What to do if you encounter a madman in another world (Part 41)
Different world, fictional background
Personal character design and personal world view
The male and female protagonists are not biological children
Gwendon House, London, England.
The study is located on one side of the main room on the second floor. It is very spacious and is decorated with busts and oil paintings. On the desk stands a silver vase with several roses blooming beautifully, their petals so gorgeous that they are tempting to the touch.
The window faces the large lawn outside, which is manicured like a golf course, and under the window is a rattan chair covered with a cashmere blanket.
You looked at the words Dietrich had left in the notebook. The handwriting was as bold as you remembered. For a moment, you thought of the letter he had written to Yvette, and all kinds of thoughts and emotions kept churning in your mind.
"How could there be such a class and such a nation in this world, where there is no slavery, no oppression, no distinction between black, white, and Jewish people, all are equal, and everyone possesses a rational spirit of freedom and independence."
"I was eager to go to the Soviet Union and explore what it was like. The earth-shaking scenes that filled my mind were all the kind of close relationships between people described in socialist literature."
Paragraph after paragraph, full of hidden thoughts, bring to life the image of a young man who harbors lofty ideals, puts them into practice, and even sacrifices his life for them.
You slowly closed your notebook, leaned over the windowsill, and looked at the endless lawn not far away.
These days you've been gradually untangling Yvette's complex web of relationships in London.
Dietrich's mother Fanny and Yvette's mother Mia are sisters. Fanny met a wealthy British man who came to Germany to do business, and the two quickly fell in love. Later, Fanny came to London to settle down and married Campbell, who was a widow with a six-year-old son.
So, Dietrich and Yvette are cousins with a common grandparent, while Hurley and Dietrich are half-brothers.
After Oldenburg's policies tightened, Mia did not take Yvette to Belgium, but chose to go to her sister in London...
After the rain, the lawn filled with rainwater was as soft as wet velvet, and a group of children were playing and fighting on the grass.
This place is just like a fairyland in a fairy tale. There is no fear, no hunger. Even if the air raid sirens sound, bombs will never fall here. The tracks left by the bombers in the sky can only be regarded as the spice of life.
There is even a horse racing track on the south side of the manor's backyard. If you want, you can ride on a saddle horse with shiny mane in the next second.
It turns out that this is the real lifestyle of the British aristocracy and landowner class during the war. They live in a wonderland, and the world being destroyed outside has nothing to do with them.
You were thinking to yourself when someone ruffled your hair and a voice rang in your ear: "Are you feeling better today?"
"You're back..."
You tilt your head. Hurley must have just returned, still wearing a classic British black suit. His tone is full of intimacy and familiarity, a kind of intimate consideration that can make any girl blush and her heart beat faster.
You don't know how to deal with your relationship with him. That passionate kiss was not a dream. You don't want to bear the past feelings of Yvette, but you still can't avoid facing it.
Hurley's hand stayed on the back of your head for a few seconds, and as if he noticed your slight resistance, he withdrew it gentlemanly.
His eyes lingered on the notebook in your hand, and years of separation had already made his emotions restrained.
"Dick longed to go there, so he went to the Soviet Union and worked and studied there for over three months. He always believed that through communist-style agricultural labor, a paradise on earth would emerge."
"I know. He...his brother wrote to me..."
You whispered, hanging your head deeply.
No wonder when you called out "brother" in the interrogation room in the basement of Senever Castle, Dietrich suddenly ignored his injuries and struggled passionately...
It turns out he thought you were calling him, it turns out he thought you were scared, and he wanted to stand up and protect his sister...
You choked up and your eyes gradually turned red.
"I'm...I'm sorry..."
If the real Yvette had witnessed all of that, she would have been devastated... Her brother had killed her cousin... Why did blood ties always have to be tied up with the enemy...
"Yina, no one will blame you for this. You have done well enough."
Hurley stretched out his arms, hugged you gently, and whispered softly in your ear. This kind of inclusive comfort unsurprisingly turned your guilt into grievance and relief.
