When he woke up, Zhang Jingchuan became a small translator in the Shanghai Concession in 1937.
No money, no guns, no background, and the only golden finger left me speechless.
Zhang Jingchuan originally refused.
Until he discovered that what this system gave was not useless rewards, but top-secret information that the enemy least wanted to leak.
So the style of painting completely changed.
On the surface, he treated enemy generals, worked for the Japanese, and rose through the ranks.
Secretly, he used intelligence, poached, and set traps to trick a group of little devils into doubting their lives.
The most ridiculous thing is that the more he digs himself into death, the more his opponent thinks he is a rare loyal minister.
