What to do if you encounter a madman in another world (Part 40)
Different world, fictional background
Personal character design and personal world view
The male and female protagonists are not biological children
"Why are you leaving so soon..."
"Yina, brother can't delay too long. Paris still has a lot of things to deal with."
You and Emma were originally playing the spinning game in the bedroom, but when you heard what Fiennes said, you suddenly felt upset and didn't want to play the game anymore. You hugged Emma and sat on the edge of the bed.
You thought that when Schleicher mentioned the Marshal at the dinner table last night, he would wait for the Marshal to return and go to La Roche-Guyon to see him, but you didn't expect him to return to Paris so soon...
Could it be that you guessed wrong? Did he really come this time just because he missed you? If I had known, I wouldn't have quarreled with him last night and spent more time with your Emma.
"Mom - go home, miss grandpa -"
Emma put her arms around your neck, blinking her moist blue eyes, smiling sweetly and calling you. You forced a smile, hugged Emma tightly, and kissed her little forehead.
"My dear Emma, mother misses Emma too, and is so reluctant to leave her."
Feinz handed you the uniform Yuri had brought from the quartermaster's office and took Emma in his arms. You reluctantly changed into the women's uniform as well.
Your long blonde hair has not been tied up yet, but is gathered in front of you. Even the military uniform that is strictly cut according to the standard cannot hide the curves of your body, especially your pair of light blue eyes, which look very much like the royal blue of Saffle.
“Aiya!”
Emma was in her father's arms. She looked at her father and then at her mother. She found that her parents were wearing similar clothes. She was so happy that she kept clapping her two chubby hands.
"Brother, how is it? I think it fits me well..."
Feinz calmed his excited daughter in his arms and walked over to you who was looking in the mirror in front of the dressing table. His eyes were quite strange, as if they were burning with fire.
"Yina, let's go home together."
"Ah?" You turned your head, surprised, and then immediately refused. You still have the task assigned by the organization to complete.
"Brother, please abide by the rules. If you mess around, you won't be able to explain yourself to RSHA..."
You stood on tiptoe and kissed Fiennes on the cheek. He immediately freed his left hand and hugged you, not caring that Emma was still staring at her parents in a daze. He took the initiative and kissed you deeply.
You cling to them with your whole body, unwilling to separate.
…
GSTB Headquarters, 13 rue Malparu, Rouen, France
You received a system location prompt.
You followed Schleicher into the mansion in the city center and came to his office.
His office was not Spartan and simple; on the contrary, it was exquisitely decorated, with expensive decorations scattered all over his desk.
There were chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and on the wall was a huge, oppressive portrait of the man, and a group painting of solemn soldiers in iron helmets marching under a sky filled with flames and black eagles.
Schleicher sat down and gestured towards the small desk next to him where the typewriter was placed.
"So my job after joining RSHA is to be a typist?"
You glared at Schleicher. Did you really think you were a spy with a unique code name or something?
It seems you overestimated it. I guess in Schleicher's mind, being a typist in RSHA also counts as being a member of RSHA...
Schleicher burst out laughing at your confusion and sat down in his office chair.
"Yina, you want a code name, isn't that easy? Well, let me think about it," he said, stroking his chin as if he was really thinking, "how about the code name being Cat?"
Your forehead jumped when you kicked it.
You swear, you're trying your best to smile, wanting to see what he'll come up with next, even though the smile is stiff and unnatural.
"My dear Ina, don't you like 'Cat'?" Schleicher said with a serious face, slamming the table. "Then call it 'Lover'!"
"Schleicher!"
You opened your mouth to stop him, your face flushed red with anger.
What's "cat"? What's "lover"? What kind of ridiculous code names are these? When will he start to act serious?
Tsk, the teasing failed, the kitten is unhappy.
"Ina, the rule for naming intelligence spies is to appropriately draw on all possible associations around them, while also trying to eliminate the connection between the real person and the code name as much as possible."
Schleicher didn't look at you again, picked up a document on the left side of his desk and began to read it.
This document is made up of multiple files, each of which not only has a photo but also contains detailed personal information.
"The carpet in my office is so soft, and you walk silently, just like a light-footed cat. As for 'lover'..."
Schleicher looked up at you, and seeing that the bad expression on your face had eased, he raised the corners of his mouth calmly, raised his head slightly and guided you to look at the high-end Säffler porcelain on his desk.
