What to do if you encounter a madman in another world (19)
Overhead background!!
Personalized characters and worldviews! Nothing to do with real history
The male and female protagonists are not biological children
Look here first!
I tried my best to write this chapter to give it the feeling of a movie!
For a better reading experience, I’ve bolded the details! The bolded parts are like the close-up shots you’d get in a movie!
Jonas spoke to you in French, a language with long, emphatic consonants. The word "hair dye" sounded like a death sentence to you.
Although you were a little horrified by Jonas's hideous face, you still held back the tears of fear in your eyes and swallowed your saliva.
"Sir... No... I, I am an honorary Aryan..."
Hearing this, Jonas gritted his teeth and smiled again.
"The noble Aryan bloodline is not something that some filthy, lowly bug can try to infect."
"Sir...it's true. I...I have identification..."
The part of your face that was pinched was burning with pain, and you could imagine there must be two symmetrical red marks on each side of your cheeks, but you had no time to care about that.
You took a step back, trying to pull your ID card out of the pocket on the right waist of your blue and white skirt.
Jonas stopped you with a shout, "Bitch! Did I let you move? You unruly, dirty bastard!"
Only then did you realize that your previous action was a dangerous signal to the enemy. Who knows whether what you have in your pocket is an ID or a sharp knife.
He reached out and roughly pushed you against the wall. You were pressed against the wall with your face pressed against it and forced to raise your arms.
Jonas's hands pass under your armpits and slowly slide down, staying on your chest for much longer than a normal body search, and then his hands continue to move down.
Until he leaned forward slightly and gave your hips a firm grip.
The wet wall is cold and solid, because of the rainy climate in Paris all year round, it is always covered with a layer of mist and a layer of green moss. The natural and light smell of moisture flows into your light blue eyes.
You closed your eyes and opened them again, trying to remind him.
"Sir... my ID is in my pocket... I... I don't carry any weapons..."
A pair of blood-stained hands groping you all over in the name of search is undoubtedly a great humiliation for you, which is far more terrifying than violence by fists and feet.
He reached out and dug into your pocket, and a sarcastic sneer came from behind you, followed by a few angry curses.
"Where's that honorary Aryan identification card you mentioned?! Did it get eaten into a pig's esophagus?! How dare you play tricks on me?!"
Your body was turned over, facing him. At this moment, Jonas had a ferocious face and a powerful aura. Rather than saying that he looked like a monster, it would be better to say that he was a demon in uniform.
How... How could there be nothing...
Oh my god…you forgot to bring your Honorary Aryan ID card…
Your chest started to hurt again. You took too long to come out, and the excess fluid from your left breast soaked your skirt.
You shook your head and kept explaining, "No, no... I didn't lie to you... I forgot to bring it..."
His impudent gaze swept over your left breast, he pulled the corner of his mouth, and patted your face again.
"So you're still a young mother, and you still have nipple fluid. It looks like the baby you gave birth to is no more than two years old."
Jonas seemed to have lost interest in you. Before you could reply, he pushed you forward forcefully, and two corporals with guns immediately grabbed you.
"Have those French pigs get this bitch on the truck."
Soon, you were taken over by French police wearing dark blue uniforms and armed belts. Jonas continued to lead his team to search the Rue de Charity with great fanfare before leaving, causing unrest in the entire Latin Quarter.
…
A Mercedes-Benz was driving on the way to its headquarters, passing by the Champs-Élysées.
There are chestnut trees planted on both sides of the avenue. The chestnut trees that were originally in full bloom have passed their flowering period, and the fallen flowers on the ground are left unpicked, leaving a lingering fragrance.
Feintz sat in the car, leaning against the back of the car, with his right arm raised and his hand on his forehead, constantly poking his eyebrows with his middle finger. He always felt a little uneasy, as if something might happen.
"Have the guards in the mansion's back garden been reassigned after they were transferred?"
Yuri replied, "Sir, due to a shortage of manpower on Lelaton Street, no new arrangements have been made yet. However, the back garden fence is very high, and the lady..."
Rue Le Ladon is in the 15th arrondissement of Paris.
"Let's not go to Foch Street, let's go back to the mansion."
Feinz lowered his arms, his deep blue eyes fixed on the rearview mirror above the driver's seat, watching Yuri's increasingly hesitant expression, and then made the decision to change lanes.
…
[Paris, France, 15th arrondissement, velodrome]
You received a system location prompt.
You were rushed out of the truck and injured your ankle while jumping, leaving you with a slight limp in your left leg.
This truck probably carries twenty or thirty people. As soon as you enter the racetrack, the big door behind you will be heavily closed.
