Gravedigger of the Empire

"You'd better give me a reasonable explanation." The lieutenant colonel in front of him frowned, speaking fluent German, which Zhou Zhuo understood perfectly.

He swallowed hard, unsure where to begin. His memories were a jumbled mess, and he still hadn't sorted them out.

The two guards on duty in the morgue were so frightened that they turned pale and stood at a distance, pointing and whispering.

The officers in charge of taking notes would occasionally glance at Zhou Zhuo, as if they were looking at a clown.

The cuts on his hands from the knife still throbbed faintly, and Zhou Zhuoneng could recall the madness of the body's owner before his death.

If it were him, he probably would have gone crazy too.

Here's roughly what happened: This unlucky guy, or rather, this lucky guy named Kahn, time-traveled.

He chose suicide at the moment of Germany's defeat in World War II. For reasons unknown, his soul traveled back to before the war and returned to his body.

Originally, he should have been overjoyed to have a second chance, and might even have been able to change the course of history. But in reality, this young man named Kahn went mad.

He couldn't accept the collapse of the career he had dedicated his life to, he couldn't accept that his country would become ruins in the future, and he couldn't accept that the idol he followed was heading towards destruction.

So he completely broke down in utter despair and hanged himself in his apartment.

then……

And then there's me, the unlucky one... or rather, the lucky one...

I've traveled through time a second time.

He has now become Kahn, a "Kahn" who has inherited three sets of memories.

Now, he can't even say for sure who he is.

A P-38 pistol and an iPhone, a J-20 fighter jet and a Junkers 52, a StuG III assault gun and a BYD electric car... all mixed together, it was enough to make his head split open.

"Kahn! What the hell are you doing?!" The lieutenant colonel sitting opposite him raised his voice and questioned him sharply.

"Lieutenant Colonel... I don't know what happened. I might have taken some wrong medicine, and I drank a little bit of alcohol last night... I don't even know what I did." Zhou Zhuo, who had transmigrated into Kahn, fabricated a lie to buy time.

It was only then that he remembered that the middle-aged officer was his superior, named Miken.

"You better watch out! If you cause any more trouble, I'll send you home!" Unwilling to waste such a promising talent, Lieutenant Colonel McConnell ultimately decided to downplay the incident.

He scolded Kahn a couple of times, then stood up, dusted off his trousers, and said, "Alright, Lieutenant Kahn isn't dead, he's just unconscious."

Several officers recognized Kahn and, suppressing their laughter, put down their notebooks.

The two guards nodded in agreement, finding the explanation quite reasonable: Lieutenant Kahn had hanged himself, but hadn't quite died.

"That's the end of this matter! Kahn, you can rest for two days and then come back to report!" Lieutenant Colonel McCann walked to the door, said coldly, and then left.

"How much did you drink?" The lieutenant, holding a notebook, walked up to Kahn, bent down, and examined Kahn's neck.

There really was a bloodstain there, and it looked horrifying.

"Don't hang yourself from the roof beam again, or you won't be so lucky next time." The lieutenant clicked his tongue, straightened up, and turned to leave.

"Fred!" Zhou Zhuo, or rather Kahn, looked up, his face showing signs of a hangover, and called out to the other person.

He had only just remembered the person's name, so he simply asked, "Who discovered my 'suicide' attempt... and saved me?"

"Me!" Fred pointed to his nose. "I took you home when you were drunk. I came to find you the next morning and found your door unlocked and you hanging from the roof beam."

"Thanks." Zhou Zhuo let out a breath of stale air, ending the conversation wearily. "I'm completely confused right now, let's talk about this later."

Fred glanced at him, said nothing, and left. Soon, only Kahn remained in the room.

……

"Ouch...it hurts...it hurts..." Feeling like his head was about to split open, Kahn got out of bed early the next morning, groaning unconsciously.

The sunlight stung his eyes, and then he was startled by what he saw.

This wasn't the home he knew, or rather... this place didn't feel like the world he was familiar with.

The furniture is so old it's practically ancient, with those ridiculously cute European-style patterns adorning the edges of the cabinets—a decorating style from seventy years ago.

"Hmm?" Then he saw the cuff of his arm, the rough fabric and the buttons that his grandmother's generation liked to use, in front of which was a hand that he was not very familiar with.

There was a wound in the center of his palm, like a sharp blade that had severed the lines on his palm.

Countless memories reverberated in his mind, interwoven with the strange memories of a soldier named Kahn within the soul of a 21st-century man.

"Uh..." He was drowsy and sat on the edge of the bed for a long time without moving.

It wasn't until the clock on the wall chimed on the hour that Zhou Zhuo was pulled back to reality from his daze.

That damn guy, Kahn... he actually wasted such a precious "opportunity"!

This is time travel!

A wondrous journey that so many people dream of! He went mad! And... committed suicide.

I inexplicably inherited Kahn's memories and came to this world!

Zhou Zhuo, or rather, Kahn now, raised his head, looked around, and finally convinced himself that this was indeed the era that haunted his dreams.

The wall clock was still ticking away, and there were keyholes on both sides of the clock face for winding.

Such things have almost disappeared in the world he is familiar with; he had only seen them by chance.

On one side of the room, bright sunlight streamed through the glass window with its wooden frame, and a vase without flowers sat in the center of the checkered tablecloth.

Looking at the shirt he was wearing and the military jacket hanging on the chair next to the bed, "Kahn" took stock of his current situation.

Kahn, Kahn Miles—that's his current name. As for the name he was familiar with, Zhou Zhuo, it was obviously no longer acceptable.

"I" have just been promoted to second lieutenant, and at a young age, my future is bright.

The reason for his promotion... even surprised Kahn: this young Kahn was simply a genius.

He was not only an excellent horseman, but also fluent in four foreign languages, a superb marksman, and had a remarkable memory.

Most importantly, he was 1.83 meters tall, with a strong and powerful physique, black hair, and was quite handsome.

This is a typical template for "popularity," and it's no wonder that his superior, Lieutenant Colonel Miken, was reluctant to fire him for causing trouble.

Having the memories of his past life as Kahn, he possesses a huge advantage that others do not have.

Before World War II broke out, this soul from the 21st century seemed to have many choices.

There must be something in the universe that brought him here. And now that he's here, he has to do something.