Temporary Agent Abang \ Captain China English translation (1 Viewer)

Drizzt78

Master of this Domain
Joined
Mar 13, 2011
A legendary Chinese web novel that I've been obsessed with translating (via AI) for a while. Difficult both because of the content and also because there's a LOT of fan-fiction and fanart out there I wanted to include in the translation. Content warning (mostly for later chapters, the first one is kinda tame): female snuff, strangling, necrophilia, urination.

...

In June, Xiamen is blazing hot, and nightfall drags its feet, arriving like some high-society dame at a fancy ball, only stepping in with its long, trailing skirt after the scorching sun has had its fun. After a thunderstorm passed, the muggy heat and restless hearts finally settled. A gentle sea breeze swept away the lingering warmth from the ground, and the city that had bustled all day gradually fell silent. For a group of third-year graduate students in some corner of the city, it’s their last summer in school. In a few weeks, when the campus is aflame with blooming phoenix flowers, it'll be time to say goodbye.


Whoosh— a dart flies, sticking into the target hung behind the dormitory door. Sadly, it missed the bullseye just by a hair. Monkey jumps up excitedly, spitting out words with a thick Cantonese accent, “Tough luck, mate! All talk and no trousers, eh? Haha, you owe me a hundred bucks~”

Abang scratched his head. His luck tonight was truly terrible — he only scored a nine-ring on the last throw and lost the game at the final dart. With a glum face, he fishes a crumpled 100-yuan note from his pocket and grumbles, “Just you wait, Monkey. Consider this money in safekeeping with you. It’ll be back in my hands tomorrow.”

Monkey, money in hand, doesn't give a hoot about what Abang says. He tosses a towel over his shoulder and heads off to shower, humming a tune, all happy and content. Abang glances at his watch; it’s still half an hour until eleven, the time he agreed to meet with his advisor. Considering the walk there, it’s about time to head out. He picks out the least dirty shirt from his wardrobe, slips it on, leaves a few words for Monkey in the bathroom, grabs his thesis, and leaves the dorm.

His advisor is none other than Professor Zhao Xuefen, a leading figure in the field of biochemistry in China. For a scholar of her standing, she only has time to engage with her students after a busy day of research and administrative duties. So, for the past three years, Abang has gotten used to seeing her at this hour. With the thesis defense approaching, it’s crucial to have her review his paper and help him tighten up any loose ends.

The university campus at midnight was dead silent. Walking for twenty minutes, Abang found himself going uphill on a cobblestone road, spotting an isolated building not far ahead, looming against the sea—a relic from the days of the Republic. This was where Professor Zhao’s office was, tucked away in a rather secluded part of the campus. There were tales amongst students, stories handed down over generations, about this place once being a mass grave during the Japanese occupation, with countless dead tossed carelessly into it. Naturally, it had a creepy, chilling vibe. To add to this, a mass of clouds conveniently rolled over, covering the moonlight, casting a deeper shadow over the already dim surroundings. This unnerved Abang, prompting him to murmur a prayer under his breath and hasten his pace.

Inside the Jian Nan Building, which was all but deserted, every light in the hallway had been turned off except for a lone glow from a third-floor office—Professor Zhao’s. Familiar with the sight, Abang was ready to tiptoe his way upstairs when he noticed a silhouette on the stairway, a figure standing tall, seemingly even taller than him. This caught him off guard. However, it was the stranger who spoke first: “Don’t bother going up. Everyone’s gone.” The voice was feminine and authoritative.

“Oh, I know. But I have an appointment with Professor Zhao. She's waiting for me,” replied Abang, assuming she was the janitor, and proceeded to walk past her. But the shadowy figure blocked him with a hand, her tone stiffening. “Are you Professor Zhao’s student?”

“Uh, yeah! I’m Abang. I come here often around this time, okay?” He was getting annoyed. Fumbling with his phone, he turned it on to shine some light, expecting her to recognize him. With the screen’s glow, he saw clearly she wasn't any janitor but a young, ponytailed policewoman in her twenties. Fit and rather attractive. Abang's heart skipped a beat, saliva flowing a bit more freely as he eyed her from head to toe. The rolled-brim hat atop her ponytail, the sky-blue short-sleeve police shirt, the black skirt, and the regulation black women’s shoes with a bit of her calves was showing in between—she was wearing stockings. She held herself upright, a professional air about her. Though the uniform didn’t accentuate her slender waist and full figure, her brisk, lively demeanor had a unique charm. It's true what they say about a woman in uniform adding three points of charm.

Annoyed, she blocked the light with her hand. “What are you doing? Turn that off! You’re obstructing official business!” she snapped.