You wait in line with others, and you need to sign at a makeshift desk guarded by French police.
The moment you put pen to paper, you signed a pseudonym because you felt that leaving your real name on the list used to arrest y. people would be a disguised acknowledgement of your identity, which would cause trouble.
After signing, you finally found a corner in the crowd and squatted down.
You secretly observed your surroundings and found that in the huge racetrack, there were dozens of French policemen with sinister expressions standing on every wall, and the guns in their hands were naked threats.
In July during peacetime, Paris's most popular car race takes place here.
But now, looking around, the racing track that was supposed to be used for drivers' training is crowded with brown-haired, black-eyed people wearing yellow armbands on their arms. There are at least five or six hundred people, and the number is still increasing.
The racetrack was filled with dust and the air was filled with lingering smoke. You had no choice but to close your eyes and cover your mouth with your hands.
My ears were filled with the crying of children, the comforting voices of women, the low grumblings of men, and the impatient scoldings of French police.
…
When the guards guarding the Earl's Mansion saw the familiar Mercedes-Benz, they immediately stood at attention and saluted Feynman who got out of the car.
Fiennes strode open the door and heard Emma sobbing at the top of her lungs. Mandy was in the kitchen, frantically preparing condensed milk.
Fiennes picked up Emma who was lying in the crib in the living room. With a frown on his face, he gently rocked Emma to comfort her while walking into the room.
"gentlemen……"
When Mandy saw Feintz suddenly come back, she was so scared that she almost spilled the milk powder she had just prepared in the bottle.
"Where is the lady?"
"First... Sir, please give the young lady to me. She's hungry. I... I'll feed her..."
Feinz's expression turned ugly. "I'm asking you, ma'am, where did you go?! Do I need to repeat it again?"
Emma felt her father's anger in Fiennes' arms, and her crying suddenly became louder, so he had to pat Emma gently with his hands.
The terrible anger coupled with the father's tenderness made the whole scene seem a little funny.
Mandy was immediately terrified. She bent down and crossed her hands on her stomach, not knowing whether she wanted to protect the parts that might be kicked or just to express respect.
"Sir, Madam... Madam left early this morning by climbing over the wall in the back garden... She said she was going to the bookstore on Charity Street..."
Charity Street is close to the Place de la Concorde. As the supreme commander of this operation, Feynz knew exactly what kind of activity was going on in the Place de la Concorde.
He handed Emma, who was still crying in her arms, to Mandy, and was about to leave the mansion when Mandy stopped him and indicated that your ID card had been left on the coffee table in the living room because of your rush this morning.
As Fiennes looked at the certificate of honor on the coffee table, which he had personally arranged for you, his uneasiness continued to grow. Every cry of Emma seemed like an accusation against her mother for ignoring her.
"Go to Charity Street immediately."
Yuri opened the car door for him, and after he sat down directly in the back seat of the Mercedes-Benz, he walked around the car half a circle and sat down in the passenger seat.
…
You squatted on the ground, looked up at the hazy afternoon sunlight on the racetrack for a while, and then lowered your head again.
The lack of water and food amplified the panic, and the track was filled with uncontrolled children running around, begging for water from anyone who looked helpful.
The air was already filled with an inescapable stench, and although people still retained a basic sense of shame, they could only dispose of their sexual needs on the spot, looking dejected and like animals. Here, there was no dignity, no human dignity.
Your mouth is dry, your lips are cracked, and the pain in your chest is getting worse. In a trance, you seem to hear the squeaking of racing wheels as they go across the banked wooden track.
"Madam, madam? Could you... could you have pity on this child?"
ah……
You looked up blankly, only to see a boy about fourteen years old, holding a baby in his arms, looking at you anxiously.
The boy's name was Acimon, and in his arms was his four-month-old sister, Persica.
Perska was starving. If she were at home, she could ask the neighboring lady for some milk, but now they were caught here. If the child didn't eat, she would probably starve to death.
Acimon saw you rubbing your chest uncomfortably, and seeing that you had a charming demeanor despite your young age, he concluded that you were probably a married woman who had recently given birth.
"Okay, little brother."
You took Persica from Acimon's arms. There was no so-called mother-and-baby room here, but you unbuttoned the button on the left shoulder of your blue and white cotton dress without hesitation.
July was already showing signs of heat, and most people were dragged here from their homes or the streets without any explanation, and had no extra clothes.
Although Aciman was still young, he understood what shame was. He took off the only vest he had on and put it on your exposed part, then stood in front of you like a little soldier, guarding your post.