It turns out you have family in London too.
…
MI6 Headquarters, 52 Broadway Building, London, England.
British Intelligence, an agency dating back to the days of Queen Elizabeth I and her trusted chief secretary, Sir Francis, is housed in the Victorian Broadway business building opposite St. James's tube station.
People from all walks of life were coming and going in the headquarters, many of them in military uniforms or civilian clothes, walking hurriedly, carrying brown paper bags or small suitcases containing radios.
The air around me was filled with the clatter of leather boots on the marble floor, the sound of greetings, and the beeping of telegrams.
You stood quietly in the waiting room waiting for Hurley, staring down at your toes, immersed in your own world. Everything busy and tense around you seemed to have nothing to do with you.
This is what Hurley saw when he came out of the office. He looked at you for a moment, then walked over and stopped in front of you. A shadow appeared in front of you, and you looked up.
"Sorry, was it long?"
You shook your head. Actually, you were afraid just now, afraid of meeting someone acquaintance. You had no memory of Yvette, and you were afraid that saying one more word would reveal a flaw.
Fortunately, I didn't run into her. But then I thought, those who knew Yvette must be comrades in the organization. They are either still fighting on the front lines, or have long since passed away. Only you returned on the eve of the war...
"Ina, I've already explained the situation to the person in charge of the Double Tenth Committee. The investigation into you can be terminated. Chief Glenn is attending an important meeting in Whitehall, so I won't be able to see him for the time being."
The Double Ten Committee refers to the Double Ten Committee, an agency established to regulate the double-agent system and the first and only government agency named after a pun on a Roman numeral.
Although you did not take any substantive action after nominally joining RSHA, for safety reasons, you still accepted a comprehensive investigation by the organization after returning to London, ranging from ideological loyalty to completed task indicators.
"Well, thank you...thank you..."
Hurley took your hand. His hand was broad and big, his palm soft, and the reassuring warmth from his fingertips quickly warmed your whole body.
"Yina, relax, don't be afraid, we are family, this is London."
…
You have been feeling increasingly uneasy lately and asked the system about Emma's recent situation, but the system no longer responds to you.
When will the Allies land in Normandy? You just hope that the Allies will land quickly and end this terrible war quickly.
"Heer, do you... do you know the landing time?"
Hurley was sitting on the sofa, wearing a neat and clean British pinstripe shirt. When he heard your question, he put aside the copy of Great Expectations in his hand.
"Want to know?"
He turned to look at you, his elbow resting on the back of the couch, his hand resting on his forehead.
ah……
You suddenly feel stupid. This should be top secret and can't be told to outsiders...
Besides, what is Hurley's position in the Sixth Division? Ever since you returned to London, he's been at home with you most of the time and doesn't seem to have been to the Sixth Division much. It's probably not a very high position, so he probably doesn't know...
Just when you started to lose focus again, Hurley stopped communicating with you in German and started speaking English instead. His voice was low and magnetic. By the time the last syllable of the sentence ended on the tip of his tongue, you were completely shocked.
"Iwasonasummer'sday,thesisthofJune.Iliketobeparticularindates,notonlyoftheage,andyear,butmoon.Theyareasortofposthouse,wheretheFates.Changehorses,makinghistorychangeitstune."
You stared at Hurley in shock, unable to believe that he had actually told you everything without any reservation.
“I just don’t want my sweet little girl to feel distressed,” he wrapped his arms around you, rubbing the worry and anxiety away from your forehead.
"I want that frown to be wiped away from her brow forever."
You don't know how to answer, your mind goes blank.
German, English, or any other language, all dissolved silently at this moment like sugar poured into water.
It was a summer day, June 6th. I wish to be as exact as possible about the date, not only the century and the year, but even the month.
Because dates are like post stations where the god of fate changes horses and history changes its tune.
Your tense body slowly relaxed, and you leaned against Hurley meekly, letting his hands stroke your blonde hair, your mind full of thoughts.
