My Third Empire

Biquge www.readwn.com, update my latest chapter of the third empire as soon as possible!

On the streets of Berlin, people looked hurriedly, and the tall chimneys not far away smoked black smoke from morning to late night. The German factories are not worried about no orders. They are just worried that too many orders will still be too busy to work overtime.

This is a cold city, and pedestrians on the street rarely greet each other. They have countless things to be busy, cold iron doors in factories, cold iron windows in workshops, cold rails in industrial areas, cold iron hammers on the workbench ... It can be said that the whole of Germany is now a cold country.

"Dingling!" The doorbell rang and the door was pushed away from the outside. A man with high cheekbones walked into the small storefront on the corner of the block with a bag that looked large. He was wearing decent clothes, but Sheng was still clean. A pair of leather shoes looked very old, but he was very careful.

He hesitated outside for more than half an hour. From the time after work until the supper, he opened the door and walked in. His expression was a bit panic, but more frustrated. He lives in a building near here and is a standard office worker.

"Oh! Mr. Panson." The owner of the shop helped the black framed glasses on the bridge of the nose, and when he saw a person he knew came in, he immediately put down his pen and small book and greeted him with a smile. : "Welcome, what's the need?"

"Boss, I'll buy some flour and potatoes." This man named Pan Sen who walked into the shop looked around the shop and found that no other talent whispered: "I heard you are here ..."

"Mr. Panson, I don't know what you are talking about. There are a lot of potatoes here, and I can pick some fresh ones for you." The boss smiled and could not hear any fluctuations in his tone: "But you need to know, Flour is a limited supply of empire, you can only get it from the supply ticket used for food distribution. "

Panson put the big leather bag on the counter in front of the boss. After opening, he took out a few new versions of the imperial gold mark promised by the imperial government not to depreciate, and pushed it to the boss who had been smiling. He begged: "I know you This transaction only accepts this. I want some flour. My little daughter is sick. She told me that she wanted white bread ... please. "

"Is there any?" The boss pressed his hands against a few gold marks, rubbed them slightly, and glanced down at the eyes, asking.

"Ah?" The man froze, looking up at the boss, not knowing what to say.

"Anything else?" The boss asked again.

"Yes ... yes!" The man quickly pulled out his leather bag, took out the remaining few gold marks, and handed it to the boss. Although he knew that the money in his hands could buy a lot of flour under normal circumstances, but now the ration system is implemented, most things can not be bought with money, so he took out the money without hesitation.

The shop owner took the money, counted it, and gave it back to the man. He turned around and took a bag that sealed the mouth of the bag. The words "military supplies" were written in thick black font. Then took out a tin can from the grid under the counter, and saw that the packaging turned out to be fine natural butter.

"The 50 gold mark is flour money, and the other is butter money. It's a mess to eat white bread without natural butter ... don't tell anyone that I have butter here." The boss smiled and pushed two things to the stunned Panson there. : "I hope your daughter can get better soon."

"Really, thank you so much ..." The man was about to cry when he was moved. Most Berliners haven't eaten natural butter in a few years. Their luxury food is only margarine and brown bread.

"Bell!" The doorbell rang, and before Pansen turned back, the door was pushed away from the outside again. Pansen looked back subconsciously when he heard the sound, and was immediately scared to change his face. He even felt that the sky had collapsed and the world had been destroyed.

An SS officer followed a soldier carrying a Mauser 98k rifle, and the two walked into the shop leisurely. The SS officers in the front carried their hands on their backs, and the guards in the back held the door with one hand and the **** the gun with one hand. The two were staring at Panson, looking at the flour and butter in his hand.

Quiet, quiet enough to make people tremble. The fine dings were the sound of the tin of butter that Pansen was holding in his hand, and the reason was simple. His hands were trembling.

The officer took a step forward with his hands behind his back, and Panser moved his toes slightly in fright. He also thought about escaping, but glancing at the rifle carried by the SS soldier at the door, he lost the courage to escape.

I heard that the SS are some trained demons, and they are the most terrifying cold-blooded killing machines of the empire: they can smash your head with a gun one thousand kilometers away; they can drive dozens of enemies in one breath in a tank A tank; they will get people out of the middle of the night and cut their throats on the street; they will eat people who are not loyal to the head of state and will also divide their property.

