Officer x You Who Traveled Through Time (Fifty-Seven)
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Privately designed characters, privately designed names and places
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Milanek passed the inspection and was allowed to leave Wenceslas Square. He was standing aside waiting for you, but the soldier next to him raised his rifle and signaled him fiercely in German to leave immediately.
Although Milanek didn’t understand German, the language could be sensed through facial expressions and the tone of words, and he turned his gaze to you.
Silence is a trait of his character, but at this moment, his black eyes are like stars in the dark night, undoubtedly asking you a silent question.
Before you had time to digest the shock and emotion that name brought you, you nodded to Milanek and waved slightly at him. You were destined to be an insignificant passer-by in his vast life.
Milanek then strode towards the northwest of Wenceslas Square, leaving you with only his back.
He was so determined and resolute, without any pause or hesitation.
In the distance, pigeons flew above the statue of St. Wenceslas, forming a round dance that looked like a flying olive wreath. The northwest sky was unusually bright, and a voice in the distance was calling out—
I have heard the call from afar in my heart, and no longer need to look back to care about the right and wrong and discussions behind me.
I have no time to dwell on the past, I want to move forward.
…
"Hello, Major. This is my honorary Aryan identity certificate. Before I came to Wenceslas Square, I had no idea what was going on here."
You handed over the identification in your hand, and Frank kept checking the document.
He looked a little absent-minded, but his gray-blue eyes were still bright.
It was not until the messenger hurried over from the communication point with the order from the current Governor of the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia that Frank turned your ID upside down on the table and stood up, looking tall and strong.
He replied coldly: "Ma'am, I'm sorry, your identity does not pass the review and you are under arrest."
You were shocked. Before you could ask questions or explain, the other party didn't even return your ID. You were pushed by the rude soldiers onto the heavy truck parked nearby.
There were already many extremely exhausted people on the truck. Men, women, and innocent children were mixed together, and everyone was squatting on the ground. A layer of straw was laid on the truck bed. This should not be a military truck, but some kind of "cattle carriage."
Barbed wire was quickly lowered at the rear door of the carriage, and the barbed wire immediately sealed off the entire carriage. The truck was surrounded by armed guns and live ammunition, and the entire carriage was dominated by silent silence.
You squatted near the rear door of the carriage, not knowing what fate awaited you, and the only answer you received was the calm sound of electricity from the system.
The truck started moving quickly. The violent shaking when the engine started made you dizzy, and the smell of engine oil mixed in the air created an irresistible impact on your sense of smell.
After that, the truck left the city of Prague and sped across the vast plains of Bohemia. The wind outside was roaring, as if thousands of horses were galloping.
The truck passed by Bohusovice railway station. In the distance, a huge train locomotive drove out of the platform. The friction of tires and the whistling of steam were deafening. The star-shaped fortress that once imprisoned Gavrilo Princip, who assassinated Archduke Ferdinand, disappeared from sight.
After nearly three hours' drive, the outline of a huge station located in the wilderness gradually emerged before everyone.
A faint Czech voice comes from behind you: "Where are they sending us?"
"Who has good eyesight? There seems to be a bus stop sign over there." Another voice replied, its squatting body leaning forward slightly.
It was a tall, narrow, gray building with a high spire typical of the local area, and all the windows of the building were closed.
Black smoke accumulated on the glass windows like snow. One could imagine how turbid the air there was. The wind blew across people's cheeks, leaving them with a burning sensation as if a fire was burning.
The searching gaze slowly stopped at the top of the wall, where there was a row of large words written in Gothic letters.
Your body, which was reaching out, stopped, and your breath stopped in your heart.
…
The Prague Castle, which has experienced many vicissitudes of life, stands on the west bank of the Vltava River. Its tall spires are sharp and pierce the Bohemian sky. It is a breathtaking group of buildings.
This is not only the headquarters of the Black Legion in Prague, but also the office of the current Governor of the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia is located in this thousand-year-old castle.
Walking up the gray-purple brick ramp and passing the inspection of the heavily guarded guards, Schleicher finally arrived at the Governor's office on the third floor.
"Where is she?"
Schleicher asked in a hoarse and decadent voice across the desk.
General Gerhard was sitting at the Governor's desk, working. His busy political affairs left him no time to receive the visitor, or perhaps he deliberately ignored the harsh questions.
"Father, please tell me, where is she?"
Schleicher straightened his upper body and slowly knelt down. His kneeling still maintained the basic demeanor of a Junker nobleman, kneeling down his right leg first, then slowly kneeling down the other leg.