It turns out that the first chapter of "Don Juan" had already given the answer that the empire dreamed of knowing.
…
You turn on the faucet. The bathroom faucet is a silver Venus carrying a silver vase, which is very artistic. When the water is about to reach the human body's balance point, you adjust the water temperature and turn off the faucet.
The water in the bathtub rippled gently. You dropped some essential oil into it, sprinkled some rose petals on it, took off the rose necklace and placed it in the jewelry box, then stepped into the bathtub filled with hot water.
You leaned against the bathtub, the rose petals in front of you dancing in the water, glowing pink.
After the successful landing, Paris should be liberated soon. At that time, Feinz and his father should retreat to Berlin. Soon, the war will be over and you can really go home...
I wonder how your Emma is doing now. She must be missing her mother since she can’t see her...
System, is my Emma okay? Is her cold completely gone?
【Zizizi... (electrical sound)】
You lowered your eyes, touched the wedding ring on your left ring finger, and tried to calm the vague uneasiness in your heart.
You habitually wear your wedding ring upside down, with the diamond side facing the palm of your hand. Although the diamond is not stained with water, it is stained with fog. You take off the wedding ring. The lacquer on the inside of the wedding ring is shiny due to the water, and the water droplets leave clear lines after passing through the tiny depressions.
You widened your eyes, sat up straight in the bathtub, raised your wedding ring, and following the light from above, you could clearly see the tiny words permanently engraved on the inside of the ring:
Damibasiamille
It was actually engraved...
The ring Feynman gave you was engraved with words. Why did you only discover it now?
Your heart is beating so hard, this isn't German, nor is it French, it's probably Latin...
You were eager to know the meaning of this sentence, so you put the ring on your hands backwards again, got up from the bathtub, grabbed the towel next to you and wiped yourself, changed your clothes, and without caring that your hair was still wet covering your forehead, you hurried to the study.
The bookshelves reaching the ceiling are filled with various books classified into different categories. The spines of the books are either red or gold, heavy and quite impressive. There is also an etching by the Dutch painter Rembrandt on the support platform at the side of the bookshelf.
Latin...
I should be looking for registers from the ancient Roman period...
You stood on tiptoe and pulled out a collection of ancient Roman poetry from the bookshelf, your eyes quickly searching through line after line of Latin sentences. When you were about to finish the book, you realized that your behavior was really stupid.
Putting aside the fact that this sentence may not be in the collection of poems, you are simply looking for a needle in a haystack...
Your pounding heart still hasn't calmed down, as if there is a divine guidance from the unknown. At the moment when you are about to close the book and give up, you stop and glance at the words in the corner that are exactly the same as the ones engraved on the inside of your wedding ring.
Damibasiamille, it really is a line from a poem, but what exactly does it mean...
You took the book and ran downstairs.
As expected, Hurley was sitting on the sofa.
He was drinking warm whiskey and soda, and in his hand was still the same old Dickens masterpiece that he loved so much - "Great Expectations".
"Yina, why don't you blow dry your hair before coming down? You'll get sick."
He heard the sound and looked in your direction, frowning slightly.
"Heer, what does this mean?"
You hurriedly sat down next to him, pointed to the line in the ancient Roman poetry collection, and asked him, your eyes sparkling with secret expectations.
"A poem from the Cantos by the ancient Roman lyric poet Catullus."
Hurley glanced down, his voice gentle, and then he took the book from your hand, held your right hand with his big hand, and pointed to the poems one by one in order.
"'Da' means do, dare, give, or give."
You nodded and said to yourself, Da, give.
"'mi', me, me, basia, is a kiss"
Basia, kiss... The outline of a love poem has clearly emerged, and your heart is beating even more irregularly.
"mille, means thousand"
After Hurley translated the last word, he looked up at you, his eyes gradually glowing with a fiery light, like the orange-red clouds in the dusk sky, illuminating the misty dust, as if burning.
Damibasiamille……
So what this means is...
