Chapter 77
Chapter 77
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 77
Chapter Title: Dagger in the Bosom
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Meanwhile, on the Eastern Front, where victories were piling up one after another.
The Chief of Staff of Ober Ost, Lieutenant General Ludendorff, was striding hurriedly along, clutching a piece of paper so tightly that it was crumpled into a ball.
"Excellency."
Creak—the ornate door swung open, revealing an elderly man of robust build seated at his desk, lost in thought.
It was Field Marshal Hindenburg, Supreme Commander of the Eastern Front.
"Excellency, this is intolerable! A mere major daring to violate military discipline..."
Ludendorff marched toward him, ready to vent his fury.
"Sit down."
But Hindenburg's curt tone carried a faint edge of irritation, so he obediently took the chair in front.
Then he opened his mouth again.
"...Did you receive the letter from that major?"
"Yes."
Now that he looked, the only thing occupying Hindenburg's vast desk was a single thin letter.
Ludendorff instinctively knew that letter contained much the same content as the one he held.
Naturally, the Chief of Staff's face twisted in displeasure.
"This is a clear overstep. For a mere major to interfere in personnel matters involving the Empire's Chief of Staff—my superior, no less!"
"..."
"This is absurd! Do you intend to let that major's arrogance continue unchecked?!"
"...Be quiet."
As Hindenburg muttered, silence finally settled over the room.
In that hush, as various thoughts raced through his mind once more, he suddenly recalled the words of his late mentor.
'What’s truly frightening... is that inhuman, machine-like quality.'
'It’s as if he lives solely for war. Like a war machine.'
"..."
He wanted a smoke.
Whenever he reflected on his teacher, cigarettes always came to mind for some reason.
Perhaps because of the inexplicable, bittersweet tangle of emotions it stirred.
"Quite right."
"...Pardon? What did you say?"
"We should appoint someone who’s like a war machine..."
"Excellency?"
But Hindenburg's response to that was always consistent.
No matter how much he was underestimated.
Rommel was, at the very least, a necessary evil for Germany. Setting aside his moral flaws, he could be seen as a divine gift tailored for the Fatherland.
That major was dry and detached, yet blindly devoted to his country.
Thus, there was no need to cast him out, and even if there were, it would only be in the worst-case scenario among bad options.
Hindenburg looked up at the puzzled Ludendorff.
The Supreme Commander, having weighed every last variable, quietly spoke.
"...Prepare your resignation as well."
"You're truly going to follow that major's words?!"
"Yes."
In stark contrast to Ludendorff's shocked outburst, Hindenburg's reply was short and matter-of-fact.
His head throbbed, and he had much to say, but the Chief of Staff held his tongue.
"Haaah... Very well... Understood."
"..."
When the Supreme Commander gave an order, the staff obeyed.
Soon, resignation letters (requests for discharge) from key figures in Ober Ost began stacking up neatly.
Falkenhayn included, they were fuel enough to ignite the fragile civilian control and even the Kaiser's authority.
My private quarters.
"Good evening?"
"...It's been a while, Captain."
"Yes, a few months now?"
Around the time preparations for the Battle of Verdun were wrapping up.
Captain Karl Schneider had quietly visited in the dead of night.
He dragged over a chair and sat before me, where I was still buried in an endless pile of work.
I glanced at the clock. It was already 1 a.m.
I'd thought I might get some sleep tonight, but seeing Schneider's serious demeanor dashed that hope.
"So, what brings you here?"
"Hahaha, with all this time on your hands, no need to be so hasty..."
When I asked directly, Schneider started to deflect with pleasantries, but his eyes flicked over the mountain of documents.
He gave an awkward smile and changed tack.
"Well, alright then."
"..."
I set down my pen and leaned back loosely.
Crack—my stiff joints popped all at once, a refreshing relief.
Schneider stared at me with a deep smile and then spoke.
"It seems one of our agents, Paul Malon, has gone AWOL recently."
"..."
"Do you know anything about it?"
So that's what this is about?
Section 3b was more competent than I'd thought. Who knew a few letters would draw such scrutiny?
But I'd already accounted for this.
I gave the smirking Schneider a nonchalant reply.
"I sent some personal letters through him. Embarrassing stuff that'd be awkward if caught by censors, so I borrowed the guy. Problem?"
