the head of a mechanical dog—gave a sharp salute and quickly led his subordinates away.

As the door closed once more, Tan Yougen spoke to Zhang Wenda again. "I'm not refusing you. I'm warning you. Some things are better left unknown for your own good. Once you know certain things, there's no going back."

Seeing the resolute look in Zhang Wenda's eyes, Tan Yougen knew that just talking wouldn't be enough to dissuade the young man. "Fine. Ask your questions."

"What did you send Tang Xingxiong to do twelve years ago?"

"To find something." Tan Yougen leaned back slightly, settling into his chair.

"What thing?" Zhang Wenda leaned in slightly, his brow furrowed.

"How to put this... The situation is rather complex. You're aware that the birth of the Tide of Thought was the fault of Bureau 749, correct?"

"I've heard." Zhang Wenda nodded.

"And have you heard any other explanations?" Tan Yougen glanced at his two old colleagues, who were still staring intently at the paper covered in numbers.