Seeing this, General Gerhard suddenly threw away the pen in his hand. The pen flew towards Schleicher like a sharp blade, brushing past the side of his face. Schleicher knelt on the ground motionless.
"Hurley, from now on, forget that half-blooded bastard! Get rid of that stray dog look on your face and get back to Theresienstadt!"
The pain was like a burning brand, imprinted on Schleicher's heart.
This burning sensation gradually extended along the meridians to the limbs and bones, spreading everywhere, and finally converged into an uncontrollable sense of fear.
General Gerhard sighed heavily as he sat in his leather chair upon seeing his son's reaction.
"Do you think you're some y.pig savior?"
The man in power continues to suppress and brainwash with patriarchy:
"No! That's just 'hypocrisy'! Hypocrisy will only harm you, your family, and everyone! The screening for the children's camp will be completed by mid-to-late September, and you must be the one in charge of this screening!"
"Okay, Dad still has a lot of work to do, go back and think about it carefully."
Schleicher was still kneeling on the ground. He numbly unbuttoned the holster on his waist, took out the pistol, and pressed it against his left arm. He used such great force that the muzzle of the gun even sank several inches into his skin through his gray-black uniform.
“What are you doing!?”
General Gerhard stood up suddenly, furious, and slammed the table on the spot.
"Where is she?"
Schleicher was like a machine that had been set up to operate unilaterally. He could not hear any other words from his father and just kept repeating the question mechanically.
After hearing his father's roar of "She's dead!", Schleicher shot himself in the left arm without hesitation, making General Gerhard so angry that his face turned purple on the spot and his breath was hanging in his throat.
Blood instantly stained the black clothes. The guards outside the door rushed in immediately after hearing the gunshots in the Governor's office. After seeing the confrontation between father and son, they were shocked and at a loss.
"Father, where is she?"
Seeing that the other party was speechless, Schleicher reloaded the bullet with one hand and fired another shot at his left arm. The bullet casing fell on the blood-stained wooden floor with a crisp tinkling sound.
"Asshole! Herbert von Schleicher, do you want to cripple your left arm?"
Under General Gerhard's incredulous gaze, Schleicher repeated the action, but this time, he put the muzzle of the gun to his own jaw.
"Please tell me..."
Schleicher knelt on the ground and looked up at his father, the man with silver threads in his golden hair, and a look of sadness finally appeared on his face.
General Gerhard witnessed with his own eyes the once passionate flame in his son's ice-blue eyes die out silently and turn into some kind of dead ashes.
Finally, he waved to the guards at the door. Only after the guards retreated did General Gerhard suddenly slump down in the leather chair, making sounds like a hunchbacked old man.
"Poland, Austria."
After hearing this answer, Schleicher was stunned for several seconds.
Afterwards, he put his standard pistol back into its holster, covered his injured left arm, and stood up, staggering towards the door.
"'Hypocrisy'. Did you ask your mother the same question before she passed away? Or perhaps she chose to leave because of you?"
As he approached the door, Schleicher stopped.
These words were like fragile nails scratching against hard steel. Just the sound coming out of his throat was enough to cause a sharp pain in his throat.
Before the door was completely closed, Schleicher made a final resistance to his father.
"Father, I will ask the general to send me to the Eastern Front."
"Just pretend you never had a son like me."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you again."
…
The super-powered Mercedes-Benz 540K drove out of Prague. Due to the lack of basic road maintenance during the war, there were many cracks on the road. The small villages on the side of the road flashed by. In the blink of an eye, the Mercedes-Benz rushed away like a black land torpedo.
An hour and a half later, the Mercedes-Benz passed through a vast green land and arrived in Moravia, where the famous Battle of Austerlitz took place.
More than a hundred years ago, Napoleon defeated the Russian and Austrian forces here.
The earth-shaking battles of the past had long gone with the wind. The Mercedes-Benz car had no lingering feelings about its past glory and continued to move northeast along the road. Soon, it entered Poland.
In the distance, tall chimneys reached into the sky, like a black skeleton, with red tongues of fire spitting out deadly flames. This was the only moving thing in the city of hell.
The locomotive rumbled in, belching steam and smoke that threatened to envelop the station, followed closely by the long, grimy snake of the "cattle car."
With a huge noise and lice-shaking vibrations, the death train braked and stopped.
With a sharp whistle, the soldiers shouted and jumped to the front of the carriage, opened the doors of each carriage, and drove everyone out of the carriage like lightning.
Another harsh command was given, and people quickly formed into a formation of ten rows and nine columns at a speed unimaginable to ordinary people. Amid the whipping of whips and the barking of German Shepherd dogs, the team advanced with difficulty towards the camp.