Little Per sucked contentedly, his little hands reaching out to touch you. You looked at the child in your arms who was only a month older than Emma, and couldn't help but wonder if Emma was also hungry at home.
No, no...
child……
There are children everywhere! Including newborns! Are they...are they so heartless that they won't even spare the children?!
You need to find a way to get out of here quickly...
After feeding your child, you fastened the buttons on your shoulders, then stood up and walked around, trying to find the French police you knew among the stars of blue so that they could verify your identity.
At the same time, after counting the number of people at his makeshift desk, Gabriel, the chief of the Paris Police Department, stood in front of the high stands and looked down at the hundreds of people below who were like trapped animals.
With blonde hair and blue eyes, she stood out among the crowd of brown, yellow and black people.
Gabriel frowned and touched his thick, upturned lips with his hand. He wondered if those idiots had caught the wrong person to complete the mission.
He walked down the stands and headed towards you. The moment he saw your profile, he was startled. Just as he was about to say hello to you, Jonas came over with a group of people.
"Hello, sir!" Gabriel immediately greeted respectfully like a lackey.
"Old man, what are you looking at?"
Jonas saw you, of course, but he asked again, trying to figure out the reason for Gabriel's unusual behavior.
"Sir, I think I saw Commander Kalman's wife..."
Gabriel smiled apologetically.
"Oh? Commander Kalman's wife."
He drawled out his words, narrowing his eyes, a hint of excitement in his blue-green pupils.
…
Charity Street Bookshop.
"Is there a young woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a blue and white dress, who came to your place this morning?"
Yuri pointed his gun at the bookstore owner and asked loudly.
Feintz stood outside the store, his back to what was happening inside. He lit a cigarette and took a few deep puffs to calm himself down.
"Sir, no, but, but I saw from the window, there was indeed a girl in a skirt. She used to come to my place to read books, but she was... she was captured by your people..."
The bookstore owner put his palms together in front of his chest and responded to Yuri's question with a gesture of praying to God, trying to get the person in front of him to give him a way out.
They've almost burned all the books, so why not let people go too? Who is that girl? Is she the mistress of a high-ranking official? What kind of world is this? Good girls have to "sell" themselves to make a living.
"Sir?"
Yuri went out to seek instructions from Feints who was standing at the door on what to do next.
"The books here haven't been burned clean."
He threw away the cigarette, left a few words, and got into the car. Yuri gave a few instructions to a few corporals and hurriedly followed.
…
"There are almost enough people now. Let's separate these sows and piglets first."
As soon as Jonas finished speaking, Gabriel ordered his men to take action. Blue figures, batons raised high, forcibly separated mothers from their young children one after another.
Anyone who disobeys will be punished with a baton.
To prevent his woman from getting mad, the man half-dragged, half-carried her away. The child screamed and cried desperately, her clothes soaked by tears quickly drying up in the heat.
In the chaos, tears welling in your eyes, you were pushed to the other side of the dividing line. Oh my God, what are they doing! Separating mothers and children, separating loved ones, won't they feel uneasy?
Jonas licked his lips and wiped the moisture off them with his hand.
"Take that bitch who used hair dye into the cubicle. I want to ask who gave her this contraband!"
A French police officer grabbed your hair with a grin on his face and pushed you into a compartment inside the racetrack. This was supposed to be a place for racers to rest after training.
The original east-west benches had been dismantled and transported to an unknown place, leaving only four square nail marks on the ground and a dirty chair in the corner.
At first, everything was normal, but not long after, waves of heart-wrenching cries of a woman came from the next room, and then suddenly there was no sound.
Once again, you are forced to hear what cruelty is, and you feel that the world is upside down and black and white are not distinguished.
Next, it won’t be your turn...
You sat on the ground with your arms folded, your head lowered, your body trembling slightly.
Emma, brother...
There is no response to the call in your heart, only a burst of electric sound in your mind.
…
The Mercedes-Benz sped along, its tires screeching as it drifted over the speed limit. Accompanied by a horn blaring, the guards at the detention center opened the door.
Feyntz got out of the car and went inside. He looked around the crowd trying to find the familiar figure, but the noise around him was too loud. The French police's scolding was quickly drowned out by the noisy crowd.
He raised his hand, and the corporal following closely behind him loaded his gun and fired several shots into the air.
Bang, bang, bang. Three crisp gunshots followed, and startled birds flew up from around the enclosure. Amidst the fluttering of their wings, wisps of green smoke drifted through the sky.
No one dared to speak anymore. They opened their dark gray eyes wide and squatted on the ground, shivering, fearing that the blind bullets would hit them.
Feynz walked through rows of people, grabbed a young woman, and then let her go hastily.
