What to do if you encounter a madman in another world (Twenty-nine)
Please review it carefully, thank you very much orz
A different world, a fictional setting! It has nothing to do with the real world!!
Private character design, private world view design, private names and place names design
The male and female protagonists are not biological children
At night, Emma was lying on the bed, kicking the blanket restlessly. You sat by the bed, covering her belly with a thin blanket, humming a lullaby, and fanning her lovingly to dispel the oppressive summer heat.
After Emma fell asleep, you tiptoed to the nursery door and half-closed it. Mandy had also gone to bed, but you didn't feel like sleeping, so you took the fabric bag and went downstairs.
Because electricity is relatively precious, you didn't turn on the lights. Instead, you lit the candles on the candelabra in the living room, sat on the leather sofa, turned on the Philips radio, tuned it to the military station, and lowered the volume.
You originally wanted to listen to the latest developments on the front line, but the radio was playing a waltz by the Austrian genius composer Johann Strauss. The melody was not only relaxing, dreamy, modern, casual and lively, but the gentle and lyrical string music was also very pure.
You pull the ball of thread, and the metal needles collide. Although your hands are constantly moving, your thoughts have already drifted away.
Sally said that she and Chief Glenn trust you, but she didn't mention other people in the organization. Does this mean that there is no consensus within the organization about your attitude?
You still remember the wary looks everyone gave you when you first arrived at the new base. Reciting the oath should have been a test of your current character, but you missed this opportunity to "prove your innocence."
You are in another world and originally thought that the organization could be your solid fortress, but you didn't expect that you are just an ordinary link in the intelligence gathering assembly line.
Just when you were still worrying about your situation, someone suddenly tapped you on the forehead.
"Ina, what are you thinking about?"
You looked up and saw a pair of extremely beautiful eyebrows and eyes.
Feintz, wearing a military uniform, sat on the sofa against the light. His movement brought a gentle and urgent breeze, causing the candle flame to float to one side.
The mottled light and shadows cast on his face, making his already handsome and three-dimensional features even more angular, and unsurprisingly exuding a rich texture of ancient Greek oil paintings.
"I didn't think anything..."
He had already anticipated your negative answer; he knew you were lost in thought again. The clothes you knitted were full of mistakes, with loose threads and missing stitches in many places. It was nothing like your usual meticulous knitting, but he didn't want to expose you.
There was a hint of joy in Feynman's voice. After calling you, he looked at you motionlessly, the blue in his eyes becoming deeper, even surpassing the blue holes in Capri.
"Brother, what's wrong?"
You feel a little strange, as his whole demeanor seems to be silently asking you what is different about him today.
Oh, he didn't bring his military cap? No, he must have taken it off after returning home...
The rhythm of the waltz is light, rising and falling gently like waves. It is unwilling to be just background music, but floats into your ears, and the places where the sound passes become especially soft.
"My dear Ina, Strauss's music is so suitable for dancing. We can't waste this melody. Dance with your brother."
He picked up the fabric bag from your legs and placed it on the coffee table, then pulled you to the center of the living room. Before you could react, he put his arms around your waist and led you up to the rhythm of a slow four.
The space in the living room is limited, and he holds you in his arms and dances with you to the slow four, a very small dance step. You unconsciously put your hands on his shoulders.
For a moment, you forcibly turned the elegant and romantic waltz into a close dance where you both leaned on each other.
The two of you were pressed closely together, your eyes slightly raised and lingering, and only then did you notice the changes on his uniform collar. Although it was still the herringbone twill epaulettes, there was an obvious diamond symbol in the middle.
Got promoted again?
"Brother, Lieutenant Colonel?"
"Um."
His grip on your waist tightened, and his gaze grew even more intense, like a child who wanted to share his joy and was eager to be praised.
You felt quite embarrassed by his gaze, so you just gently kissed his chin as a simple gift to congratulate him on his promotion.
"Yina," he said unexpectedly, actually liking this perfunctory gift. Even his tone softened, giving you goosebumps. "Without you, heaven has become hell."