Angry himself, Abang was in no mood to argue. He attempted to shine the light on her badge, which only aggravated her further. Reacting fiercely, she knocked the phone out of his hand. Before he could register what was happening, he felt a blow to his face, blood dripping from his nose, pain forcing him to his knees. Then, the sound of heels clicking on the stairs announced the arrival of another figure, who impatiently instructed the policewoman: “You've been made. Finish him off!” The female voice was followed by the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked.

"Alright," said the ponytailed woman, reaching towards her waist. "Holy shit," exclaimed Abang, startled and instinctively lunging forward to grab at her holster, hugging her in the process. Amid the scuffle, a suppressed gunshot echoed in the stairwell, causing the policewoman in his arms to tremble violently. She seemed to be shot in the back, and without even drawing her gun, she groaned in pain. She stretched, standing on her tiptoes, her cheek almost touching Abang's nose, muscles in her face twisted in agony. The bullet had done its job, sucking the life out of her. With a thud of her heels, her body collapsed softly in Abang's arms, and the brimmed hat was tilted to the side of her head.

"Hey, don't die! Please, don’t die!" The sudden lack of breath in the ponytailed policewoman left Abang scared out of his wits. Supporting her under her arms, he used her body as a human shield against any further shots. In the blink of an eye, the unseen shooter fired several more rounds into the meat shield. The poor woman was subjected to a battering even in death. Abang noticed the gun at her waist, hastily drew it and fired blindly up the narrow stairwell. Sounds of bullets striking walls echoed back, along with the chaotic clacking of heels on the wooden floor. Probably he hadn't hit anything. Amid the tension, he heard a thudding sound, like a body tumbling down the stairs. A gunshot followed, along with a woman's shriek. A body landed at the bottom of the stairs, sprawled out with legs apart at Abang’s feet. He barely managed to lift her head, muttering something before going limp, lying still.

Abang finally got a good look at her, noticing she wore a uniform identical to the ponytailed woman's, except her hair was short. She lay there, disheveled, missing a shoe. He didn’t release his human shield, turning the woman on the ground over. The gun in her right hand was still aimed at her own abdomen, blood oozing from the bullet hole. The impact of Abang’s kick seemed to have stimulated her nerves, causing the dead body to twitch, frightening him even more. Soon, the body lay still again. The whole situation was baffling. It seemed he hadn’t hit her with his shots, but in just a short time, two policewomen were dead at his feet. He felt the weight of the body in his arms growing heavier and gently laid her down on top of the short-haired one.

With the aid of his phone light, he observed the two bodies lying haphazardly, limbs sprawled out carelessly. Blood dripped from their open mouths, their faces twisted in the agony of death, making a pitiable sight. Searching through their pockets, he found their police IDs. The ponytailed woman was named Lin Na, and the short-haired one, Ge Lin. Were they really cops? He was in big trouble now. Why did they shoot at him?

While pondering, his hand subconsciously squeezed the thigh of one of the bodies. The silk stocking felt smooth, the flesh beneath firm and tight, signs of a woman who had undergone rigorous training. It was a pity she had lost her life in this confusing melee. Then, he remembered Professor Zhao upstairs. With a feeling of impending dread, he rushed up, seeing a high heel embedded in the wooden floor of the second level. It must have belonged to the woman who rolled down the stairs. The sight, amidst the high tension, brought a smile to Abang's face. It seemed the policewoman had tried to avoid his gunfire, lost her footing, and accidentally shot herself while tumbling down.

With thoughts of Professor Zhao in his mind, he kicked the high heel aside, preparing to ascend to the third floor without regard for his safety.

In the darkness, as he was about to turn the corner to the third floor, another shadow – probably alerted by the noises below – was descending from above, and they collided. A waft of pleasant perfume hit his nose as they both stumbled back a few steps. Another woman's voice ordered, “Freeze!” The voice wasn’t Professor Zhao’s. Was it another cop wanting to shoot him? Abang didn’t have time to ponder; he had to save his skin. Falling to the ground, he scurried away on all fours like a rat, darting into a nearby laboratory.

Those damn clouds outside still obscured the moonlight. The lab was pitch black, and various chemicals on the lab tables emitted an unpleasant smell. From outside, the careful and quiet tapping of high heels approached, eventually making its way into the lab. Hiding under a table, Abang held his breath, his heartbeat accelerating, his gun-trembling hand betraying his fear. He tried to discern her position by the sound of her footsteps, but with his nonexistent shooting skills, he couldn't be sure of taking her down in this darkness.

He knew this lab like the back of his hand, navigating confidently even blindfolded. Sensing the woman entering, he crawled out and sneaked into the adjoining lab. He quickly grabbed four small jars from the table, each containing chemicals he knew well, and crouched behind a metal cabinet.