There is a circular relief on the porcelain, which depicts a group of "naked" women holding the Bible high. However, they are covered with a thin veil, which cleverly covers the exposed parts that affect their dignified demeanor. They look both sacred and inspiring endless reverie.
"It just so happens that this porcelain on my desk was a gift from Louis XV to his lover. That's why I came up with these two code names for you."
"Oh, okay...okay..."
His explanation made sense, and you thought that maybe you had been around Schleicher for so long that you had become a little jumpy.
You pursed your lips sheepishly and sat back down awkwardly.
When you were bored before, you happened to finish reading the history of France published by the French Museum, and you knew something about Louis XV.
A foolish and incompetent king who was controlled by his lover was nicknamed "the gravedigger of feudal autocracy". He eventually made France impoverished and the royal power declined.
According to the book, during his reign, he did give his lover a lot of Sèvres porcelain. Sèvres is a famous ceramic production area in southwestern France, not far from Paris.
You flipped through the typewriter's operating instructions and were about to figure out how to use it when you heard a faint voice floating past you from diagonally in front of you.
"So, my dear Ina, between the two code names 'Cat' and 'Lover', which one do you want to choose?"
You took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
You tell yourself that he is now your direct superior, and you still need to steal information from him. You can't anger him, so you have to be patient...
No, he is just too ridiculous, you can’t stand it!
"I don't want to choose either one!"
"Okay! Then I'll call you 'Cat'!"
Schleicher ignored your refusal and then burst into laughter, looking extremely proud.
Your temples throbbed, and you had the inexplicable illusion that your actions had pleased the guy in front of you...
…
These days you have been following Schleicher as a secretary and typist.
You don't know what his responsibilities are as an RSHA envoy.
He seemed to be very idle all day long. He was never seen interrogating any suspicious people. He just dealt with some paper documents and stayed in the office from nine to five.
What's even more outrageous is that he almost tied you to his side. You have to follow him wherever he goes, even when he goes to the bathroom, you have to accompany him, making the colleagues around you look at you strangely.
Although you don't know why Schleicher did this, you know that this shows that he does not fully trust you, which has caused great trouble for you to collect the blueprints of the telephone station base.
"My dear, how could you have come to Rouen without informing me? I cried for a long time at home."
As soon as Honora entered the room, she went straight to Schleicher. She walked to the inside of the desk, leaned on it, stretched out her fingers with long nails, and hooked them on Schleicher's tie.
She was wearing heavy makeup and a red silk dress. Her golden hair was curled to frame her face. She was wearing red soft shoes, and she almost blended in with the thick crimson cut-pile carpet on the floor.
Schleicher waved to Honora, who sat down on his lap without any hesitation.
Schleicher imitated the exaggerated French accent and said, "Oh, dear Oline, please forgive me for leaving without saying goodbye. I was afraid that Count Simonetta's horns would grow too long and affect your married life, so..."
"Sir, don't mention that boring man. I've already told him that if he doesn't want his horns to be known to everyone, he should divorce me as soon as possible and just pay me alimony every month."
"Having horns on the head" is a French slang used to satirize a husband whose wife has an affair. It is equivalent to "green hat" in the Chinese context.
The two of them were chatting animatedly, seemingly ignoring you, but you didn't watch Ag flirting and joking with Schleicher, and silently lowered your head.
Ag's current behavior seems to have nothing to do with this world immersed in endless war, but you know, she is actually the most relevant.
You sit aside and flip through the French best-selling newspaper "I Am Everywhere". Every page of it is filled with endless fxs thoughts, which is disgusting.
Your thoughts raced again, and you remembered the movie Lucy your mom took you to see. The slogan at the time was "I'm everywhere," and it also happened to be a French film...
It’s a strange feeling that the same language has been used for two centuries.
"Sir, that Simonetta is not a wealthy businessman. Why would you envy him? Your father is a member of the board of directors of the Krupp Consortium. You are the one who has the most money, right?"
Honora's clear, penetrating laughter reached your ears, pulling you into the flirting across the street.
"Oline, darling, that belongs to my father. It has nothing to do with me. I'm just a wandering ghost from Berlin."
You saw Honora put her arms around Schleicher's neck, and just as she was about to kiss him, she dropped her eyes.
You were thinking about whether or not to leave, but then you started to hesitate again when you thought about what else Schleicher might do to Ag if you left.