After he said something that was enough to melt a person's bones, he pressed your head against his body, and his bony hands kept rubbing your back. The heat from his body penetrated the thin ice silk nightgown and went straight into your heart.
well……
Without you, heaven becomes hell...
Is it Heine's poem...
You continued subconsciously, "On your beautiful lips, I..."
Before you could finish the rest of the poem, he stopped his almost insignificant dance.
Love descends directly in the drizzle of kisses, the pounding heartbeat covers the leisurely dance music, if the kisses do not stop, you can be sure that each other's hearts will be completely destroyed, held in the heart, broken at the fingertips, burst together, and flow throughout the body.
What is love? Love is a star shrouded in the morning mist. Without you, heaven becomes hell. On your beautiful lips, I use a kiss instead of words. My kiss is like a flame from the depths of my heart.
He had never said he loved you, and he only forced you to confess your false love for him on the bed of the Adlon Hotel, but tonight he took the initiative to say to you a heart-wrenching and affectionate love poem.
this……
Is this...his disguised confession to you...
Ina, he is saying he loves you, right...
"elder brother?"
You want to confirm your suspicions.
Feinz held your face in his hands, his eyes full of affection, and his voice was filled with indescribable panic: "Yina, I..."
At this moment, the waltz music on the radio was suddenly interrupted and a clicking sound came from the side.
…
You are wearing a knee-length nightgown, sitting cross-legged barefoot on an antique mahogany chair, reading the original English version of "Gone with the Wind".
After Emma went to bed, you took a shower. Now that your hair has just dried, he is combing it carefully. The comb scratches your long hair again and again, neither too light nor too heavy, just the right amount of force, making your hair feel very comfortable.
"Yina, don't lower your head."
"oh."
You straightened your posture, raised your head, and lifted the book to eye level.
Seeing this, he laughed and said nonchalantly, "Is this book really that good? You even enjoy the time your brother spends combing your hair?"
"Yes, Scarlett is my daughter! Rhett Butler is my ideal type! This is my favorite!"
Maybe it's because his tone is too relaxed and casual, like a family chatting, making you forget the time and space you are in for a moment, and he actually uses modern words and phrases.
Feinz paused for a moment in combing your hair, then continued, his thoughts silently entangled with the blonde hair.
Treating the character in the book as your daughter, equating her with Emma, is enough to show your love for Scarlett.
As for Rhett Butler... he remembered that the movie version was played by an American man named Clark Gable, and he was extremely excited when he saw the movie poster at the Adlon Hotel.
"Ideal...type?" he asked calmly.
You felt a little tired holding the book, so you put it on your lap again, lowered your head slightly, didn't take his question seriously, and replied casually while reading the book, saying a long list of excellent adjectives in one breath.
"My ideal boyfriend should be like Rhett Butler, handsome, elegant, witty, and graceful. Of course, he should also have just the right amount of cunning! Well... being playboy is fine, but being conceited is not good either. However, you can still be proud..."
"My Ina, are you done?"
The familiar cold tone changed direction and reached your ears.
well?
Only then did you realize that the delicate and gentle force on your hair had disappeared. When you looked up again, Feinz was already half-kneeling in front of you.
He had a blank expression on his face, his blue eyes staring at you without blinking, the water in his deep eye sockets rippling silently, as if he wanted to see through you completely, but it seemed more like he was complaining with grievance.
Oh my God, Ina, were you stupid just now? You were actually introducing your ideal partner to him.
Wait...wait, he's not trying to identify himself with the person...
Well, it was obvious that not only was he trying to identify himself with the character, he also felt that he had failed. Now the golden retriever in front of him was vaguely showing signs of getting frustrated...
You quickly closed the book and placed it on your lap. You reached out and cupped his face, looking at it for a moment. Then, with a serious expression, you said to him in a serious tone:
"He's handsome, and he has aristocratic elegance. He's also witty... He wasn't good enough before, but now... it's passable, though it could be improved. His demeanor is elegant, um... that also needs improvement. As for cunning, well... there's a lot of it, though it's not quite right..."
Help, I can't continue, this is too against my will...
Ina, what stupid thing are you doing again? You are comparing him with your Rhett Butler. You may dream about Rhett Butler accusing you tonight.