Schleicher didn't pay any attention to this inhumane scene. The Mercedes-Benz continued to speed until it entered the gate of the camp.
The brick walls of the camp opened their bloody mouths, devouring countless lives. Tall iron pillars supported thick high-voltage cement towers. There were buttons of various sizes on the towers. Pressing one of them would immediately electrify the barbed wire.
"Hey, look, the Governor's son is here."
Major Edgar came to greet him and took the oval steel plate that Schleicher threw to him as proof of identity.
The teasing voice in my ear continued: "God, it seems like I just sent you a telegram not long ago, and you're here so soon? I'm afraid that blue-eyed girl is not just your little lover."
Schleicher put away the oval steel plate and placed it back in his uniform pocket. His eyes were dark and bloodshot.
"Where is she?"
The voice was extremely hoarse, the kind that comes from not having water in it for a long time.
Edgar avoided the question and said, "Major, you should complete the inspection first."
The two walked side by side on the road in the camp. The farthest thing in sight was a wooden guard tower. They passed the barracks of the isolation camp and the army houses. The second camp on the left was the family camp.
The family camp was mainly composed of people from Theresienstadt. It was a secluded camp set up to avoid further investigation by the International Red Cross.
"According to your suggestion, the piglets in there haven't been sent for cleaning yet. They usually go to the Buna factory to work, cleaning the pipes. You're right, those piglets' fingers can indeed reach places that adults can't."
Edgar swayed his fat body, his face greasy as if he had just eaten something very oily.
Schleicher's spirit was already stretched to the limit, and he was unwilling to even put on a show. He stopped without warning and half-raised his eyes wearily.
"Where is she? Take me to her."
Edgar smiled knowingly and patted Schleicher on the shoulder. "Okay, okay, I know you're worried. Your lover is at the Buna factory..."
Before Edgar could finish his words, Schleicher rushed forward and grabbed Edgar by the collar. The veins on his neck bulged, and his angry voice unsurprisingly revealed the man's inner tension at the moment.
"Why did you send her to Buna? Edgar, you dare let her work as a laborer?!"
Edgar quickly raised his hands in surrender, his upper and lower lips moving constantly, trying to calm the mad dog that was obviously in a manic state and ready to bite him at any time.
"Hey, Herbert, calm down and use your brain. How dare I touch your people? Your lover's identity is quite mysterious. She even knows Mr. Klauch, the chairman of the Supervisory Board of IG Farben. She is currently accompanying Mr. Klauch on an inspection tour of Buna."
Hearing this, Schleicher finally loosened his grip on Edgar's collar. His expression became even more serious and heavy, with only a terrifying coldness in his eyes.
He didn't ask the other party to lead the way, but turned around and went to the parking spot of the Mercedes-Benz. He drove at a high speed, and his destination was the Buna factory eight kilometers away from Camp No. 2.
That is the notorious sweatshop - the Monowitz labor camp.
"Still as crazy as before..."
Edgar, who was left there, had his facial muscles twitching a few times. He straightened his crooked collar, cleared his throat, muttered a few words, and left.
…
The road to the Buna factory was extremely rugged, so Schleicher abandoned his Mercedes and walked. Along the way were excavated land, piles of coal, and cement with a damp smell.
A layer of oily debris floated on the sewage pit, reflecting the dark and gloomy sky. Black military boots stepped over it, and water suddenly splashed.
The prisoner in blue and white striped uniform was hunched over and carrying a heavy sack of ammonium salt on his back. His uniform was tattered, his face was pale and gray, and his hopeless face was hidden in a large shadow.
"Where is Mr. Crowher of Farben?"
Schleicher grabbed a corporal who saluted him and asked him a random question.
The corporal immediately put his legs together, knocked his heels together, raised his head high, and replied seriously:
"Major, Mr. Crowher was just in the magnesium chloride workshop. He was inspecting the employees of the chemical team and assessing their professional abilities."
Schleicher nodded and turned to walk towards the magnesium chloride workshop of the Buna factory. At this time, the pebbles on the ground began to jump. He looked down and noticed the abnormal fluctuations of the ground.
He frowned, then half-knelt on the ground, listening carefully to the sound. A buzzing sound similar to that made by a heavy truck when it was overloaded gradually sounded.
The sound grew closer and clearer, until the camp windows began to rattle and it sounded like God frantically shaking ice in a glass.
"It's a bomber! Air defense observer! Where is the air defense observer?!"