"Give me a thousand kisses..."
After he finished speaking in your ear, he grabbed your arm and moved closer to your face, covering your two pink lips. His tongue effortlessly slipped into the gap between your teeth that were parted in surprise.
The kiss was soft, like waves gently lapping against the shore, and you felt as if you were in the midst of a deep blue tide, an invisible wave that was slowly creeping upwards, drowning your vision and constantly enveloping you.
From the initial attempt to explore that secret place, to the relentless pursuit, and then to the tacit entanglement, the aura was intertwined in a disorderly manner, and the memories of the past flashed before his eyes like a kaleidoscope.
I am used to using kisses instead of words. My kiss is like a flame coming out from the bottom of my heart...
elder brother……
The moisture in your pupils quickly subsided, and you found yourself leaning back on the sofa, with that soft golden hair crawling in front of your chest, worshiping it, and kissing it.
"I'm...I'm sorry..."
Hurley stopped and raised his head. His long breath was close at hand, as gentle and cold as he was.
You panted, timidly grasped his wrist, your light blue eyes filled with begging.
The gaze that is looking straight at you is clearly that of a ferocious beast that is about to bite the throat of its prey in the previous second, but it becomes clear and lucid again in the next second.
"It's okay. I was in a hurry. I should have cleaned my little girl's hair first."
He stood up, fastened your silk pajamas with the buttons undone, then carried you to the bathroom, wiped you, and helped you blow dry your hair slowly.
…
In the dead of night, you wake up from your dream.
You lie on the pillow, and the scenes of the lost lives are replayed in front of your eyes intermittently. In the dream, you seem to be the most helpless bystander.
You have clearly woken up from a terrible dream, but you feel like you have fallen into a nightmare again.
In a trance, you heard Emma's cry, like an abandoned little animal calling for its mother.
System, what happened to my Emma?
【Zizizi... (electrical sound)】
Please... please tell me how my Emma is doing now...
[Host, I'm sorry, your daughter has caught a seasonal cold.]
Didn't you say Emma's fever has gone down?
Fear is like a black shadow that slowly crawls from the ground to the bed, covering your whole body, and anxiety and panic fill your heart.
[Host, I'm sorry, the high fever has recurred and has developed into pneumonia.]
Your heart suddenly feels like it's been grabbed by someone.
system……
My daughter, it's going to be okay, right...
Silence, a soundless, stagnant silence.
…
The maid sets the table for you and breakfast is a true old English tradition of cornflakes, bacon, toast, marmalade, eggs and a few fried mushrooms.
BBC radio is broadcasting the latest battle situation, encouraging the entire army and calling on the entire nation.
"Currently, our 7th Armored Division is advancing rapidly towards Villers-Boges, southwest of Caen... The eyes of the world are focused on these brave and fearless young people. Please pray for them!... Eradicate the tyranny of the North Korean regime and defend the free world!"
"Hell..."
Hurley put down the newspaper in his hand. He saw your awkwardness, but still said in a gentle voice: "Yina, I'm waiting for you to have breakfast together."
"I want to go back to Paris."
You told him with a clenched fist, but his fist was clenched even tighter than yours.
"That's impossible."
"I... I can go back and continue the mission... Hel, my daughter, she's still there... I can't..."
"Yina, this is impossible. Please don't make me say it again. Now, what you need to do is eat."
Hurley stood up and pulled out a chair for you. Under the pressure of his gaze, you sat down and silently drank a mouthful of corn porridge, but your light blue eyes had turned a moist red.
The next day, Hurley discovered that you had begun a hunger strike.
The feeling of hunger had long been replaced by uneasiness, and it seemed as if blood was no longer flowing in your veins. The longing and worry for Emma surpassed everything, and you had a feeling of lightness that you had never felt before.
"Yina, you make me sad."
He held you in his arms, comforting you and counseling you softly.
"Her, please, I want to go back to Paris... I can't live without Emma. I have already lost Lai, and I can't lose Emma again. She is in pain now. My daughter needs her mother..."
You leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips, but Hurley pulled away.
"Without Lancaster escort, without mechanized troops, there will be no one to protect you. You will pass through the war zone and there is always the risk of being questioned and arrested."
"If you're lucky, you might just be captured to supplement the Red Cross's insufficient medical resources; if you're unlucky, you might be blown off by a bomb and lose your arms and legs."
He was calmly stating the horrible facts, and there were even more horrible things that he had yet to say.
"I'm not afraid..." A hormone called maternal love has taken over your entire mind, "He Er... I, I will wait for you in Paris... Paris will be liberated soon, and then..."
"Ina, Paris will be liberated soon, why can't we wait a little longer..."
Hurley looked at you and spoke quietly to you, and also to himself.
His focused look further highlighted the smooth and deep features of his face, until he lowered his head and bit your lips, and your eyelashes trembled and brushed against his face.
This kiss turned back to the passionate kiss you two had when you returned to London - the real intersection of lips and teeth, like the heavy night, almost swallowing people up.
Your whole body becomes sensitive in this unruly sucking, and you actively try to please him like a lover, until you are entangled with him and unable to escape, and it is difficult to breathe.
"Emma is everything to me. I will die if I can't see my daughter."
Your lips pressed against his cheek, breathing heavily, the blood surging through your body unable to control the roar of hormones. You tilted your head back, your eyes timid, but your gaze determined.
This stubborn, willful, and reckless look is very much like you at fifteen, when you wanted to follow Dick to join the Sixth Department, and you coquettishly hugged his arm and said, "Brother Hull, I will die if I don't go to the Sixth Department."
At that time, to you, Department 6 was just a mysterious organization in a 007 movie.
Hurley hugged you tighter, his big hands gripping your arms even tighter, almost digging into your flesh.
Pain was hidden in your light blue eyes, and in great anxiety, you finally waited for his answer.
"Ilovedheragainstreason,againstpromise,againstpeace,againstthope,againstthappiness,againstdiscouragementthatcouldbe."
My love for her goes against common sense, hinders my future, loses my self-control, shatters my hopes, ruins my happiness, and is destined to experience all kinds of frustration and disappointment.
The page of "Great Expectations" lying on the table contains Pip's heartfelt words to Estella, at that moment, just like now.
…
The weather in London was still gloomy, with dark clouds rolling in the sky and thunder roaring, as if an aerial formation was flying continuously.
It turns out that what Hurley said to you was just a threat, and he has arranged everything for you again.
Money talks. On June 13, you successfully boarded the destroyer Kelvin. Your destination was Bayeux, France, which had been liberated by the Allies. The famous Churchill and Eisenhower were in the cabin not far from you.
When they arrived in Bayeux, they were quickly met by comrades from the Double Tenth Committee. The minds of true double agents are beyond the imagination of ordinary people.
Every day you fell asleep and woke up to the sound of mortar explosions, crossed numerous blockades, and finally returned to Rouen.
When I returned, there were countless street barriers on the streets of Rouen. People dug out garden bricks and tiles and piled them at the door to defend against bullets from any force.
The trees were cut down, and the piano representing art, the sofa symbolizing life, and even the tombstone representing death were all turned into solid barriers.
The flames of war were about to reach Rouen, and people were doing everything they could to protect their loved ones.
The Eiffel Tower is looming in the thick smoke in the distance. You walk quickly in the direction of the tower towards Rouen Left Bank train station.
Yes, you must walk, walk quickly, and never run. Running means fear of danger and submission to the unknown, and this fear and submission will become the number one target of burning, killing and looting in troubled times.
The train you are on is no longer a special train serving senior military officers, but an escape train.
The carriage creaked, and the worn cushions gave off a pungent smell of cigarette smoke. You were so tired that you didn't even bother to clean off the dirty seat cushions.