You think there's no need for Ag to come back to Schleicher. She could just hand over Project Violet to you. There's no need to sacrifice herself for a piece of information. Alas, isn't that what all intelligence officers do...
During the war, there were a large number of female intelligence personnel because women have innate advantages over men.
They can disguise themselves as a variety of roles, such as wife, daughter, lady, madam, prostitute, attendant, nurse, cleaner, opera singer...
They can play any role with ease, conquer the enemy with their personality charm, and then try their best to obtain intelligence from the enemy.
Schleicher glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, and seeing that you looked distracted and bored, his playful spirit and desire to perform immediately disappeared.
He extended his right index finger and placed it on Honora's lips, smearing her lipstick all over her mouth in a nasty way.
"Sir..." The feigned lust in Honora's eyes was tinged with confusion.
"Oline darling, you can go now."
Schleicher pushed Honora off his legs, took a piece of paper and wiped his hands carefully with a cold expression, completely different from his frivolous appearance just now.
After Honora left, Schleicher stood up and walked over to you. He leaned on your desk and boasted inexplicably, "Ina, I've never been to a brothel."
You closed the newspaper, put your hands on your cheeks, looked at the typewriter in front of you, and remained silent for a while.
With his romantic lifestyle, he has never been there. I guess it's because someone would come to him to find him.
You weren't in the mood to pay attention to him. You continued to hold your chin in your hand, your teeth chattering as you spoke: "Don Juan would be humbled by you."
Don Juan, a Spanish nobleman, is a playboy who is romantic, amorous and plays with women in Byron's works.
Although "Don Juan" was written by a British, as someone who has read many banned books, Schleicher certainly knows what you mean.
Hearing this, Schleicher's eyebrows raised. He put his hands in his pockets, leaned down, and whispered something softly in your ear.
His hot breath brushing against your ear made your body tense up, and you instantly pulled back, a blush on your face, staring at him in disbelief, your eyes wide open.
Schleicher then laughed and continued, "Ina, if you don't believe me, we can try it."
You blinked numbly, your mind racing. What was he talking about? He said he was still a… virgin? Wait, what are you trying to say? Who wants to try it with him?
When you came to your senses, you saw his expression of success, and you felt even more that what he said was a lie and a joke.
Schleicher is becoming increasingly difficult for you to understand, just as the most obscure passages in Ulysses are becoming increasingly difficult for you to understand.
So annoying, God, please let this psychopath stay away from you...
…
The Cathedral of Saint-Maclou in Rouen is a perfect example of the combination of the 15th-century flame-patterned Gothic style and the Renaissance style. Not only is its appearance very unique, presenting a huge flame shape, but its interior also has intricate carvings.
You followed the crowd coming to church to worship, walked to the gate, and imitated the actions of the people in front of you, put your hand into the water tank, and then made a cross on your forehead, leaving a little water stain on your face.
"The immortality of a name is a secular variation of God's salvation of sinful souls. The greatest way to care for the dead is to remember their names forever. May the deceased rest in peace."
At ten o'clock sharp, the worship service officially began. The priest delivered a memorial eulogy, and everyone faced the priest and prayed silently and devoutly.
As the church bells ring, the lost name is called again by a loving voice, and the solemn church is filled with the echoes of love and longing.
Lai, Mommy misses you so much. Be a good boy in the other world, don't blame Mommy, and don't... don't resent Daddy...
Mom will never forget my baby, Lai. Mom has never forgotten you. You should also come to see me in my dreams often. I haven't dreamed of Lai for a long time...
The prayer ended and the crowd dispersed. You wiped your tears and handed the miniature camera to Onora, who seemed to have passed you by accidentally while moving around.
As you exit the church, you'll see Schleicher waiting for you in his military uniform. He loathes Christianity and doesn't believe in God, so he won't even set foot inside a church.
Schleicher saw the redness in the corners of your eyes and knew that you had been crying hard while praying.
You came out today under the pretext of praying for Lai.
"Ina, I feel sorry for Lai. If you don't mind, I think we can..."
Schleicher was about to comfort you when a gunshot rang out from behind you.
You were frightened and cried out slightly, but the passers-by seemed to be accustomed to this scene and continued to walk quickly with their heads down.
You turned your head behind you and saw a soldier holding a rifle with white smoke coming out of it, and a white dove lying blood-red beside the road.
"Don't be afraid, Kitten. Our people have killed a British spy."