Schleicher immediately ran back towards the guard tower. Upon hearing the shout, the soldiers of the Buna factory first lost their pace, and then immediately roared and ordered the exhausted prisoners to immediately transfer the various military supplies in the warehouse.
A moment later, the sound of air raid sirens rang out over the Buna factory.
In the distance, the buzzing sound became deeper and more powerful. Suddenly, the sky was filled with white smoke. The command plane marked the sky above the bombing target. The whistle produced by the free fall of the bomb sounded like the devil screaming.
A strange white light flashed in the air, followed by a dull and loud noise, and something wailed in the flames.
In the face of the bombing, the order temporarily lost its function. The team transporting military supplies abandoned the supplies in their hands and ran towards the newly dug trench at the Buna factory, where new cables were about to be buried.
The soldiers raised their rifles, fired bullets into the air, then pointed their guns at innocent people, pretending to be ready to shoot at any time, and drove people into the ditch like cattle and sheep.
After the loud roar, there was a silence amidst the flames.
The people lying in the ditch raised their heads tentatively and looked at the huge fire dragon spraying fire not far away with extremely confused eyes.
Schleicher suddenly felt a cold fear tightening around his heart, and in the sweeping gaze, he spotted the corporal who had told him where Klauch was.
"Where is that?"
The corporal stared at the thick black smoke ahead, momentarily stunned. Then, he was brought back to his senses by a roar in his ear. "I'm asking you, where was the bombed place?!"
"Major, that...that should be Buna's synthetic oil refinery!"
Not a magnesium chloride workshop.
Schleicher breathed a sigh of relief.
I suddenly realized that the clothes on my back were completely soaked with sweat.
…
When you met Schleicher, he was sitting in the lounge of the military camp, with his head down and eyes cast down, looking very aggrieved, inexplicably like a drowned pug.
He was wearing a gray-black military uniform jacket, with his left arm bandaged underneath the jacket. Blood was seeping from the bandage, and there was a glass of water with only half a cup left on the coffee table.
"Isn't your arm almost healed? Why is it bleeding again?"
You are standing right opposite the window, and outside the window you can see the blackened iron foundry reinforced with barbed wire. On the tall and big tower are several corpses hanging for public display, their exposed ribs as clear as hemp ropes.
You frowned, feeling your physical and mental discomfort worsen. Not only did your head hurt, but you also felt a little dizzy.
You closed the window behind Schleicher and pulled the curtains at the same time, and the light in the lounge suddenly dimmed.
When you turned around again, you were pulled by Schleicher and stumbled into his arms. His left arm was injured and he couldn't use force, but he still insisted on holding your slender waist, and he was determined not to let you go.
You were afraid that his left arm would be injured again, so after struggling for a few times without success, you had to use your upper body to grab his neck and try not to let his left arm bear the weight.
"Are you hurt?"
You shook your head quietly.
"Are you scared?" He rubbed his face against yours. Even though he had drunk some water, his voice was still surprisingly hoarse.
You pursed your lips and nodded.
"I'm sorry, Kitty."
The sudden apology left you a little confused, and when you looked up, you fell into his eyes.
Because you actually saw yourself in his icy blue eyes - suspended in two drops of clear water as bright as sapphire.
Before you could even think, Schleicher leaned down and kissed you.
This was a one-sided kiss, and the time from outlining the lip shape to deep sucking was not short, but you really didn't like this kind of overbearing, strong, and irresistible kiss. The headache and dizziness made you feel even more uncomfortable, so you clenched your teeth and almost bit him to bleed again.
"Open your mouth."
He desperately held your waist with his injured left arm, threatening you in the hope that you would soften your heart.
"Ina, please open your mouth."
You started struggling again until you felt something hot dripping on your face, sliding down your face to your shoulders and neck. Your heart trembled and you subconsciously stopped struggling.
"Schleicher?"
He put the military cap he had taken off and put aside on your head. The wide-brimmed hat blocked your vision and all you could hear in your ears was his apology.
"Kitten, I was wrong. I was really wrong. I'm sorry."
…
You didn't stop, and Schleicher drove you back. He knew you were afraid and that you instinctively feared the hell of death.
As the Mercedes Benz drove along, bypassing potholes of all sizes on the road, you turned around and watched the thick gray walls of the outer industrial area gradually fade from sight.
You turned around and curled up in the passenger seat like a lazy cat, covered with Schleicher's gray-black military uniform jacket, holding the Browning pistol that Feintz gave you.
"Ina, what are you doing in the magnesium chloride workshop in Buna?"
Schleicher asked as he drove.