"elder brother……"
You pursed your lips and gave an innocent wry smile.
"Got it," Feinz watched your performance quietly for a long time with a speechless expression, then poked you lightly between the eyebrows to show his understanding.
ah?
Know what?
…
[Place Vendôme, Paris, Ritz Hotel]
You received a system location prompt.
The waiter opened the car door for you. Your eyes had long been accustomed to seeing things in the pitch black, but when you entered the Ritz Hotel, you were dazzled by the glittering marble lobby illuminated by the crystal chandeliers.
There was a large dance floor in the center of the hall, surrounded by tables covered with white cloths, on which were placed some scattered food: stuffed pasta, steamed potatoes, leeks in vinegar sauce, fried sausages, and a roast suckling pig that was intended to show aristocratic style.
You have already eaten a few bites of dinner at home. Although you are not very hungry now, you don’t really want to socialize. So you pick up your plate and plate clip, planning to pick up some dishes from the dining table to pass the time and fill your stomach.
You are thinking as you walk.
Cordero Villegas, he should be the important person that Feints mentioned last night.
"Ma'am, ma'am? Would you like to take this fried sausage?"
ah……
You looked up and saw a blonde French beauty smiling at you politely. Only then did you realize that the tray clip in your hand was hanging on the plate with the few remaining fried sausages.
You put the clip back with a bit of embarrassment, "Sorry, I don't really want to take it. You can take it first."
"thank you."
You see that her plate is already piled high with food, and her eyes are filled with a thirst for food.
Although she was wearing a light green evening gown, she did not have any expensive jewelry on her, neither bracelets nor necklaces, and her slender fingers had no trace of rings.
Therefore, you judge that this girl should be the French women who came to the Ritz Hotel in response to the notice issued by Feynman. When you think of the meaning behind the notice, you can't help but feel pity for her.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you. My sister is still at home, and I'm going to take these back for her to try. She hasn't had sausages for a long time."
Perhaps you stared at her for a long time, and she was too embarrassed to explain herself, but afraid that you would suspect her identity, so she added a self-introduction:
"My name is Matilda Rincon, and I currently work at the Ritz Hotel..."
You saw her introduce herself and were about to say her name as a sign of respect, but the adjutant you met earlier found you and called out to you.
The adjutant told you that Feynz might be late tonight and that he could take you home first. Because you wanted to wait for him to finish the conversation and get his words out of him, you declined the offer.
After the adjutant left, Matilda's green eyes widened. After a moment's hesitation, she asked, "Are you Mrs. von Kármán? Is your child okay?"
You were about to nod in agreement, but when you heard her suddenly mention Emma, you immediately took a step back warily.
But Matilda tells you that it was she who saved Emma along the Seine. You are immediately filled with gratitude and want to cry. You thank her repeatedly and want to ask her a few more questions, but she is anxious to go home to take care of her younger sister. So you have to try your best to invite her to your home and say goodbye to her for a while.
…
On the way home.
You waited for him for too long, and then were forced to drink some Napoleon cognac at a social event. Now you feel a little dizzy, lying on your side in the back seat of the car, with your head resting on his legs.
Recently, oil drum trucks have been frequently entering and leaving Paris at night. The gravel brought from the suburbs is sucked into the wheels of Mercedes-Benz, making a rustling sound and causing the car to shake and bump slightly.
As he put the military jacket that had slipped down from covering you back on, he whispered to Yuri who was sitting in the passenger seat:
"The black gold issue is not within our jurisdiction. If they need help, we'll try to help them, but we need to leave proof. If anything goes wrong, the responsibility won't be ours."
"Yes, sir."
You want to pretend to be asleep and pretend that you didn't hear their conversation, but you are too nervous, your thick and long eyelashes can't help but tremble slightly, and even your eyelids twitch a little.
It wasn't until he put his hands over your eyes, blocking the anti-aircraft lights that occasionally came through the car window, that the terrible eye spasm stopped under the slight external pressure, and your brain had a chance to start thinking.
The edited version of the main text is 4.5k, and the hidden ending of the return gift can unlock the full version of this chapter for 10,000~
No gift record
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