Schleicher held your hand, pulled you forward, and said something strange in a nonchalant tone, and you couldn't tell if he was making a veiled complaint.
"What nonsense are you talking about again..."
You are a little confused, thinking that Schleicher may have been too nervous recently and has to label everything he sees as a spy.
The corners of Schleicher's mouth twitched, and it was unclear whether he was laughing or angry. He stopped a carriage and took you back to the headquarters.
…
You sit at the desk where your typewriter is placed, looking at the blinds opposite you. The spring breeze blows in from the English Channel, but it does not bring any vitality, but instead brings a sense of loneliness like the autumn wind.
You've been feeling uneasy lately, and I wonder if it's because the war is approaching.
You only remember that the Normandy Landing was in June, but you can't remember the exact date.
System, is my baby Emma okay?
[Host, your daughter has caught a seasonal cold, and your brother-husband is taking care of her at the Ritz Hotel.]
Huh? Is my daughter okay? Is she just sick? Did she have a fever? Is she okay now?
[Yes, the fever has subsided. Host, you don't have to worry.]
Oh...thank you...
Wait, what were you talking about? What do you mean by brother and husband? Why do I feel like you're being sarcastic?
[Host, I am just stating the objective facts.]
You were about to continue talking to the system when you were interrupted by an angry voice from the side.
"Please tell my father that I will go immediately. If he still has his dead wife in his heart, if he still cares about his unfortunate son, please don't interfere with my divorce application!"
Schleicher hung up the phone. The last few words of "divorce application" were distorted due to excessive anger, making it difficult for others to hear the tone.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, and he angrily pushed everything on the desk to the ground with his hands.
With a loud clanging sound, the expensive Saffle porcelain shattered into pieces in an instant. The perfect work of art was so fragile that the fragments could never be put back together to their original appearance.
"What's wrong? Why are you so angry all of a sudden? Where are you going?"
You were frightened by Schleicher.
Schleicher scowled as he walked towards you, his black leather boots crushing the shards of porcelain into powder.
He pressed you down on the chair, one hand wrapped around your waist, the fingertips of the other hand brushed your lips inadvertently, and one of his long legs half-knelt on the cushion where you were sitting.
Schleicher's pair of ice-blue eyes turned completely red, and the red marks spread like a plague. When you get close to him, you will find that his eyelashes are so long that they look like butterfly wings.
"Go to hell."
Those few words revealed the speaker's distaste for their destination. He lowered his legs, letting go of you. The redness in his icy blue eyes faded, and he regained his composure.
"But I will obey the orders of the Führer and my father and turn it into a paradise."
ah?
What's going on? What hell? What paradise?
Where is he going?
"Kitten, I'm leaving France this afternoon. The mission is special, so I can't take you with me, and Fair wouldn't agree. I'll apply to headquarters, and RSHA will give you a long vacation."
Schleicher put his hands on his hips and began to pace. "The train line from Rouen to Paris was blown up by those damned Frenchmen. The railway department is repairing it. You go back to the manor first. When it's repaired, you can go back to Paris immediately."
You stood up, analyzing Schleicher's words in your mind. It seemed that Schleicher was sent to a place he really disliked, otherwise he would not call it "hell".
He must have a bad relationship with his father, and you silently sympathized with him for a second, but the thought of returning to Paris and seeing your brother and daughter made you happy again.
Schleicher saw you, like a cat with its fur stroked, secretly showing a relaxed and comfortable expression, which made him feel hurt, and then he felt furious.
You noticed red flashing in his ice-blue eyes again, not knowing what had offended him. Just as you were about to ask nervously, Schleicher suddenly laughed at himself.
He turned around, his back alone, and picked up the badge from the debris on the ground. He carefully wiped off the blue and white powder on the badge, as if he was protecting a treasure.
From childhood to adulthood, he was the one who was not chosen. Only the Führer chose him. He would never let the Führer down.
There will be no scandal in the empire.
…
The carriage drove towards the outskirts of Rouen, avoiding the unexploded howitzer shells buried in the paving stones with their tips exposed, and stopped in front of an abandoned, neglected villa with a pointed roof.
Bouvard sat on the stool with a serious expression, watching Honora trying desperately to persuade you.
He was dressed in the trousers and shirt of a French peasant, his dark eyes as sharp as ever, and his steady gait and erect frame betrayed his former military background.