The Buna factory was a sweatshop used by IG Farben to produce synthetic rubber, and the camp provided IG Farben with cheap labor.
"Uncle Clauhe came to inspect the chemical formation and went to the magnesium chloride workshop first."
You carefully wiped the small and exquisite Browning with a clean cloth, recalling what you saw and heard there, and couldn't help but confide in him.
"Schleicher, you don't know how difficult the working conditions are there... We have to soak our feet in salt water all day long, and that water is corrosive..."
The man showed no sympathy. He asked, "Kitten, I remember the records said you studied chemistry at the University of Paris?"
Seeing his hardened look, you suddenly didn’t want to talk to him anymore, and your voice sounded muffled.
"I dropped out after less than a year."
"Why?"
"I have a baby now, and dealing with chemical reagents for a long time is not good for the baby. It also gives me a headache."
You feel a little dizzy now, as if you are a little carsick.
You silently kept the most direct reason in your heart - the attitude of teachers and classmates towards you became worse and worse, so that you could no longer stay in the University of Paris for long.
"oh."
Someone was sulking and muttering something in his mind while unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt with one hand.
Here, you continue to lazily lie in the passenger seat, touching the bolt of the Browning rifle in your hand. There is a line of small numbers and letters engraved there, which is the serial number of this gun. You have never noticed it before.
Berlin19/27/3/9-M1906.
This string of numbers represents the model of the gun and the information of the user, which means that the gun has undergone strict registration and review by the military.
The soldier was born in 1919 and belonged to the 27th police district in the Berlin area. His military record is in Volume 3, Page 9, and his Browning pistol model is M1906.
After you were taken to the camp by a military truck, the Browning in your pocket was discovered. The inspector found the serial number on the gun and followed the clues. After a while, he found out the owner of the gun and notified Schleicher.
You claimed that you were arrested by mistake and had a close relationship with Major Schleicher. While the camp inspector was waiting for a reply to the telegram, you happened to meet Klauch from IG Farben who personally led a team to inspect the chemical formation. He became the guarantor of your identity.
So you followed Claucher to the Buna factory and thus avoided the death purge.
"Yina, don't point the gun at your own people."
Schleicher glanced at you while driving, and without realizing it, you aimed the muzzle of your gun at the driver's jaw.
You obediently put the gun away and muttered quietly, "This gun must have been obtained by someone from Ferto, how can it be yours?"
"Kitty, didn't Fair say he asked someone to get it? Why can't that person be me?"
Schleicher finally curled up the corners of his mouth and smiled in a way that seemed to be asking for credit.
He admitted that he deliberately gave Fiennes a pistol engraved with his military number because when Fiennes asked him for the gun, he knew that the gun would eventually be delivered to you.
…
As it was getting dark, Schleicher parked his car at a roadside hotel and stopped on his way.
From the outside, this hotel looks completely imperial, but when you walk in, you will see brightly colored fabrics and tapestries hanging on the walls, full of Bohemian style.
The innkeeper was a middle-aged woman who spoke German fluently.
Not only did she shout out the "Long Live the King" greeting in the best and most high-spirited manner, she also quickly arranged two clean and comfortable bedrooms for you, and specifically told you that you were not subject to the hot water quota today.
When you come out of the shower and blow-dry your hair, you find Schleicher appearing like a ghost in your locked room, sitting on your bed without any hesitation.
He was only wrapped in a bath towel, his muscular chest muscles were clearly visible, the water droplets on his body had not yet been wiped off, and the bandage on his left arm was still oozing with blood.
Your eyes widened, and Schleicher tossed you a bag filled with the luxuries many people of this era have longed for: well-made, comfortable underwear.
"Thank...thank you?"
Schleicher hummed twice, then said something earth-shattering, successfully appreciating your light blue eyes that were extremely vivid with anger.
"Kitten, I'm sleeping here tonight."
He was afraid that you didn't understand what he meant, so he added, his tone soft as if he was negotiating, but the movement of taking off his clothes was not vague at all.
"It's 'sleep with'."
A scorching body pressed against you, and Schleicher said to you in an extremely annoying voice:
"Of course, Ina, you can resist me tonight in any way you learned from Fel."
Chapter 44 The gun that her brother gave to Ina was obtained from Schleicher. "He can't always be by your side, not to mention that your father is in trouble now. After much thought, he asked someone to get this Browning."
Uncle Klauch, Chapter 48, when the protagonist asks Farben's Uncle Klauch to help Ina solve the hair dye crisis
The Easter egg is a preview of the next chapter
Red heart is the driving force of renewalbr>
No gift record
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