Chapter 559: Canned Food(5)
Chapter 559: Canned Food(5)
[On this beach, there are two kinds of people: those who are already dead and those who are about to die.]
This was the testimony of a soldier who participated in the Normandy Landings—specifically, at the bloody Omaha Beach.
Calz, having experienced that situation in real-time, wore a dazed expression for a long while.
It was only natural. He was a man far removed from fighting, let alone war. It was enough to make anyone lose their mind.
Even for someone accustomed to combat, Omaha Beach was a literal hellscape.
Soldiers were being "ground up" by Hitler’s buzzsaws. Limbs were blown off by artillery fire. Men cried out for their mothers in the throes of extreme terror.
The acrid smell of gunpowder, the saltiness of the sea, and the metallic stench of blood mixed into an indescribable, nauseating odor.
Tinnitus rang in the ears from the shelling, and the air was thick with the overlapping shouts and screams of soldiers. The hail of bullets pouring down like a monsoon was just the icing on the cake.
"Are you alright?"
"…I am not alright at all."
Calz, having emptied the entire contents of his stomach, replied with a pale face.
Seeing human limbs dismantled by artillery was shocking enough, but the literal gorefest of internal organs must have been even more horrific.
I only reacted with a start because I knew it was all fiction, but for Calz, it was indistinguishable from reality.
Still, thanks to Mora’s care, he wouldn't completely lose his mind. Mental health was Mora’s specialty, after all.
"I’ll say it again: what you just saw was all fiction. You don't need to get too immersed in it."
"You show me those scenes so vividly and then tell me not to get too immersed? Is your conscience dead?"
He’s openly cursing at me now. I suppose I understand.
As I gave a bitter smile, having nothing to say in my defense, Calz shook his head.
"If I could, I’d love to take a peek inside your head, Isaac. What kind of thoughts do you usually have to come up with such a horrific imagination?"
"It’s just an imagination. I also had Lady Mora’s help."
"Even so… no. Never mind. I’ll just give up. The fact that I’m even here right now makes no sense anyway."
Calz let out a hollow chuckle, a look of profound disillusionment on his face. It seemed he had given up after a series of situations that defied common sense.
I felt like saying, 'It’s because I’m a reincarnator,' but I decided against it, as I’d just have to explain more.
Besides, Calz and I aren't that close. He’s just a slave—no, an illustrator—who’s easy to put to work.
This level of relationship is just right. Regardless of what he thinks of me, Calz just needs to draw according to my requests.
"Then there won't be any problems with drawing the illustrations, right?"
"Problems? I’ve felt what Blood and Iron is supposed to feel like right down to my bones. The readers really need to see this once."
Calz grumbled as he stood up. Then, he began to sneak toward the side.
"Where are you going? That’s the exit."
"Hasn't it been a week already?"
"It’s only been five days."
"Oh, for heaven's sake."
I dragged him back. As soon as Calz sat in the chair in front of the canvas, he let out a sigh and picked up his brush.
His eyes changed instantly, returning to his professional self. As he began to sketch the illustration, I quietly stepped away.
Since he had personally experienced the atmosphere of Blood and Iron, I had to trust his skill. To be honest, even if one knows the atmosphere, expressing it through art is difficult.
Even with written descriptions, everyone envisions things differently. In my past life, I often tilted my head in confusion after receiving commissioned illustrations.
At least now, thanks to my sketches, there were no cases of him going completely off-track. Even if something felt a bit awkward, I was grateful enough to let it slide.
'I should get to writing too.'
The Eastern Front part of the German-Soviet War is currently underway. The part where Operation Barbarossa begins and the Soviet Union is helplessly swept away due to Stalin’s blunders.
In that process, I also plan to show Finland joining Nazi Germany to reclaim their territory before quickly bowing out.
'Before that, I should show the North African Campaign and Italy’s incompetence.'
True to its name as a World War, the conflict erupted all over the globe. North Africa was one of those places.
In truth, the North African front wasn't that important. It only happened because Mussolini was screaming about "the glory of Ancient Rome!"
There’s a rumor—or perhaps more than a rumor—that even Hitler clutched the back of his neck, wondering what that idiot was doing. At that point, Hitler was still "relatively" sane.
'If only Italy had pulled their weight…'
Internally, Hitler ruined Nazi Germany, but externally, Italy committed a massive act of trolling.
Starting from attacking Greece, which they didn't even need to touch, they failed to do even the bare minimum.
It got to the point where many people later seriously debated whether Italy should even be considered part of the Axis Powers.
'If it weren't for Rommel, they would have been ruined much sooner.'
Although Rommel was recalled to the mainland due to Montgomery’s appearance, Rommel was in a very unfair situation.
The mainland wouldn't give him supplies because they were preparing for the invasion of the Soviet Union, he had to suffer through the god-awful desert weather, and Italy was trolling right beside him.
There’s a reason Rommel is praised as the Desert Fox. Fighting as well as he did under such adverse conditions was a monumental achievement.
Furthermore, looking at Hitler’s actions after the German-Soviet War, defeat was a foregone conclusion.
'The real desperate carrying was done by Model.'
Model appeared in the mid-to-late stages of the German-Soviet War, specifically when the initiative had already shifted to the Soviet Union.
For now, I plan to focus on Operation Barbarossa and the Holocaust, which will appear soon.