Now it is his turn to buy military supplies, but it is a felony. He can be sentenced to a maximum of two years. He must be sent to a terrible concentration camp to serve his sentence.

Thinking of this, Pan Se couldn't help swallowing a spit, letting sweat slip from his forehead to the tip of his nose, and he didn't dare to wipe it with his hands. Until the German official came to him, he did not dare to move an inch away.

"Flour, butter. Have a birthday party?" The officer pressed the flour bag with his finger, showing a scary smile: "Is the ordinary office worker in Berlin so rich now? Really extravagant."

"His daughter is ill, so he found a way to get some." The boss continued to smile harmlessly to humans and animals: "What do the sir need to do?"

"Daughter ... How old are you?" The officer seemed interested and leaned on the counter and asked.

"Ten ... thirteen ..." Pan Sen replied bitterly.

"Thirteen years old ... My son is sixteen." The officer took out the cigarette case and handed Panson a cigarette: "Smoking?"

"No, don't smoke. Thank you ..." Pan Sen was almost crying, no matter how moody he was. The notoriety of the SS guarding people for torture has been circulating among the citizens of Berlin for a long time. With the idea of ​​nothing and diligence, Pan Sen feels that he will be hanged on the pole for a while.

"You are so happy that you have a daughter with you." The officer pulled out one and put it on his mouth, and then put away his cigarettes. Some of the chatter continued: "Last year he joined the training camp of the Young Army of the Head of State. No personal shadows can be seen. "

While chatting, he took out a few gold marks and handed it to the boss: "Give him a few more bottles of coke, and I invite our little patient to drink."

"Sir ... you ..." Pan Sen felt that his brain was going to die, he could not handle the development in front of him.

"Want to know why we didn't catch you?" The officer smiled, still looking a little scary. This is related to the folds of the facial muscles. Some people laughed naturally and scary, some people laughed like a spring breeze, obviously This officer belongs to the former.

He laughed twice and said, "What do you think, what do I do to catch you? I know in private that you say we are demons, we did kill people and copied homes, but we are the SS and the head of state. Pro-military, if we do n’t do these things, then who will do these things? I did n’t eat for three days when I was murderous for the first time ... "

"Oh, what am I saying to you?" The SS officer sighed, then shook his head and smiled mockingly: "Come on, don't be discovered by others."

These few minutes made Panson feel as if it had been so long after several decades. He bowed and carried his heavy heavy leather bag, which contained precious butter flour and two bottles of fashionable drink Coca-Cola. The moment he passed the SS soldier standing at the door, the feeling of relief almost made him collapse and collapse, but he still walked and walked to the end of the street.

Just when he pushed open the door of his house and saw his wife and daughter lying on the bed, he suddenly laughed. His life is getting better and better. He has the money and the food. Recently, he is still thinking about improving his life-is it all the benefit of the German power? Compared to the past, during the Weimar Republic, he lost his job, wandered the streets, and took his wife and children to sleep in a narrow small house.

It was the new economic stimulus plan that allowed him to find a job and get a high salary. As a result, he now bought his own house and saved a few hundred dollars in deposits. If you think about it that way, it sounds brilliant. My head of state, really should be long live.

"The business has been good recently?" As Pan Sen walked away, the SS officer casually asked the shop owner behind the counter.

Pan Sen does not know how big the SS officer is, but the owner of the shop obviously knows that the colonel is responsible for intelligence gathering by the SS, and the actual power is quite large. It is also directly related to this shop. relationship.

"The business is good, and there is a huge demand for flour with military products printed on it. General Reinhardt is indeed brilliant. Even if these foods are put on the market, they will be robbed, and we are so scattered and secretly sold, which eases In addition to the dissatisfaction of civilians on the supply of food quotas, they have made a lot of money. "The boss replied with a smile.

"This is August's strategy for the head of state. The whole plan includes stable work, the gradual restoration of free food trading, and overtime subsidy systems. The purpose is to enhance the sense of belonging and mobilize the patriotic enthusiasm of all German people." Come and go out: "If you have more, you can't talk nonsense ... Is there anything unusual recently?"

"Everything is normal." The store manager still maintained his kind smile: "The residents in this neighborhood have always been honest."

The officer pushed out the door: "Then you continue to be busy, I will go to the next store to see."