Chapter 057: The Sulfa Drug Was Also Leaked

Aoki Qiao took the passport, set down the suitcase, and gestured for Fujiwara Mio to put the clothes back in. Closing the suitcase, Aoki Qiao called out in Japanese for Fujiwara Mio to follow him. The junior military policeman remained rooted to the spot, his eyes lingering on the money on the table, then flicking to his superior. If he left empty-handed now, there’d be nothing left for him when he returned! The petty leader tossed two bundles to the junior, who finally grinned and led the two out.

Any problem that can be solved with money is not a real problem. If you wanted money, you should’ve said so! I wasted so much time wrestling with my conscience!

From the port checkpoint to the train station wasn't far. Aoki Qiao carried the suitcase, chatting casually in German with the junior policeman, subtly probing for recent updates on the situation in Germany. The economic crisis had hit Germany harder than he’d imagined: massive unemployment, public resentment toward the Weimar Republic, frequent protests and riots. The Abwehr military police now had to suppress unrest as well as hunt for spies and communists, all for low pay and exhausting work.

The German Communist Party—now that was important information! So, the Communists’ activities had already drawn the ire of the German federal government. Chaos was on the horizon. Wasn’t this the opportunity Little Mustache had been waiting for?

The train station was just as desolate. Aoki Qiao bought two tickets to Leverkusen. There was still an hour until departure. The military policeman, realizing there was nothing more to be gained, left them on their own.

Well, luck’s on your side this time. Waiting or not changes nothing—we really are heading to Leverkusen; that much was no lie.

After the tense ordeal, Fujiwara Mio was clearly tired; while waiting for the train, she leaned against Aoki Qiao and dozed off. Aoki Qiao, however, couldn’t sleep—not at such a time. His mind kept turning to that man: the one with the prominent nose, sharp facial features, and deep-set eyes. Who could he be? He was obviously on the same journey, but why had he glanced back at Fujiwara Mio? Had Mio given something away?

When it was time to board, Aoki Qiao gently woke Mio, and they lined up. Suddenly, Aoki Qiao spotted, in the next carriage over, that same prominent nose! The man, wearing a rolled-brim hat and carrying a suitcase, was boarding as well. He, too, glanced in their direction.

Was he also going to Leverkusen? What a coincidence.

“All coincidences are deliberate arrangements by fate,” Aoki Qiao always remembered that saying. Therefore, that man must share his objective—or at least, their paths would intersect.

What else was in Leverkusen at this time?

His target must be the same as mine: the Bayer Laboratory.

Once the train started, Aoki Qiao glanced around the carriage—just ordinary people—then whispered in Japanese to Fujiwara Mio, “Back at the port, a Western man with a prominent nose glanced at you. Do you recall?”

“I sensed it,” Mio replied, “but didn’t look back. It didn’t feel like a lustful or hostile look—since I felt no discomfort.”

“It’s not about your feelings. He’s on this train too, in the carriage ahead,” Aoki Qiao said softly.

Fujiwara Mio turned to him; Aoki Qiao nodded, implying that their destination might be the same.

“There’s one stop between Hamburg and Leverkusen: Dortmund. It’s a major transport hub in the Weimar Republic. If he doesn’t get off there, his objective is likely the same as ours. But why did he glance at you?”

“Did I slip up somewhere?”

“Let me think. There was no reason for him to look back!” Aoki Qiao mused. “He was on the same ship as us. Could he understand Japanese? Did he overhear our conversation in the corner? That must be it! His intuition is sharp; it follows his hearing would be keen.”

Having mostly worked it out, Aoki Qiao let the matter rest. Noticing the lavatory door between the carriages open, he got up to use it, taking the opportunity to glance into the next carriage. The man was nowhere in sight. His intuition is too keen; seeking him out now would only alert him.

After returning to his seat, Aoki Qiao gazed out at the rural landscape. Though it was already April, Hamburg, being so far north in Europe, was still touched by late spring—little greenery, unimpressive scenery.

Over two hours later, the train arrived at Dortmund Central Station. Fujiwara Mio watched the carriage junction from the corner of her eye, while Aoki Qiao scanned the platform outside. The train departed Dortmund, but neither of them saw the man.

How intriguing.

According to history, sulfa drugs hadn’t yet appeared at this time. Yet, due to his reckless intervention and the research team in America having already devoted some time to the project, it had been nearly half a year since their return. Could it be that sulfa drugs had already been developed?

Even if they had, given the era’s slow spread of medical breakthroughs—no internet, no viral videos, and little international attention—could anyone really be so fixated on sulfa drugs?

And then there was penicillin—the miracle drug to save lives—which must already be famous in intelligence circles worldwide. Where had things gone awry? Perhaps the butterfly's wings were flapping a bit too wildly.

Logically, penicillin appeared before sulfa, and its efficacy far surpassed that of sulfa. Why would anyone focus on sulfa now? Was it because the American military guarded penicillin so tightly that foreign spies, finding it unattainable, settled for pursuing sulfa instead? But who had leaked the news about sulfa?

Unable to unravel the mystery, Aoki Qiao decided to set it aside and focus first on locating Gerhard Domagk’s team.

An hour later, just past six in the evening, the train arrived at Leverkusen. Aoki Qiao grabbed his suitcase, following Mio off the train. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man with the prominent nose and rolled-brim hat disembark from another carriage, suitcase in hand.

After leaving the platform, Aoki Qiao paid him no further mind and hailed a taxi.

“To the Bayer Pharmaceutical Factory.”

“Get out! In this cold? Are you making fun of me?” The taxi driver was furious and ordered them out.

“Why is that? We’re visiting friends from out of town and aren’t familiar with the area. Could you explain?” Aoki Qiao quickly replied in German, realizing there must be some situation here he didn’t know about.

“The Bayer plant is only a few hundred meters away! There’s an SS roadblock up ahead!”

Aoki Qiao followed the driver’s finger and saw, just over a hundred meters ahead, a military checkpoint, floodlights, and numerous SS soldiers on patrol.

Aoki Qiao handed the driver a large denomination Reichsmark. “Start the car, turn ahead, and head west. Help us find a hotel—this money’s yours.”

At the sight of the money, the driver’s anger vanished instantly. He started the car and followed Aoki Qiao’s instructions, driving straight ahead before turning.