What to do if you encounter a madman in another world (10)
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A different world, a fictional background! Nothing to do with reality!
The characters are privately designed, the world view is privately designed, the names of people and places are privately designed!
The male and female protagonists are not biological children, brother is just a title!
The key fits perfectly into the keyhole, making a sound like gears turning.
The moment you heard the click, you swore you used the fastest speed ever to put the carbon copy folder in your hand back into the pile of documents.
But the desk is some distance away from the reception area, and you don't have time to run over.
The door creaked open and a female soldier came in.
She was dressed similarly to the female soldier who checked your ID when you first entered the headquarters office building. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was holding a thick stack of documents.
When the female soldier saw someone who shouldn't be in General Kalman's office, she immediately threw the documents on the ground, took out her pistol, and without hesitation pointed the muzzle at you who was half-crouching on the ground.
She pulled the butt of the gun back, and with a click, the bullet was loaded.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
You half-crouched on the ground, your left hand grasping the edge of the desk, your right hand covering your stomach, your face grimacing in pain, and you made a hissing sound while inhaling.
You hope that your usually poor acting skills can seem more natural at this moment.
"I'm sorry... General Kalman brought me here. I... my stomach hurts... Can you... can you help me..."
When the female soldier heard General Kalman's address, her hands relaxed noticeably, but she remained alert. You had no choice but to continue:
"My name is Ilan Hodgkin, and I'm currently...temporarily staying at General Kalman's house...I'm really not a bad person, please help me...My stomach really hurts..."
The female soldier's face froze. She locked the safety on her pistol and put it back into the holster. She walked over and helped you to the sofa in the reception area, then made a call using the landline on the desk.
You let out a long sigh.
Apparently, the crisis is over. As expected, today is another day trip to the hospital.
You can't help but feel frustrated. You feel like you're not cut out for being a spy. You only care about looking around and forget to observe carefully. If you were to take the spy exam, you'd probably get a zero.
When you entered your uncle's office, you just felt warm, and then you just stared at your uncle's actions, but ignored the small fire in the corner that was as red as agate.
There was a small office area next to the desk with a typewriter on it, which clearly meant that there might be someone else in the office besides General Kalman.
It turned out that this female soldier was General Kalman's most trusted secretary, both at work and in life.
In the winter, she would arrive at the office early, light the fireplace so that the general could enjoy the warmth as soon as he arrived at the office, and then go to the ink room and mail room to collect relevant materials.
…
"Why did you go to headquarters today?"
As soon as Feynz entered your room, he walked straight to the sofa in the room. He sat on the sofa and gestured for you to come over with his eyes. You didn't dare to disobey him, so you locked the door and went over obediently.
He used just one hand to wrap his arms around your waist tightly, his chest pressing against your inside, and you huddled in his arms unwillingly.
You thought that after returning to Berlin, Feinz would be more restrained, but he didn't seem to be afraid of the exposure of your affair with him. He would come to your room and stay for a while every night as usual. In the end, you were the only one who was terrified.
Really... shameless, invincible...
"I'm home alone, bored."
You explained to your uncle that you had a stomachache, but the door was locked, so you thought of the phone on the desk. But before you could call, your stomach hurt so much that you had to squat aside.
Although Feinz may have learned what happened today from other people, there is no need to explain it to him in such detail.
Being eager to explain is usually a sign of guilt, and detailed explanations are often false interpretations.
A soft laugh came from Feints above your head. He used his other hand to gently stroke your soft and bulging belly, deliberately lengthening his tone.
"Bored?"
You instantly thought of the conversation on Christmas Eve... This is boring, but not the same boring as that... You lowered your head, no longer looking at him, and replied sullenly:
"Brother, I have a stomachache today, you...you don't do anything rash..."
Little did you know that when you lowered your head, your fair and smooth neck was exposed, and your ears were pink and could not be concealed. When Feintz saw this scene, his Adam's apple rolled.
"Ina, do you want to see a movie or an opera?"
"Huh?" You're a little confused.
His hands began to restlessly fiddle with the ends of your hair again, touching it casually, intentionally or unintentionally.
"Isn't it boring?"
Okay, stop, stop, you can't bear to hear the word "boring" now.
"Opera, brother, I want to watch an opera."
"Okay," he paused and continued, "the ends of your hair are a little faded. Let Mrs. Blott dye it again tomorrow."
…
Feynman takes you to the National Opera House, and the busy ushers lead you to the private box on the second floor.
The box is right above the stage, with an excellent location and a wide view, facing the opera singers on the stage, as if you are only a few meters away from them.
