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墨書 Inktalez
On the evening of November 8, 1923, the streets of Munich were brightly lit, and people were enjoying their nightlife. However, just a wall away in the Bergkeller, there was silence, as no one dared to speak. Watching the patrolling Brown-shirt troops, prominent figures from all walks of life tightly sealed their lips, fearing for their lives.
Now, a large group of stormtroopers surrounded the entire first-floor hall, all entrances and exits were blocked, so people were ordered not to leave. At the door, there were a few guys lying there, trying to escape and were shot dead, the bloody smell filled the entire hall, making people shudder.
However, at this time, the stormtroopers did not care about these people they usually never come into contact with, but now they could easily control the life and death of these men and women. In the past, these gangsters would have been mocked, but now everyone is not interested in this because there are more important things now.
They are all anxiously waiting, looking forward to the leader on the second floor bringing good news.
Although some people mock the stormtroopers as a group of bumpkin workers and veterans, the guys who came here today are not fools, at least more or less they know what they are doing.
Now time is life for them, the longer it takes, the more unfavorable it is for them.
A dead silence envelops the entire hall, no one speaks, the crowded hall is silent, so quiet that you can even hear everyone's heartbeat. This kind of quietness does not herald calm, but more like a volcano about to erupt, accumulating its eruptive power.
The quiet atmosphere is terrifying and oppressive. Many people can no longer bear the lifeless atmosphere in the hall. The anger and dissatisfaction in the crowd are increasing, like the energy at the bottom of a volcano constantly rising, about to break through the volcano mouth, bringing even more terrifying and desperate results.
Just as someone is about to be unable to bear this silence and is about to do something, the door that has been tightly closed in the room on the second floor finally opens, like a floodgate, sweeping away all the anxiety and anger. The person who walks out attracts all the attention in the room.
Adolf Hitler walks down the stairs at a leisurely pace, taking light and easy steps, and walks directly to the platform in the hall, announcing loudly:
"Bavarian government has been overthrown," he shouted, "the government and president of the November criminals have also been declared overthrown. The new government will be announced today in Munich, and the national revolution in Bavaria has been victorious. I suggest that, until the November criminals are held accountable, I take over the policy guidance work of the national government."
Ludendorff will take on the leadership of The German Armed Forces, and the task of The Provisional National Government of Germany is to organize the march into the abyss of evil in Berlin and save the German people!"
However, Hitler walked towards the second floor after speaking, refusing to communicate with anyone. Even when faced with inquiries from Rom, he only muttered to maintain order and did not respond further. Rom watched his old comrade pick up a handkerchief from the table, wiped the sweat from his neck without leaving a trace, and then walked back to the second floor.
The tense atmosphere in the hall continued. It was clear that Hitler's words alone did not reassure those present, whether they were prominent figures from various fields or stormtroopers members. After all, Karl and the other two had not yet appeared, and everyone was speculating what this might mean.
Facing the inquiries from the stormtroopers, Rom had nothing to say, as his comrades had not revealed any useful information. He had no choice but to arrange for them to strengthen the vigilance on the periphery, and the leaders of the stormtroopers at all levels could only grumble and go back to maintaining order.
Is this guy capable at all? Rom had no confidence in his heart, and couldn't help but mutter quietly, "My God, what a terrible day."
"My God, what a wonderful day this is." Judge Geauga Nenadze said with satisfaction as he opened another bottle of wine and turned to Strasser. "Thanks to you, I am able to enjoy such fine wine."
"There's no need to be polite; it's better to enjoy together than to be alone." Strasser smiled in response, but internally he was somewhat speechless. This old man really could drink; the fine wine he had brought was nearly finished by him.
Watching as the last box of wine was about to be consumed by this old drunkard, Strasser knew he had to take action. Given the current situation, it seemed that this old fool would rather finish the wine than discuss serious matters. He cleared his throat, preparing to state his intentions.