Honora was extremely puzzled by your refusal. She paced around the room and finally decided to let Bouvard leave you two alone.
"Ina, listen, you have to leave! Lizzie will come pick you up tonight! What are you hesitating about!"
You looked like you were about to cry. You really didn't expect that on the eve of the war, London would issue a transfer order asking you to go back immediately.
"Ag, I...I really can't leave yet. My daughter, I...I can't leave her in France..."
"Zn, she's not your daughter, she's NC's child! All of this is just to complete the mission, you shouldn't have any feelings!"
Honora showed signs of getting angry, and her last words were full of obvious reproach.
"Do you understand how much effort the comrades from the Fifth Department, the Double Tenth Committee, and our Royal Air Force put in to ensure Lizzie's successful landing in the suburbs of Rouen today?"
You opened your mouth to speak, but your lips trembled for a long time and nothing came out. Your mind was in a mess and you didn't know what to do.
"Zn, do you know that your hesitation will expose your comrades' disguise? Every second you hesitate is putting their lives at risk..."
Honora was tired, and her tone of voice gradually softened. She slumped in the chair and rested for a few seconds, then her eyes became sharp again.
"Zn, please recite the organization's oath again!"
"I...I will loyally obey the Sovereign of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, the Prime Minister of the British Empire, and the people...I...I will diligently observe the laws and strictly...strictly carry out orders..."
Your hands are constantly clenching into fists and unclenching them. A comrade may lose his life because of your hesitation. No, Ina, you can't be so selfish.
…
The moonlight flows across the earth like mercury, and the wind from the English Channel blows across the huge Dover Rock like white mousse, winding and soft, the most ambiguous expression between heaven, earth and ocean.
Through the plane window, the trees and houses outside the window were rapidly receding. When the fuselage of the Lysander touched the ground and made the first vibration, cheers instantly resounded inside and outside the cabin.
You sincerely thanked the Royal Air Force captain who risked his life to pick you up, and after getting off the plane, Lysander was driven to turn around and head towards the hangar.
Under the guidance of the guide, you took a transfer vehicle to the strategic reserve hall.
There was almost no sound in the hall. The war had completely silenced the usual noise and conversation. The huge haze had completely silenced everyone's voice, and an anxious silence enveloped everything.
You stand at a loss in the hall, not feeling at all like you're home, completely consumed by the fear of the unknown.
You talk to the system in your mind: You don't know everything about Yvette's past. What should you do now? Should you grab someone and ask them how to leave the reserve hall? But after you leave, where should you go? Where is Yvette's home in London?
You stood there, not moving.
A roar that could not be ignored was heard in the distance. A black Wolseley sedan followed the dim blue control lights and entered the strategic reserve base without slowing down. It suddenly braked, making a sharp sound as it rubbed against the ground.
You looked towards the side door following the sound and saw a figure in a black suit striding across the hall towards you, with people constantly stopping to salute him along the way.
You looked around in confusion, and surprisingly, there was no one else there. Just as you were wondering, the man had already stood in front of you and hugged you.
Hurley hugged you tightly. The alienation and confusion in your eyes completely swallowed up your long-standing forbearance and rationality. He leaned over and kissed you desperately.
You felt a loud bang in your head, as if all the blood in your body rushed to your head in an instant. You began to struggle violently, but he just held you tighter.
The whimper choked in the throat was forced into a response by the fierce kiss, and the pulsation between the two hearts was impossible to ignore, as if they were sharing an intimate relationship.
The inseparable scene made people walking back and forth in the strategic reserve hall stop in their tracks, but Hurley was oblivious to the people around him and was kissing you like crazy.
The intrusion of a stranger of the opposite sex magnified his fear of the unknown. The tears trapped in the tear film overflowed, blurring everything, and he soon felt the wetness on his face.
Hurley stopped kissing you, and you grabbed his back in exhaustion. As both of you gasped for breath, he leaned over and kissed away the tears that had not yet rolled down your eyes.
The moist and scattered light blue pupils finally came back to focus and looked straight at the face of the person in front of him. In his mind, this face gradually overlapped with the face in the dream, blending them together perfectly.
You finally called out his name: "Heer..."
"My dear Ina, welcome home."
Schleicher: Okay, okay, I'm exiled again, right?
Ina will come back to see her brother in the next chapter. The male protagonist's blackening value has reached 100%.
Edited version of the main text, the hidden ending of the return gift can unlock the entire chapterbr>
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