The Mediocre Man (2)

Megaphones were a poor substitute for radios anyway. Stahl had thought the biggest issue would be the leakage of classified information, but he never imagined they would use them to cause such chaos in the chain of command. And between allies, no less.

Stahl clutched his forehead and sighed. What on earth were these two grown men doing?

Regardless of what Stahl said, the two continued their utterly childish broadcast.

"Enough! Stop it!" Stahl finally lost his temper and barked.

Only then did Hitler and Stalin shut their mouths, seemingly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠realizing how embarrassing they were being.

Sigh... In the original history, at least thirty million people died because of the conflict between these two. Considering that, should I find it cute that these bearded middle-aged men are bickering like elementary schoolers?

In the original history, they had constantly looked for a chance to stab each other in the back. It was definitely the right choice to keep them separated.

Regardless, there was a reason their rivalry had escalated to this point. Both sides had performed equally well in the urban warfare. War, by its very nature, is not something that can be graded on a curve. It required an absolute standard. And what was that standard?

Only the one who captured Führer Apis first and claimed the glory would ultimately win the Race for Belgrade! It was inevitable that their competition would intensify.

Even after Stahl's intervention, Hitler and Stalin continued their psychological warfare. Eventually, they decided to take up arms and head to the front lines themselves. The supreme commanders throwing themselves directly into the fray? Stahl was deeply worried, but he let them go, figuring that keeping them in the command post to fool around would only lead to even greater disasters.

"Stalin, you human butcher! Don't push me!"

"It was an accident."

"What? An accident? If I roll down stairs this steep, I'll die instantly!"

"Blame your own weak lower body. Why blame me? Is that why you're still single?"

Even as they rushed down the stairs leading to the underground bunker, their bickering never ceased.

"But, Hitler. Doesn't something feel off?"

"What?"

"Why is it so quiet?"

"...Ah!"

Even amidst their squabbling, their instincts as warriors and supreme commanders remained sharp. When Stalin questioned the silence, Hitler also realized something was wrong.

"Stalin. Let me borrow that penal unit of yours."

"...Fine."

The Bosnian Revolutionary Guard brought forward a bound member of the National Revolutionary Party who had been working in the camp's torture chambers. With gun barrels pressed against his back, they pushed him and a few Revolutionary Guard members toward the underground bunker. The moment the penal unit opened ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the bunker door—

Boom! A deafening explosion roared, as if the entire underground bunker had been packed with TNT. It was powerful enough to make them feel like an earthquake had struck. So much TNT had been detonated that the entrance to the bunker collapsed instantly, and even the surrounding ground became unstable, threatening to cave in.

Hitler, pale at the scale of the explosion, muttered:

"...If we had gone straight in, we would have been finished."

"Indeed."

"But where the hell did that bastard Apis go?!"

"Did he choose mutual destruction?"

"...Surely not."

Hitler and Stalin's eyes trembled. Even if the chances were slim, what if Führer Apis had truly blown himself up, resolved to take them down with him? That would be a massive problem. But the even greater concern was: what if Führer Apis had escaped?

Of course, Belgrade had fallen, and the collapse of the Yugoslavian regime was guaranteed. But if Apis somehow managed to flee to Russia? Things would become incredibly tedious.

The primary objective of this war was to destroy Serbia and relieve the burden of a two-front war. But there was an even greater purpose. This was a war between the righteous Crusaders and the evil National Revolutionary Army. They had to capture the father and mastermind of the National Revolution in the early stages of the war.

Furthermore, there were three people desperately waiting for Apis's head: Stahl, who had lost his father-in-law, Chairman Wittgenstein; Archduke Franz Ferdinand, who had lost his wife, Sophie; and Archduke Karl, who had lost his father, Archduke Otto.

Stahl and Archduke Karl were one thing. But Archduke Franz Ferdinand, though trying to hide it as the crown prince, had completely lost his mind with rage.

Oh, shit... At that moment, Hitler and Stalin's minds were perfectly aligned once again.

"What? You lost Führer Apis?"

"Yes, sir."

"Sigh..."

I felt a throbbing headache coming on. We had surrounded Belgrade so tightly that there was virtually no way for Führer Apis to escape. The man had to be hiding somewhere in this city.

"Tighten the perimeter. Do not leave a single gap. We must not let Führer Apis escape under any circumstances."

"Yes, sir!"

I ordered the tightening of the blockade and an intensified search. The moment we reached the Yugoslavian Parliament building in Belgrade, I had believed the war was truly over.

To be frank, the war had already ended in a crushing defeat for Yugoslavia. The moment they launched Operation Guillotine, their fate was sealed anyway.

No, from the moment they foolishly provoked Greece and ignited a war in the Balkans, Serbia's destruction was foretold. Even so, we had to tie up the loose ends. Just as the Soviet Union had swept into the Japanese Empire's puppet state of Manchukuo at the end of World War II, we had to capture Führer Apis in Belgrade—whether to drag him to the guillotine or assassinate him—to bring a 'true' end to this war.

Apis, you piece of trash. Annoying to the very end, are you?

Now, a tedious game of hide-and-seek was about to begin. First, I ordered Hitler and Stalin to thoroughly sweep the remaining sectors, and then I settled down at the command post to handle administrative duties.