Just then, Geauga slammed an empty bottle onto the table, the crisp sound echoing throughout the hall. With a serious expression, he turned to the startled Strasser and said:
"Just speak your mind, Mr. Gregor. After all, I believe no one would bring a large box of fine wine to meet a humble judge like me without a reason. Considering how much good wine you've treated me to, I will help you within my capabilities.
However, let me make it clear that I will not bend the law for anyone. As an upright judge, I must ensure that any wrongdoing is brought to justice."
"Don't worry, Mr. Geauga. How could I make such unreasonable requests of an upright judge like you?" Strasser said with a broad smile on his face.
"Just the opposite, I am asking you to enforce the law impartially."
"You can rest assured that I will do it even if you don't say so."
"That's even better."
Strasser smiled even more and leaned closer to Geauga, whispering a few words. Geauga frowned. "This matter isn't difficult, but how do you know that this case is my responsibility? I haven't received any information myself. What if someone else is in charge? Also, while handling this matter may seem simple on the surface and easy to execute, won't I face retaliation afterward?"
Strasser knew he had to dispel the doubts in the old fox's mind; otherwise, the other party would likely just engage in empty pleasantries. After all, the older a person was, the more astute they tended to be. He extended one finger and said, "For the first question, you don't need to worry. I have my own ways. If it isn't your turn to judge today, then you can simply act as if nothing has happened." Then, he extended a second finger.
"The second issue, to be honest, I am a key figure in the National Socialist Party and hold immense power within the party. However, I have a minor conflict with a certain figure within the party, so I need to get rid of him. But rest assured, as long as I am here, you will not face any retaliation."
"If I become the leader of the National Socialist Party, you will gain the friendship of a highly influential figure in politics. That would be quite beneficial for you, wouldn't it? After all, the judicial elections in Bavaria will be starting in just a few years. I believe Judge Geauga would be perfect for that position."
Geauga Nenadze was still hesitating; this old fox always acted cautiously, afraid to take on any responsibility. Strasser gritted his teeth and decided to use his trump card. During their earlier conversation, he had already identified this old man's critical weakness. He turned to call out to Otto outside the door, who immediately rushed in eagerly.
"Otto, drive to my house right now and bring ten gallons of each kind of the fine wine stored in my cellar for Mr. Geauga to taste. Don't forget the white wine and vodka, bring over the twenty, no, thirty-year-old wine as well."
"Alright!"
Otto skipped out again.
"Is this your brother?"
Faced with Geauga's teasing, Strasser could only cover his forehead and admit it.
"Hahaha, you two brothers are really different in personality. But I like it," Geauga shrugged. "It seems I have to agree to your request since you've offered me a deal I can't refuse."
"Moreover, you don't even know that you are judging someone right now, so it doesn't count as accepting a bribe. You haven't violated your principles, have you?" Strasser added.
The two exchanged a smile and then eagerly began to finish off the remaining fine wine on the table.
In the outer room of the second floor of the Beethoven Tavern, Adolf Hitler was anxiously pacing back and forth. The current situation was that despite his best efforts, he had not been able to sway Karl and the others in the inner room. For the first time, he felt that his proud oratory skills were not infallible when dealing with people who had their own opinions.
But what else can he do? He definitely can't really execute Karl himself, can't fight them, and can't brainwash them. Now, Hitler is at a loss. Just as Hitler was feeling restless, the door of the room opened. "What's going on? Didn't I say that no one is allowed to enter without my orders!"
Hitler angrily accused, saying that he urgently needed a punching bag, but when he saw who was coming, he immediately bowed in salute. He knew that the person coming was not his punching bag, but his great savior.
"You have disappointed me too much, Adolf Hitler," Ludendorff said discontentedly. "You didn't explain such an important matter to me clearly. I thought this was a gathering to attend." The older general's face was red with anger.
"But now is not the time to blame you. It looks like you've encountered a little problem, and I need to help you solve it."
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