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Chapter 088 Letter from Manchuria (please ask for the moon)

 Cheng Qianfan looked at the course schedule carefully.

The courses offered in this special training class in Hangzhou include:

Agent technology, intelligence operations, and scientific investigation methods are all 65 hours.

Foreign Languages, 78 hours, including Japanese, English, German and Russian, students can choose electives according to their needs.

Political training, 39 hours.

Firearms shooting, 78 hours.

Automotive Science, 16 hours.

Car driving, 65 hours.

Photography, 78 hours.

The counterfeiting method and the capturing method are both 78 hours long.

In addition, there are group meetings, commemorative weeks, etc., all of which last for 13 hours.

Although Cheng Qianfan had learned agent skills from Comrade "Zhulin" when he was in Special Branch, he was still extremely surprised when he looked at the dense curriculum.

Compared with the tutorials of the Special Branch, the courses of the Secret Service are obviously more professional, divided into categories, and more detailed.

"This is a normal course arrangement." Zhao Yansheng said, "You are now in a special training class, and the class hours will be compressed to a certain extent. However, during the assessment, the standards will not be lowered because of the compressed class hours, but will only become more stringent.

"

"Brother, you have worked hard." Zhao Yansheng smiled and patted Cheng Qianfan on the shoulder.

Cheng Qianfan nodded, his eyes seemed to be radiating light.

The duration of the special training class is less than one-third of that of the normal class. To successfully 'graduate', it is necessary to make efforts that ordinary people cannot imagine.

However, Cheng Qianfan is not afraid of difficulties, but is looking forward to it. This is a rare opportunity to improve himself.

Thinking that he could improve himself through the system of the Kuomintang Secret Service and professional studies, he felt a sense of expectation and joy that could not be described in words.



He was calculating silently in his mind.

He is already proficient in Japanese, English and Russian.

For foreign language courses, he chose to take German as an elective.

As for firearms shooting, he had excellent grades when he was at the Central Army Military Academy.

He has to study other courses, especially professional courses such as intelligence operations and scientific investigation law. He has actually mastered some of them when he was in Special Branch.

However, Cheng Qianfan reminded himself that in such a professional course, he must behave more low-key and must not show that he has mastered it.

Judging from his resume, his excellent performance in foreign languages ​​and firearms shooting is quite reasonable and there will be no flaws.

However, if professional agent skills have a good foundation, this will obviously be a doubtful point.

He can show talent and make rapid progress in learning.

This is what he needs to be careful about. Talent and foundation are completely different concepts.



That afternoon, Cheng Qianfan appeared in the special training class for the first time.

There are not many students taking German as an elective, only about ten students.

In the special training class, the most popular elective among students is Japanese.

German instructor Huo Shuying is a middle-aged woman who is very temperamental, refreshing and capable.

She was surprised to find that this ordinary-looking new student in the classroom could actually keep up with her teaching progress.

Even his spoken German pronunciation is better than that of many students who have studied for more than 20 hours.

"Cheng Wufang, have you studied German before?"

"I have been studying on my own for a while, and I only know a little bit about it." Cheng Qianfan replied, "Teacher, you still teach well."

He did not say that he knew English or French, and learning German in the same language family would get twice the result with half the effort.

Cheng Qianfan always keeps in mind that these classmates are the biggest hidden danger for him in the future. The less others know about him, the greater his chance of survival.

Huo Shuying nodded and agreed with this explanation.



"Cheng Wufang, come here." Firearms instructor Wan Delong glanced at Cheng Qianfan with a smile on his lips.

When arresting Kawada Nagakichi, he witnessed Cheng Wufang's short rifle marksmanship.

Therefore, what was handed to Cheng Wufang was not a Mauser pistol, but a medium-grade rifle.

Long guns and short guns are completely different. If you can shoot well with a short gun, you may not be able to shoot well with a long gun.

Wan Delong clasped his hands behind his back, boy, you have fallen into my hands.

The recoil of medium and formal rifles is extremely large. For novices, the strong recoil will make them very uncomfortable.

Bah!

Bah!

Bah!

Watching Cheng Qianfan skillfully shoot, pull the bolt, and shoot again, repeating the process.

Very stable.

"9 rings, 9 rings, 10 rings, 10 rings, 9 rings..." the voice of target reporting came from far away, "ten shots hit, average 9.6 rings."

hiss!

Wandelong gritted his teeth.

What kind of monster is this kid? A short gun can hit the head with one shot from more than ten meters away, but the long gun can also shoot stably and accurately!

All the students looked at this new classmate with expressions of surprise.

"Could this guy be from the military?" Some whispered.

"Even in the army, there are not many people who can have such marksmanship." Someone shook his head and said.

This new classmate is quite mysterious.

"Delong, how is Cheng Wufang's performance?" Yu Pingan, accompanied by Zhao Yansheng, came to inspect and asked.

"Deputy Director Yu, is this guy from the military?" Wan Delong asked in a low voice.

Yu Ping'an smiled and said nothing. He reviewed Cheng Qianfan's grades in the infantry department of the Central Army Officers' School. He had a first-class distinction in firearms shooting.

Cheng Qianfan looked at the Czech light machine gun in his hand with gentle eyes. He hadn't been intimate with this old guy for a long time.

Da da da.

"Deputy Director Yu, I think Cheng Wufang has graduated in firearms shooting." Wan Delong glanced at Cheng Qianfan, who was happily shooting, and said with a wry smile, "This kid is just wasting bullets by taking firearms classes."

He often scolds students for wasting bullets, but this 'wasting bullets' is not the other 'wasting bullets'.

"That's fine." Yu Ping'an nodded. Cheng Qianfan joined the class. The course was already tense, so it would be best if he could spend more time on other courses.

"Deputy Director Yu, can you transfer this kid to my staff?" Wan Delong became happier the more he looked at Cheng Qianfan.

Yu Ping'an glanced at Wandelong and ignored him.

In this way, Cheng Qianfan took a firearms class and graduated early.



A few days later.

Changchun, and Xinjing, the ‘capital’ of the Puppet Manchukuo.

Imai Tai put down the whip in his hand as the Puppet Manchukuo Guards soldiers looked complicated and hid their anger in their eyes.

"Lock him up and not allow him to eat for three days."

"Yes!" An officer smiled flatteringly, nodded and bowed.

The rest of the soldiers were angry but dared not speak out. Xiao Shuanzi's father was ill, so the boy went home privately. When he returned to the camp, he was caught by Imai Tai, a cruel instructor.

If he simply broke a whip and then locked him up without being allowed to eat, how could little Shuanzi still be alive?

A few hours later, Segawa Tavern.

A very drunk Imai walked out with his arms around a woman who was forcing a smile.

"Mr. Imai."

Imai raised his head subconsciously.

boom!

The gunfire rang out, startling the crowd.

In the chaos, a man in a trench coat quickly disappeared into the crowd, passed by a cesspit, threw the Mauser pistol in his hand, turned into another alley, and disappeared into the night.

Early the next morning.

Shanghai, French Concession, Yandli.

Cheng Qianfan’s residence.

A postman slipped a letter from Xinjing, Manchukuo, through the crack in the door...


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