No, no, not yet!
Ina, where is his Ina!
Yuri quickly flipped through the list in the register at the makeshift desk, then strode over to Feints and said:
"Sir, the lady's name was not found on the roster."
Damn it!
"Where is the person in charge here?! Let him come out and see me!" Feints said angrily.
"Captain Kalman... Commander... The person in charge is currently..." The French police officer who answered wiped the sweat from his forehead and continued cautiously, "In the compartment..."
He was so unlucky that he offended people on both sides with just one sentence.
The compartment where torture and violence are carried out.
Feinz felt a surge of blood rushing to his heart. He ran without caring about his image, rushed all the way to the compartment, kicked open the wooden door, and a sharp female voice came from inside.
He only took one glance and made a basic judgment. The next one, still not.
After the last door was kicked open, he saw two bodies copulating with each other, and lying on the ground were clothes interwoven with black, blue and white.
A man's passion is like a beast that was expelled from the Garden of Eden. It came to the deep mountains and forests, uprooted the broken trees, drilled deeper and deeper into the ground more and more frantically, and did all kinds of evil things.
The woman's cry for help was as piercing as a broken gong.
At that moment, Feints had already pulled out his pistol and, in a frenzy, shot the man who had committed the crime.
He rushed forward and pried open the overlapping white bodies. After seeing a pair of gray-black eyes, he half relaxed his breath, and then tightened it again.
"ah--"
The paddock manager held his legs and screamed.
"Sir… Sir…"
"Asshole! Having an affair with a slutty woman is a blatant violation of the law! Do you want to go to court?!"
There was a constant cry for mercy.
He covered his neck with his left hand and held the gun in his right hand. He paced a few steps, and his shiny military boots were now covered with dust.
Not here, his Ina is not here.
"Hurry to the racetrack!"
There were two roundups in this operation.
One is the Ursiaton Paddock on the outskirts of the city; the other is the cycling velodrome in the center of Paris. In addition to some men, the main targets there are women with children.
…
With a creak, the door was opened.
Jonas dragged the chair from the corner over, but did not sit down. Instead, he put one leg high on it, took out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket, and lit the cigarette with a click.
"Bitch, tell me, hair dye, especially the rare light blonde hair dye, where did you get it from?"
You still sit on the ground with your eyes downcast and remain silent.
You're not defending Fiennes, this is all for Emma.
Once the truth is revealed, your child will be the first to suffer. Even if her bloodline can barely cross the edge of forced hai, she will still be hurt.
Seeing that you were pretending to be deaf and dumb, Jonas sneered, walked towards you, and half-knelt on the ground. He gently ran his hand through your hair, and then grabbed it hard. You immediately raised your head in pain.
He blew a puff of smoke into your face, and your face frowned instantly.
"Don't you know German well? Now you're pretending not to understand?"
Your scalp hurts from being pulled, and you can't help but grin and want to cry. You reach out and slap the arm that's holding your hair, and start to reply:
"Black...black market..."
Jonas obviously didn't believe you, and he glanced at you presumptuously with an aggressive gaze.
What's that saying? Disguised yanderes are often the hardest to spot. Not to mention, after dyeing her hair, this yandere no longer looked like a lowly person. Instead, she looked a bit like Lily from Weimar.
Lily, thinking of this, a hint of uncontrollable desire appeared on his face.
Jonas took another puff, put out the cigarette in a hurry, stretched out the hand that was holding your hair, and passed all the cigarette in his mouth to you. You were choked by the smoke and your face turned pale.
In this fierce confrontation, you desperately try to escape his disgusting touch, waves of anger and grief rising in your heart. Finally, he pushes you to the ground and stands up.
You lay on the ground, gasping for breath, with a trace of blood flowing from the corner of your mouth.
"Bitch, what did you think I would do to you?! Do you think I'm the same as those shameless idiots who say one thing and do another? Touching you is a compliment, but you dare to bite me, you filthy pig?! Dirty pig, you half-blood..."
After Jonas stood up, he spat a mouthful of blood foam on the ground, then put his hands on his hips and kept pacing around in the narrow compartment, talking non-stop, as if he was looking for excuses for his disordered behavior.
The incessant cursing in the room suddenly died down. Jonas was slightly surprised to see you stand up. In his opinion, the weak should not stand, but only kneel on the ground and be bullied.
You staggered to your feet, wiped the blood from the corner of your mouth, and spoke word by word:
"Sir, I, I said, I am an honorary Aryan."
You tried your best to suppress the fear in your eyes and looked at him as calmly as possible.
"I will never die quietly. Even if I die, my family will never let go of those who hurt me."
