Chapter 218: The Start of War (Part 2)
Rationally, officials were opposed to meeting these refugees’ demands, but out of practical considerations, they had to open a small loophole. Even with quotas in place, astonishing numbers were issued—nearly fifty British passports per day on average. Many of the Chinese staff and lower-ranking British officials handling these applications were quickly corrupted by huge sums of money and issued permits without restraint.
According to the British, this was to allow Chinese dissidents opposing the Black Flag Army to carry out legitimate political activities in overseas colonies and to raise funds for the Anglo-Japanese allied forces. Yet despite being clever, those who received passports couldn’t utter a word about the Black Flag Army’s political goals.
Regardless, some people reaped huge benefits from this. Among them, the most profitable was Kenzo Shirai. As a top spy running a spy network across Vietnam and southern China, he received tens of thousands of yen per month. Now, he was in big trouble. He was striving to build the spy network he envisioned, reporting to Tokyo that it included hundreds of military personnel, businessmen, government officials, and so on. This network was almost the only and most reliable source of first-hand intelligence on the Black Flag Army, and the Japanese government relied entirely on his high-quality, costly intelligence. For this, he had received hundreds of thousands of yen in funding over a dozen times. Especially after the Black Flag Army entered Guangdong, his demand for intelligence grew even greater, like that of a traveler in the desert—his superiors never questioned where the money went.
But Kenzo Shirai became increasingly desperate. He knew full well that aside from himself and a few unreliable, rumor-based sources, the entire spy network was essentially his imagination. The more money he got, the more problematic it became. He was now at a point where he might have to flee at any moment. Then, the countless Chinese officers, soldiers, and refugees fleeing from Guangzhou to Kowloon gave him hope. Like a believer seeing Christ’s revelation, he gathered a few hastily recruited assistants and moved around Bao’an and Kowloon. Soon, he found himself at a dead end—only to discover a new path ahead.
His original plan was to organize a small armed force to carry out sabotage behind the Black Flag Army’s lines. For this, he applied for 50,000 yen in funding. Then, like a wolf among sheep, he thrived in his role. Since the British issued only a limited number of passports, Japan could step in to help. He had a special relationship with the Japanese consul in Hong Kong and even had many blank Japanese passports. To facilitate his sabotage operations, the Japanese military command in Hong Kong agreed to let him act recklessly. “Acting recklessly” meant doing anything illegal without restraint. When he ran out of passports, he printed his own and stamped them with his own seal—all to organize a force to operate behind enemy lines against the Black Flag Army.
The British issued up to a hundred passports per day to Chinese politicians, but Kenzō Shirai was able to issue as many as five hundred. A large number of refugees, who knew nothing about the Black Flag Army, Liu Yu, or world politics, began applying to become Japanese citizens. Then, taking advantage of the good relations between Britain and Japan, they directly acquired British citizenship. Decades later, history spoke highly of Shirai’s actions: “We must make it clear that the eighty thousand Chinese people who acquired British citizenship during the war were not opposed to the Black Flag Army or had any other political motives; they simply sought a better life. It turned out they had found gold, and because of his friendship toward China, Mr. Shirai was regarded by the Black Flag Army leaders as an old friend of the Chinese people…” But Shirai found that he had inadvertently organized what could be called a “backward support team for China.” Since everything revolved around money, he gathered around him a large crowd of opportunists. He could portray this crowd as a group of elites, a true Chinese elite class—comprising former Chinese soldiers, officials, merchants, as well as farmers, shopkeepers, and even some deserters from the Black Flag Army and Qing forces. Their ability to gather rumors was first-rate; although they couldn’t provide high-quality intelligence, Shirai’s vivid imagination came in handy. He wasn’t aware that, as a time traveler, he had certain advantages. The Japanese already had other sources of intelligence in mainland China—dozens of top-notch Japanese spies in Wuhan, operating under the guise of merchants, which later became one of the main sources of intelligence for the Japanese during the First Sino-Japanese War. The problem was that, as a time traveler, Liu Yu had read some books on the history of Sino-Japanese espionage, and as a result, these Japanese spies were caught off guard. The Black Flag Army used the clues they found to destroy Japan’s intelligence network in the interior. After such a severe blow, Shirai’s intelligence network became indispensable, especially after he gathered so many Chinese elites, making it even more crucial. Japanese troops stationed in Hong Kong sent several officers to investigate Shirai’s organization, and they confirmed that he had indeed gathered a large number of high-ranking Chinese officers, officials, and businessmen, and that he could easily mobilize thousands of men with guns. They weren’t aware that Shirai had certain strengths—although he couldn’t win over the Black Flag Army officers, he successfully brought them over by offering money and incentives, along with a special allowance of 150,000 yen. He succeeded! Now, the Japanese troops in Hong Kong believed they had a thorough understanding of the Black Flag Army. With the troops currently available, the Japanese had nearly one entire brigade, while the British-Indian forces had a little over three infantry brigades, with more reinforcements on the way. The Black Flag Army in Guangdong only had the nominal strength of four brigades, each infantry brigade’s combat effectiveness equivalent to one Japanese infantry regiment. In addition, tens of thousands of Qing troops in Kowloon were ready to assist in the counterattack.
The only thing that prevented them from sending troops was the stance of the Qing government; after all, the Japanese army would not rashly risk sacrificing itself for the Anglo-Japanese alliance before gaining tangible benefits. However, on January 8th, a telegram finally convinced the Japanese to take action. Faced with the current crisis, the Qing government had agreed to allow Japan to send troops to defend Taiwan, recognize Korea as a Japanese protectorate, and grant Japan full rights in southern Manchuria, among other things.