"Haha, as you know, these are sensitive wartime conditions. Censorship exists for national security, and hearing that you bypassed it left the higher-ups a bit flustered."
"Is that so?"
It was the same old pressure tactic. Worse, they'd confirmed the letters were sent and were still probing slyly—that was downright insolent.
Uncomfortable now, I crossed my legs and draped my arms over the chair back, making my irritation plain.
Schneider's smile gradually stiffened.
Thud. I took a sip of coffee and asked him.
"And so?"
"...I won't ask about the contents, but can you just confirm where you sent them?"
"Hmm, you'll regret it."
"Major."
"You think I'm joking? I'm serious—you'll regret it."
Schneider's smirk faded into a grave expression as he stared at me.
His determination not to leave without answers grated on me, but I held back.
With so much work left, this nighttime ambush was infuriating.
Hiding my killing intent, I stared him down and spat it out.
"Lots of big names, so take notes. I'll say it once."
"Yes."
"Paul von Hindenburg, Erich Ludendorff, Max Hoffmann, Hermann von François, August von Mackensen, Hans von Seeckt..."
Halt—Schneider's pen froze at the first name.
No surprise; listing such heavyweights would land him on someone's hit list too.
I sneered at him.
"What're you waiting for? Manfred von Richthofen of the 38th Reserve Corps, Oscar von Hutier, Alfred von Tirpitz..."
"Wh-what the hell have you done?!"
Crash!—As the Navy Minister's name came up, Schneider leaped to his feet in horror.
Whoosh—his flailing arm toppled a stack of papers, and my lips curled downward.
But the agent ignored it completely and yelled at me.
"Wha—what... even Falken...!! How do you plan to handle the fallout...!!"
Flustered, Schneider babbled incoherently before finally trembling as he stared at me.
Such quick calculations—befitting a Section 3b operative.
I couldn't just let him leave like this.
"I'm just the messenger anyway. A parrot for Excellencies Hindenburg and Ludendorff, so it doesn't matter."
I lied calmly.
I'd tipped off Hindenburg and Ludendorff just enough to poke at Falkenhayn, notified them I'd borrow their names a bit.
Then I sent the rest of the letters as if following Hinden-Ludendorff's orders.
"They'll handle the aftermath themselves."
"This is practically a coup! It touches on His Majesty the Kaiser's authority..."
"Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures, don't they?"
Besides, I'd only informed them of possibilities.
If we won at Verdun, all good.
The issue was... the letters to Hinden-Ludendorff were my lifeline.
But I trusted Hindenburg and planned to stick with him through the Great War, so it was fine.
I controlled this whole situation—what could go wrong?
"Captain Schneider."
"...Yes?"
"Tsk tsk, I told you you'd regret it."
As the gravity sank in, Schneider paled and backed away unsteadily.
I clicked my tongue and glared coldly at him.
"Now that you know, sorry, but you'll have to choose."
"No, we... Section 3b will pretend we don't know. I didn't hear anything here..."
"Do you swear loyalty to His Majesty the Kaiser and the Fatherland, or to Falkenhayn personally?"
"..."
Frozen in place, Schneider couldn't move.
Click—I adjusted my belt, revealing a glimpse of my Luger pistol.
The captain's mouth gaped silently. His answer was predetermined.
"Of course... to His Majesty the Kaiser and the Fatherland..."
"Good."
I nodded in satisfaction.
Sometimes, this kind of pressure was necessary. If he'd refused... I wouldn't have shot him, but he'd have died far more miserably.
Prussian officers were colder than me.
"Don't breathe a word upstairs. Report that the letters I sent were to my wife—private marital matters, hard to probe further."
"...Understood."
At my command, the fully subdued Schneider slowly bowed his head.
But I stayed vigilant.
"I noticed quite a few of your Section 3b buddies around. You didn't realize, but the delivery boy wasn't just my junior Malon."
"!"
"So... watch yourself. Now get out."
Schneider staggered back unsteadily.
As he quickened his steps to bolt out.
I remembered something I'd almost forgotten.
"Oh, restack those fallen papers before you go."
Those were the last ones.
Leaving elite troops at Ypres, convincing other staff to send just enough resources—everything had succeeded.
Once those papers were done... Verdun awaited.