Jonas rarely encountered a lowly person who would resist. You left him speechless for a moment, and after a few seconds, he recovered his senses in surprise. This bitch, how dare you threaten him?
Just as he unfastened the buckle of his holster and was about to draw his gun, the door of the compartment was suddenly kicked open by an external force.
After Yuri kicked the door open, he glanced at you worriedly and stood aside again, only to be greeted by a dusty Feintz.
"Sir"
Jonas immediately picked up his military cap from the ground, dusted it off, put it back on, straightened his messy clothes, stood at attention, and saluted.
As soon as you saw him, your face turned cold.
You reached out to wipe away your tears, not only making your hands wet and sticky, but also getting dust on your face, leaving it covered in patches of gray, white, and red.
Seeing your miserable state, Feinz's eyes flashed with gloom. He walked towards you without any intention of avoiding suspicion and hugged you in his arms.
"Yina?" He called you softly first, and after making sure you were not substantially hurt, he said:
"Jonas, you've got the wrong person. This is my wife."
Your ankle was injured when you first came here, and you just forced yourself to say a lot of "harsh words", so you were already in pain and couldn't stand for a long time. So as soon as he hugged you in his arms, you immediately leaned against him tightly.
Feinz noticed your snuggling closer and paused for a moment, hugging you tighter.
"My wife is an honorary Aryan"
Feints showed Jonas the ID in his pocket, but Jonas clearly didn't believe it. He wanted to take this opportunity to bring Feints down, or at least to severely injure him.
"Hmph, sir, but she used hair dye! Look at the ends of her hair, they're brown! A disgusting brown! She's not a noble Aryan at all, she's a half-blood pig in disguise! I have reasonable grounds to suspect you're secretly hiding a y.v. woman!"
Hearing this, Feinz looked down at you in his arms. He loosened his hold on you and removed the pin that held the armband on his arm. Using his hand as a comb and the armband as a hairband, he had your hair tied into a loop in a few strokes.
After completing a set of movements, he replied with a sullen face:
"Jonas, there must be something wrong with your eyes. My wife has blonde hair and blue eyes. Look carefully, where does the brown come from?"
It's a typical Western version of the story of covering one's ears and stealing the bell.
"Commander Kalman!" Jonas raised his voice.
"That's enough! If you still have any questions, feel free to report me to the General and have the Bloodline Examination Department investigate! I'll be there for you to the end!"
Feinz held you in his arms, and when he saw you limping after him, he picked you up and carried you sideways. Before he took you out of the cubicle, he stopped and warned you.
"Today's incident will not be let go just like that! From now on, please be more respectful to my wife!"
When he said the words "my wife", he deliberately emphasized the tone.
It's funny, when he's angry and violent, he likes to call you "Schwein" and doesn't treat you as a real person, but he just can't stand others humiliating you in front of him.
I don’t know if he really cares about you at all, or if he just feels that your relationship is tied up now, and your humiliation is actually a slap in his face.
As soon as he left, Jonas couldn't hold back any longer. He cursed furiously and kicked a nearby chair frantically. Everyone in the room knew that the general and his father, von Kármán, were close friends!
The Junkers are the vampires of the Empire! A bunch of self-righteous, arrogant old landowners! Sooner or later, they will be dealt with one by one!
…
You nestled exhausted in Feynman's arms, lost in his overwhelming scent, and felt his footsteps pause in your drowsiness.
You slightly raised your head from his arms, only to find that most of the prisoners in the racetrack had disappeared, leaving only a few men who were still struggling and refusing to obey.
In the middle of the field, a boy was kneeling on the ground, looking at the baby lying in a pool of blood. The French police standing beside him were pressing his shoulders with their batons.
The boy turned out to be Acimon, who had come looking for you earlier in the morning.
Aciman could no longer offer any resistance, as it was completely pointless. All he could do was raise his head and glare at the passing Feints, and you in his arms, with a look of utter resentment and hatred.
No one can remain indifferent in the face of such a look. Your heart aches, your hand grabs Feints' arm, and tears flow again.
Feintz frowned and said, "Go check it out." There shouldn't be a baby here.
Yuri understood and agreed.
You know, hatred will forever be like a hard stone in Aciman's heart.
As long as he is alive, the stone will cause him pain all the time, until his soul and body are completely wiped out by it and turned into nothingness in the deep night.
Rain fell in Paris, but even the gentle drizzle couldn't wash away the injustice and sin at the racetrack. "Spring Breeze," a name steeped in poetic sentiment, was unexpectedly used to refer to an act of extermination.
Not everyone is saved like you.
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