The intruder seemed to be wearing night-vision goggles, moving cautiously through the cluttered space with the light, haunting tap of her high heels. A beam of infrared light swept the room as she called out, “Police! Come out!” Abang, once bitten twice shy, stayed silent, burying himself even deeper in his hiding spot. Trembling, he began to mix potassium chlorate, magnesium powder, and aluminum powder in a 5:4:1 ratio.

“Come out. Why are you running from the police?” She must have assessed Abang’s skills and figured he was just a student caught in the crossfire. Trying to lure him out, she continued, “Come out, we received a report of a dangerous individual here. It’s unsafe. Come to the police.”

Abang, still unaware of the deceptive ways of the world, hesitated. Could she be a real cop? Maybe the two women downstairs mistook him for a criminal? Caught in uncertainty, he couldn’t help but utter, “Are you really a cop?”

The moment Abang made a sound, two bullets immediately hit his hiding spot, and the infrared beam zeroed in on the metal cabinet. The female assassin stopped pretending and fired at the cabinet while advancing. This close call woke Abang up—he almost fell for her trick! He heard her heels getting closer. In his anxiety, he spilled a lot of the chemical powder. Hastily scooping some back into the jar and adding a bit of sulfur, he thought, “Wait for the surprise!” With a flick of his wrist, he threw the glass jar past the cabinet, then buried his head in his arms.

As the assassin was focusing on the cabinet, she saw something fly out from behind it and instinctively shot it. An intense brightness filled the room, blinding her night-vision goggles. Taking advantage of the lingering light, Abang fired three silent shots from his handgun. Two hit the wall, but luckily one found its mark in the assassin's chest. With a cry, she dropped her gun, clutching her chest, and staggered back. Angry and worried about his poor aim, Abang kept pulling the trigger until the magazine was empty. The assassin instinctively covered her chest, as if she could stop the bullets. But her small body couldn’t withstand the impact, and a powerful shot sent her crashing onto a lab table, knocking over several jars. She didn’t die immediately; She struggled, arching her back like a snake, before collapsing onto the table with a sigh, her legs twitching a few times before hanging limp over the table's edge.

When he heard no more movement, Abang cautiously approached with his phone's light. To his horror, he saw a woman in a summer police uniform, her hands clutching her chest, lying half on the table, with her legs hanging off the side. Her small feet twitched a few times before becoming still. He laid her hands flat on the table and saw her blood-stained blue police shirt no longer rising and falling with breath. Although he shot wildly, only two bullets had hit – one in her belly, the other in her left chest, both fatal. It scared him to think he had taken lives, but curiosity drove him to see her face. He carefully removed her night-vision goggles and saw a face similar in age to his own, eyes staring blankly, mouth slightly open revealing half a tooth. She had a typical dead face, making him sigh in pity.

Abang found her ID in her pocket, bearing the name "Lin Jiayin". It looked legit but could have been bought for fifty yuan online, so it didn’t prove anything. He wiped his prints off the gun, placing it on her skirt and took her silenced pistol equipped with infrared aiming. He also put on her night-vision goggles and saw everything in the lab clearly. Smirking to himself, he thought, “This chick was well-equipped, but she’s on my turf now.”

After giving the corpse a little kick, he stepped out of the lab. He heard a dripping sound. Not understanding why, and not caring to investigate, he was sure the three women were impostors. As he was about to call the police, he heard soft voices on the third floor and worried for Professor Zhao.

Chapter Three

He hurried to the third floor, where the familiar office door was open, and a fluorescent light shone through. He heard a voice: “Professor Zhao... I’m from the city criminal investigation department... Chen Ye... please come with me...”

Upon hearing this, Abang was furious. Removing the night-vision goggles, he burst into the office, pointing his gun at Chen Ye and yelled, “Bullshit! Hands up! Professor Zhao, don’t trust her; she’s a fake!”

Chen Ye saw Abang dressed as a student, smiled, and calmly said, “Please calm down. I can show my ID...”

As she reached for her pocket, Abang, already on edge, thought she was reaching for a weapon and fired a shot at her head. The bullet hit a potted plant on the wall. Both Chen Ye and Professor Zhao were stunned. Chen Ye, trained assassin that she was, immediately took cover behind Professor Zhao while drawing her weapon. Abang fired again, this time hitting a family photo on the wall. In a flash, Chen Ye was holding Professor Zhao as a shield with her gun pointed at Abang. As she was about to fire, Professor Zhao grabbed her arm, causing her to shoot the floor instead. The two struggled, and Abang couldn't get a clear shot. Then he heard a sound, and Professor Zhao, shot in the chest, slid down but still held onto Chen Ye's gun.

With tears in his eyes, Abang shouted, “You’ll pay for this!” Abang’s gun spat out bullets in rapid-fire fury, but Chen Ye easily dodged, not a single bullet touching her. Who knows where those bullets ended up?

