Chapter 49: The Skull Division

[Reincarnated Tipper Truck: Big trouble, bro! The Prosen planes bombed and broke the bridge, and the pontoon bridge was taken out by airstrikes too. All hundreds of thousands of our troops are trapped on this side of the river!]

[Great Mighty Heavenly Dragon: What about the refugees?]

[Reincarnated Tipper Truck: Civilians are on this side of the river as well. Not many managed to cross. Seeing the army scattering everywhere, they just dragged their handcarts away and vanished. They're probably heading back to their village.]

[Great Mighty Heavenly Dragon: What combat gear did you bring into this instance? Does it have any mention of hybrids?]

[Reincarnated Tipper Truck: I bought it. This thing seems to have a high pedigree, but I still have no idea what it does. I heard my comrades and other players mention "golden eyes"—that should be the source of the instance's abilities.]

[Great Mighty Heavenly Dragon: Bingo, your guess is right. You can try asking your superior for a stimulant injection, specifically requesting a single-serving dose to awaken your bloodline.]

[Reincarnated Tipper Truck: OK. But I also heard some rumors in the army that Comrade Stolt hates golden eyes, which is why they started some kind of... Great Purge. I haven't quite figured this out yet. I'll tell you once I find out more.]

[Great Mighty Heavenly Dragon: I'll contact you if I get any new news. Gotta go, someone's here.]

[Reincarnated Tipper Truck: Thanks for the invite. Currently in the warzone, just got bombed, gotta head out.]

……

Chen Lai curled up in the attic, closing the private player chat. His rifle was gripped tightly in his hand, and dark stubble was beginning to sprout on his face.

He had been holed up in the attic for a day and a night, sleeping only in snatches because the officers downstairs were simply too noisy.

They had somehow acquired a phonograph, shoved a copy of "Lili Marleen" into it, and played cards all through the night. In the middle of it, they called Uliya over to pour drinks, and the whole thing only ended after she sang a couple of Rosa songs for them.

Prosens in 1939, especially the officers, didn't typically resort to violating Rosa country girls—barring a few exceptionally impatient ones. However, such matters became increasingly unpredictable as time went on, since the shifting tides of war profoundly affected human behavior.

Gradually, afternoon arrived. A portion of the civilians who had previously fled alongside Korchagin returned. Their handcarts were laden with their possessions, clothes, and other belongings. Originally, they had intended to take these across the river to continue their lives in Donetsk, but now they were hauling them back.

The refugees appeared from the eastern side of the village like a string of black beads, quickly attracting the attention of the stationed Prosen soldiers. The roar of motorcycles and the rumble of Opel Blitz transport trucks echoed once again as they shouted and gathered, their black command flags standing out sharply against the white snow.

"Halt! Halt!"

Laughing heartily, the Prosen soldiers shouted in broken Rosa to the leader at the front of the column. The leader remained silent, his eagle-like eyes scanning the Prosens up and down. This provocative gaze deeply irritated the soldiers.

Before they could fly into a rage, the leader, Korchagin, waved his hand to signal everyone to stop.

"Inferior race."

The Prosen soldier who had just been stared down by Korchagin spat fiercely as he passed him, cursing in incomprehensible Prosen, before rushing eagerly toward the refugees' handcarts like a starving hound.

Inside the village, Colonel Richthofen and several staff officers emerged from a house after finishing their card game. They chuckled as they watched the soldiers loot the refugees, showing not the slightest intention of intervening.

Why intervene? The Emperor's military pay wasn't always disbursed on time, anyway. During a campaign away from home, were the soldiers supposed to shortchange themselves? Without looting, how could morale be maintained?

As long as these soldiers didn't disobey orders on the battlefield and executed their military duties efficiently, the Emperor and his Black Eagle officers were more than willing to turn a blind eye to a little roughness in their daily conduct.

Witnessing this scene, Chen Lai felt a surge of suffocating frustration. He aimed his rifle at Richthofen's head, ready to crack open the skulls of this bunch.

*I really need to smash you guys with the Federation's iron fist.jpg*

He clicked off the safety, training the muzzle precisely on Richthofen's head. At that moment, the colonel was watching his men indulge in unbridled pillaging as Prosen soldiers in the distance loaded looted furs, shoes, and bearskin hats onto trucks, sparing neither bracelets, necklaces, nor even carved wooden idols.

Chen Lai's finger steadily squeezed the trigger. He took a deep breath—

*Bang!*

The gunshot rang out. Chen Lai was dumbfounded; he hadn't pulled the trigger. Richthofen had been shot dead, but not by him!

Emerging from a blind spot by the window was a Prosen officer wearing skull collar insignia. Only then did Chen Lai realize that several more jeeps had appeared at the village entrance, one of which sported a long antenna—a clear sign of importance!

The gunshot echoed far into the distance, prompting the motorized infantry looting outside the village to hurriedly turn their vehicles around and head back. By this time, Chen Lai had already shifted his muzzle away, covering the scope directly with a cloth to avoid giving away his position from the sun's reflection off the snow.

"Whoever just arrived must be a big fish," Chen Lai muttered to himself.

Immediately afterward, he saw a growing number of soldiers wearing skull insignia entering the village. Their uniforms were impeccably tailored; compared to the Prosen infantry of the motorized regiment, their attire was stylish enough for a runway show.

And why wouldn't it be? They were the Emperor's Bodyguard, after all, and the Emperor himself was an art school dropout.

Upon entering the village, the Death's Head soldiers lined up neatly in two rows, standing proudly to welcome their commanding officer. They all stood precisely one meter eighty tall, with high cheekbones and aquiline noses—the hallmarks of pure-blooded Aryans... and most importantly, golden pupils flashed within every single one of their eye sockets!

What the hell? Where on earth has this transported me?

The rejected art school dropout has an entire division of hybrids?

Aryan supermen turned out to be real? How could I be having a dream like this!

Chen Lai's thoughts were in utter disarray, and he instinctively slowed his breathing. The visual impact of this scene was far too overwhelming. He had thought the inclusion of a few hybrids in World War II was already absurd, but this—this was...

*Tap, tap.*

Military boots crunched on the snow, a marshal's cape fluttered in the breeze, and the fluffy golden trim looked breathtaking under the winter sunlight.

The boots stopped right in front of the blood-stained ground. The senior officer crouched down and gently closed Richthofen's eyes with his hand.

"Write that Richthofen fell in the line of duty, and submit an Iron Cross for him."

The officer spoke with calm elegance, gently rubbing his black-gloved hands together.

"Yes, General!"

The staff officer trailing behind him responded crisply.

The motorized infantry soldiers who had retreated back into the village now shrank back like quails. They could act all-powerful in front of Rosa civilians, but before the Emperor's Bodyguard and this senior officer, they were mere underlings.

"Has the discipline of the Empire degenerated to this extent?"

The senior officer shook his head slightly, his golden pupils glowing like high-intensity light bulbs. The surrounding Death's Head soldiers, despite being handpicked elites, none dared to meet his gaze.

Hiding in the attic, Chen Lai was drenched in sweat. He had found the [Mobile Evacuation Point], but this evacuation point was entirely too terrifying!

[Mobile Evacuation Point: Kill Erich von Manstein, seize his heart, and activate the mobile Evacuation Point.]

Damn it! This guy is Manstein!