Along the way, I’ll occasionally introduce Oskar Schindler and Anne Frank in side-story-like segments.
'Let’s introduce the Holocaust after the Xenon Festival.'
There’s only about a month left until the Xenon Festival. A variety of spectacles will likely pour out during that festival.
Nazi Germany will undoubtedly be included. It’s not just a possibility; it’s 100%.
Even now, they are being praised as an "evil group with style and charm."
Perhaps even after the Holocaust is introduced, there will be people who continue to fanboy over them.
Since Blood and Iron is a fictional story—a "fantasy"—their reputation might change to that of irredeemable trash, but they won't become a taboo subject like Voldemort.
'To prevent anyone from defending them, I should include this.'
There is a famous aphorism: "First they came for the..."
It’s a text about how even if one didn't actively participate in the Nazis' atrocities, remaining silent makes one responsible.
If someone argues that they had no choice but to follow Nazi Germany’s tyranny? That single text can refute them all.
Especially since a revolution recently broke out in Machina, that text will resonate even more deeply.
"…Isaac."
"……"
"Isaac."
"Yes?"
While I was focused on writing, Calz’s voice pierced my ears. I blinked and looked away from the typewriter.
When I looked up, I saw Calz standing there with a somewhat satisfied expression.
"Here it is."
"…What is?"
"The painting that captures Blood and Iron."
Calz handed me the canvas with a gratified look. It was the first time I’d seen him look so relieved since coming here.
I took the canvas with a dazed feeling and checked the painting. My eyes widened in surprise.
"This is…"
"I expressed it based on the scene I saw earlier. What do you think?"
Calz’s explanation didn't even register. The painting was that magnificent.
In the painting, a soldier was shouting something with a deep scowl. He was likely yelling, "Charge!"
If it were just the soldier, it would have been an average painting, but behind him were tanks, airplanes, battleships, and more. Various war machines were drawn with precision.
They weren't just drawn plainly, either; the tanks and battleships were spitting fire, and the planes were dropping bombs, clearly showcasing their identities.
Most of all, the background stood out. It was a predominantly grey background, as if revealing the gloom and futility unique to World War II.
It looked like the cover of a game set in World War II. He really expressed all this with just paint?
Perhaps Calz’s skill was even greater than I thought. He was a genius born in the wrong era.
"It’s truly… amazing. It’s exactly what I wanted. How did you draw this?"
"How else? As I said, I based it on the scene I just saw with my own eyes. Do you like it?"
"I love it. I could even use this as the cover."
I meant it with all my heart. Both the Xenon Biography and Blood and Iron had rather plain covers.
While I couldn't find an illustrator like Calz for the Xenon Biography, Blood and Iron was different. This painting was perfect for a cover.
A cover that properly showed what kind of world Blood and Iron was. In this day and age, you couldn't buy a cover like this for any amount of money.
"Thank you so much. I’ll have to discuss this with Mr. Musk later. You don't mind if I use it as the cover, right?"
"I don't mind. But can you use a painting on a canvas as a cover?"
"I’ll have to ask Mr. Musk about that. It seems he uses special magic or technology for it. I’ll say it again: thank you so much for this wonderful painting."
"Haha. It’s nothing. It’s my job. By the way…"
Calz coughed awkwardly at my praise, then began to glance at me tentatively. He seemed to be asking if I could let him go now.
At this, I gave him a bright smile and spoke.
"You can draw more, right?"
"Pardon?"
"I’m putting all my trust in you, Calz. Oh, do you need more money? If you want, I’m willing to get you the highest-quality art supply set."
"……"
Calz, who initially had a "Is this guy for real?" expression, gradually became tempted by my words. As I’ve mentioned repeatedly, art requires money.
Furthermore, Calz was in a situation where he absolutely needed money because he had lost everything in the stock market.
Money or rest. For Calz, it was bound to be the dilemma of a lifetime.
"…I have one request. If you can get me this, I will gladly accept."
After some deliberation, Calz spoke with a determined expression. I gestured for him to say anything.
He pursed his lips and then made his request in a firm voice.
"I heard that in Albenheim, there is paint made from the leaves of the World Tree and dedicated brushes. It’s the paint of every artist’s dreams, changing to any color you want when you channel mana into it."
"Go on."
"I would also like paper made from the bark of the World Tree. I heard that even if you make a mistake on that paper, you can correct it with a brush."
"Paint made from World Tree leaves, dedicated brushes, and finally, the paper. Those three things, right?"
"Yes. If not, please let me leave."
Calz declared that he would leave if I couldn't get them. It was a transparent demand, but it showed how exhausted he was.
Unfortunately for him, he was unaware of one fact.
"Alright. I’ll get them for you."
"Goo— wait, what? You can get them?"
"Yes. I’m close with the Queen of Albenheim."
The fact that Arwen and I were lovers in a deep enough relationship to have shared a bed.
Just as I had obtained the World Tree leaf cigars, I just had to ask Arwen to get all these items.
If he had heard the rumors circulating, he wouldn't have made such a request. But Calz had been ground down for so long that he had no idea.
"You said it, Calz. If I provide everything, you’ll do as I wish."
"No. Wait a minute. No matter how close you are to the Queen of Albenheim, to the Queen…"
"She’s my lover. Satisfied?"
"……"
Don't think you're getting away.