Your ears are filled with chattering conversations and the sound of prayers that are everywhere, and there is a pair of eyes following you closely behind you that you have never noticed.
rumble--
With a long whistle, the train finally pulled into the Paris train station. The doors opened, but the people in the front got off the train at an unusually slow pace, causing a commotion among the crowd behind.
The long hike made you physically and mentally exhausted, and the longing for Emma aggravated your headache. You lowered your eyes, raised your head that was leaning against the back of the chair, simply tidied your long hair, and then got off the bus with the crowd.
It wasn't until you got out of the car that you realized something was wrong.
There are sentries all over the Paris platform. This is not uncommon in wartime, especially now facing the increasingly approaching situation of the Allied forces. This is already the most basic military deployment. But this time it is different. The sentries on the platform have been taken over by soldiers wearing black uniforms and armed with live ammunition.
"Yuri..."
You saw Yuri walking towards you, the smile on his face still unfinished when you saw a worried look in his eyes.
Yuri seemed about to say something, but before he could say anything, his eyes flinched and he and the soldiers around him turned to attention, raised their arms high, and made a deafening salute.
"HH!"
As far as the eye could see, there was a Mercedes-Benz and the extremely familiar black military uniform that got out of the car.
Feynz strode towards you with a stern look between his brows that was impossible to ignore, as if he brought the chill from hell. A fluffy French dandelion seed fell on your eyelashes, trembling.
He stopped in front of you, but his eyes glanced lightly at the faces of the French people behind you.
Wherever the wind swept past, the June air in Paris instantly froze, and the original restless sounds disappeared without a trace. Those who had not yet gotten out of the carriage looked at the changes in front of the platform in horror from the windows.
"elder brother……"
You looked at him in fear, your lips trembling slightly with fear and anxiety, and the words you spoke immediately melted into the breeze along with the white steam before they reached other people's ears.
Feynz slowly pinched your face, his hands carrying a force that could not be refused, causing you to cry in pain.
He leaned over, breathing so close to her, and the chill brought by the contact of the cold leather gloves was far less than the feeling of falling into an icy cave brought by his next words.
"You've treated me like a fool for so long, aren't you feeling pretty proud?"
Discovered...?!
The warmth from your body was immediately robbed, leaving no trace, and your face turned terrifyingly pale in an instant.
It seems that he is disgusted with you to the extreme, and he is unwilling to even give you a glance, and turns around to leave.
Before the German soldier came forward to arrest you, you grabbed the cuff of his military uniform in panic. Your fingers that were pulling at his cuffs kept exerting force, and white turned on the joints of your slender fingers.
"Where's Emma?"
Feinz looked down indifferently at the hand you were holding. The red scratches on his hand were clearly visible. He paused for a moment, but then threw a word at you mercilessly.
A word like the sharpest knife, cutting into your flesh and blood, causing hot blood to continuously flow out.
"Dead."
Dead…dead…?
The nightmare you'd been dreaming of for days had come true, the final straw that broke the camel's back. You struggled to open your mouth, but the blood in your mouth muffled your words.
In a trance, you seem to hear someone calling your name, but then there is a huge buzzing sound in your ears, and all the sounds around you die down. You feel dizzy, and you lose your last point of support, falling straight to the side.
There was no sound of a heavy fall to the ground.
On the contrary, the whole world turned dark.
As black as the black military uniform, heavy and gloomy like a crow with folded wings.
There was a whirring sound in my ears, but I couldn't tell whether it was from running or shouting.
Your eyelids were too heavy to lift, and you completely passed out in his arms.
Small Theater
When his wife was in a coma, his brother asked: Where’s the military doctor?! Where’s the military doctor?! Why isn’t my wife awake yet?!
The brother of his wife after she woke up: (face changes in a second) (indifferent) (cold) I want to go downstairs to see my daughter, are you worthy?
Who knows, I really love German bones
A preview of the next chapter,
Chapter 42: Choice: Choose One
Edited version of the main text, the hidden ending of the return gift can unlock the full version of this chapterbr>
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