Chen Ye couldn't help but chuckle at the situation. She became more daring, tossing a phone from the table to distract him, then leapt toward Abang with surprising agility. He didn't expect her to move so fast in high heels. Before he knew it, she kicked his wrist, disarming him. He groaned as her heel dug into his stomach and then flinched as she hit him squarely on the shoulder with her shoe. He stumbled back, crashing into a glass coffee table which shattered under him, spilling tea cups, a box, and a fruit tray onto the floor.

Despite having some martial arts training from his dad, Abang had no real combat experience and was no match for this professional killer. Knowing he was outclassed in hand-to-hand combat, he scrambled to pick up a fruit knife to defend himself.

“Join your teacher!” Chen Ye snarled, moving in for the kill. As Abang found the knife and turned, she was already upon him. In his panic, he flailed his legs trying to scramble away. Suddenly, Chen Ye slipped on a piece of fruit Abang had kicked around, losing her balance and falling toward him.

Her 165cm tall, muscular body crashed down on Abang, pinning him underneath. Her soft belly was impaled precisely on the fruit knife. With a cry of agony, she convulsed violently on top of him, grinding against him, moaning and groaning with pain. Her hat had fallen off, and her hair spilled out, brushing against Abang’s face as she writhed. Their faces were only inches apart, and he could feel her breath getting weaker until it stopped, her lips trembling as if she wanted to curse him. After a few seconds of struggle, she went limp, her lips twitching one last time before falling against Abang’s forehead, giving him a final kiss, dead.

Still in shock, Abang pushed Chen Ye's body off of him. She landed on her back, her blue police uniform stained with blood centered around the knife handle, forming a large red flower. Blood pooled around her waist. The skilled assassin was now just a corpse soaked in blood.

"Professor Zhao!" Abang shouted, scrambling to his teacher’s side. Professor Zhao was bleeding heavily, a bullet wound in her chest, barely alive. Seeing Abang seemed to bring some relief to her pained expression. She tried to speak but only coughed up blood. Abang knelt beside his mentor, his hands trembling, not knowing where to put them. “Teacher… Teacher… sob… How… how did this happen? Look at me…”Professor Zhao looked at Abang, weakly lifting a finger to point at her pants pocket. Her lips moved as though she wanted to tell him something important, but after a few silent twitches, she breathed her last. With tears in his eyes, Abang reached into the professor's pocket and found a simple metal box containing a neatly folded piece of paper. It was just an ordinary sheet, filled with handwritten chemical equations. Some of them were from the research he'd been doing with the professor over the last three years, but most were beyond his comprehension. However, since the professor had entrusted it to him on her deathbed, it must be vital. He decided to keep it safe to hand over to the authorities later.

Abang put the metal box into his shirt pocket, taking one last look at the slain professor and the bodies of the four fake policewomen. Who knows how many more assassins lurked nearby? One thought dominated his mind: he needed to get out of this hellhole ASAP.

He checked the handgun, which was out of bullets, wiped it clean of fingerprints, and tossed it onto one of the female bodies. He couldn't resist copping a feel as he searched her pockets, finding another fake police ID with the name 'Chen Ye' on it, definitely not her real name. Considering his lousy aim, he decided to arm himself with the fruit knife he had used earlier, which felt more comfortable in his hands.

Moving stealthily and on high alert, he cautiously made his way down from the third floor. Thankfully, no more assassins appeared. Back on the first floor, the two bodies were still there, their hair moving slightly in the breeze, covering their faces. There was a faint smell of urine. Abang noticed wet patches on their skirts and a puddle on the floor. Realization dawned on him; they had wet themselves when they died. "Who were they? Why did they want to kill Professor Zhao? Was it all for that little metal box?" Abang thought rapidly. He patted one of the bodies and hurried out of the building, not wanting to spend another second in that place.

As he dragged his weary body towards his dorm, thoughts of calling the police crossed his mind. But with four out of five bodies connected to him, he could easily become a suspect with no way to prove his innocence. Let others find the bodies and report it, he decided. Abang took a few steps, glanced back at the building under the night sky, and shivered at its ominous appearance, breaking into a run.

He walked down the gently sloping, cobblestone road and turned into the straight Bo Xue Road. The night was windy, the trees on either side whispering, their branches shaking, causing the newly bloomed phoenix flowers to sway and drop their bright red petals on the road. There was no one around, only the moonlight quietly illuminating his path as Abang walked briskly, his footsteps echoing on the dark and deep Bo Xue Road.

"S-senior Abang~"

Suddenly, a sweet and clear voice rang out behind him.

"Huh?!" Already on edge, Abang nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound, screaming and whipping around. When he saw who it was, he let out a sigh of relief: "Geez, junior sis, you scared the life outta me. How come I didn't hear you coming?"


....


There's not much in the way of fan-art for the policegirl assassins:

Necro exploration version:
 

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