It wasn't just about the fighting. Supplies, boosting troop morale, managing prisoners and refugees, communicating with the home country, and coordinating between Greece, Hitler, and myself... I was far busier than the commanders actually running around the battlefield.

I sighed as I looked at the mountain of paperwork.

"Where on earth did Apis disappear to? He couldn't have flown into the sky, nor could he have sunk into the ground. Given his stubborn personality, is he setting up a new command post to continue the resistance?"

You could never predict what a madman like that would do. It was entirely possible he would throw his life away in a desperate, final stand just to be spiteful.

Yes. He's the man who planned the mass assassination of foreign heads of state, set all of Europe ablaze, and founded that trash ideology of National Revolution that swept the era. He has to at least do this much.

I had to hand it to him. Führer Apis was a remarkably formidable adversary who had managed to catch me off guard more than once. Because of that cockroach, the Chairman, the playboy Archduke Otto, and Crown Princess Sophie had all lost their lives. Though Archduke Otto's death was practically of natural causes...

Of course, his genocidal atrocities could never be forgiven. He deserved to be burned alive on the battlefield to pay for his sins. Perhaps letting him die on the battlefield was the only form of respect I could offer him as a worthy rival.

And then.

"V-Vice Chairman Stahl! You need to come out right now."

"What is it?"

"There's someone suspicious among the refugees!"

What? I quickly followed the soldier. The "suspicious person" the soldier pointed out was a heavily made-up woman with remarkably broad shoulders and a cleft chin.

Hmm... What kind of middle-aged woman is that tall? It seemed our tedious game of hide-and-seek was over.

"Open your mouth and speak."

"..."

"Can't you talk? Or can't you mimic a woman's voice?"

"I-I am sorry. As a member of the National Revolutionary Party, I disguised myself out of fear of punishment. I will accept my punishment. Am I to be sent to Stalin's penal unit?"

"..."

I clamped my hand over the man's mouth. Then, without hesitation, I slammed my fist into his face.

"Kuh-hugh!"

"Hey, Apis. No, even a grand name like that is a luxury for you. Colonel Dragutin Dimitrijević?"

"I-I am not Führer Apis."

Hearing those words, the last thread of my sanity snapped. My eyes rolled back. I grabbed Apis by the collar and repeatedly smashed my fist into his face.

I had never swung a fist in my life, nor had I ever worked out, so my punches were weak and soft. But because I was pouring absolute, genuine hatred into every blow, blood began to pour from my knuckles, as well as from Apis's nose and gums. Two of his teeth were already broken.

Faced with my unbridled violence, Apis panicked.

"I-I am sorry."

"What? Sorry?"

This piece of trash didn't deserve to live. I immediately drew my automatic pistol from my waist and pressed it against Apis's head.

"There is no reason for someone like you to draw breath. Die."

As I looked ready to pull the trigger, my aides, who had stood by while I was throwing punches, quickly grabbed my arms.

"V-Vice Chairman Stahl!"

"You can't!"

"Please, control yourself! This bastard cannot die like this!"

With my arms pinned by my men, I screamed:

"Sorry? If a simple apology is all it takes, why did you kill so many people? Why, why?!"

For someone who had ordered the slaughter of tens of thousands, Apis's expression was more innocent than anyone else's. I had expected a demonic expression from Apis—something like Stalin's cold malice, Wilhelm II's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠petty arrogance, Trotsky's worldly cynicism, or Franz Joseph's aged authority. I had expected something like that.

Instead, the smell of urine began to waft up. Führer Apis had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lost control of his bladder.

"H-Heeg, please spare me, Vice Chairman Stahl. I-I will never step foot in politics again."

"Ha... Haha?"

"Actually... I planned to hide my identity and return to my hometown to live in seclusion. I will never flee to Russia... I just want to be forgotten by everyone and die in peace."

I was reminded of my old rival, Karl Lueger of the Christian Social Party. In terms of character, he was quite similar to Führer Apis. A man consumed by delusion and hatred, who had constantly gotten in my way with all sorts of bizarre schemes.

But remember his end. Karl Lueger knew perfectly well that his death was imminent. Yet, he continued his petty struggles to the very end, acting as if he feared nothing, not even death itself. Even those despicable acts were Lueger's own way of fighting for his life.

But what about Führer Apis, who had plunged all of Europe into an endless abyss of war and committed unspeakable atrocities as if he were the avatar of death itself? Look at him now, completely transformed the moment he realized his own mortality. The delusional, genocidal Führer Apis had suddenly regained his sanity! Of all times, at this very moment!

Look at that face. Führer Apis cast his trembling eyes to the ground and muttered defensively.

"Why, why! Why on earth?!"

"...Vice Chairman Stahl. In the face of death, there are no heroes or villains. Everyone... is equally terrified of death. Hieee! D-Don't shoot, please..."

It was utterly hollow. Though my men held me back firmly, I fought down the urge to pull the trigger again and again.

"You will be dragged back to the Austro-Hungarian Empire."

"H-Heeg... Kuh-heeeeg...!"

Apis suddenly burst into tears, as if overwhelmed by regret. Honestly, I was the one who felt like pissing my pants in sheer absurdity. Suppressing my rage with everything I had, I turned to my men.

"The Battle of Belgrade is over. Bind Apis and put him on a train. I am truly curious to see Archduke Franz's reaction when he sees this piece of trash."

"Will that bastard really stand trial and be executed?"

"Indeed."