The play in this performance is the Greek myth "Oedipus Rex". When people talk about Oedipus, the first thing that comes to mind is often Freud's famous Oedipus complex.
Oedipus was the son of the King and Queen of Thebes. A god predicted that he would kill his father and marry his mother. The king refused to accept this fate, so he rebelled and abandoned him. However, unexpectedly, when Oedipus grew up, he eventually helped the oracle come true without knowing it.
As the plot progresses, the harmony in the music gradually evokes unsettling emotions. The extremely loud chords and rough string music allow the audience to find emotional resonance.
The door of the box was knocked a few times and then pushed open. Yuri came over and said a few words to Feints. Feints then stood up, picked up his coat and military cap, told you that he had something to deal with, bent down and kissed your forehead, then left the box.
The soprano's aria is high-pitched and sad, lamenting the tricks of fate with the most shocking voice in the world.
You probably really don't have any artistic talent. Even when you were a child, you were forced to learn piano by your mother. Now you just feel a headache because of the noise, it hurts so much.
You walked out of the box, went down the stairs, and planned to go to the corridor on the first floor to get some fresh air. When you came, you seemed to see many posters on the walls on both sides of the corridor.
A long corridor leads to the side door of the opera house. The lively and bustling atmosphere in the venue suddenly dissipates, leaving only loneliness and desolation, giving people a different kind of tranquility.
You thought the posters were promotions for some operas, but when you stopped in front of a poster, you saw a picture of an old man with a distorted face and a deformed body.
…
He raised his eyes, letting his gaze slip over the rims of his glasses as he looked towards you and Feints, "Besides, I'd be very happy to be your witness."
?
Who? Who is the witness? Who is the witness?
You were petrified on the spot.
…
"Uncle! My brother is crazy. How could you...how could you agree to him?"
As soon as he left, you completely lost control. The maids didn't dare to say a word and could only clear the table silently. Mrs. Blot didn't want to get involved and just stood there pulling at her apron anxiously.
"Ina, this child is definitely not illegitimate. You have a special status now, and I must ensure that you and this child are adequately protected. Your uncle will be leaving Berlin soon..."
General Kalman looked at the tears welling up in your eyes, sighed, and continued in a slower voice:
"Yina, you can't become a laughing stock. Besides, it's just a nominal marriage for your protection."
What marriage in name only? It’s already a fact!
Just when you wanted to continue begging your uncle, Feinz grabbed your arm and pulled you in front of him, claiming that he would take care of everything. He dragged you upstairs and told you to talk about it after you finished washing up.
After Fiennes had packed up, he was about to go to your room when he ran into Mrs. Blott who was bringing you bedtime milk. He took the milk.
"Have you finished washing up? Come over and have some milk."
You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling unhappy, pouting, and not wanting to reply to him.
"Yina, you've been a little too bold lately."
Feinz brought the milk to you, the blue in his eyes gradually losing its warmth, and he was obviously a little annoyed.
You have forgotten that he is inhuman... and you cannot expect him to truly understand your feelings.
You drank the milk in one gulp, leaving a small circle of milk stain on your upper lip. You stretched out your head to lick it, but ended up licking the milk stain further outside your lip.
"It's not clean."
Feinz knelt on one knee in front of you. Instead of using a tissue, he reached out and wiped the milky white off your lips, letting the milk become thicker between his fingertips.
Is he dirty?
Be thankful that hot water isn't rationed yet, or you might have a rough night's sleep.
You didn't mention marriage again; it was a done deal. Since resistance was no longer meaningful, submission became the only option.
Instead of going back, Feints stayed in your room.
In the middle of the night, you woke up because of the pain in your calf cramps. Your leg muscles were forced to contract involuntarily, and the pain made you break out in a cold sweat. You wanted to pinch your left leg with your hand, but it was not convenient because of your bloated belly.
"Ina? Does it hurt here?"
Feinz woke up, lifted you up, and then put your left leg on him, placing his fingers on your calf and kneading it gently.
"Brother, why me..."
You wiped away your tears with the back of your hand, but tears were like falling autumn leaves; as soon as you wiped away one, another fell.
"Ina, go to sleep."
You turned sideways, your back to Feynz, the quilt showing a gap due to the distance between the two of you. The wind blew against your back, making your spine a little cold.
Just when you didn't want to change positions and put yourself at a disadvantage, and were planning to endure it all night, he rolled up the quilt for you and filled the gap.
The fire in the stove was still burning, the flames swaying, occasionally crackling and emitting a spark.
My Ina, my love, you were born for me.
I will give you the name Kalman.
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