Gravedigger of the Empire

When Löw and his wife entered the restaurant, Kahn was the only one left inside.

A sign for rest was hanging at the door, and there was not a single guest inside.

"From now on, you'll be in charge of this place. You don't need to make money, but the supply of goods must be stable," Kahn told Love as he showed the couple around.

He didn't actually care about the turnover here, and he didn't even care about the property itself.

In another ten years or so, when World War II breaks out, this place will probably be reduced to ruins, and nothing of value will be left behind.

But the supplies that supply this little shop are of high quality. Whether now or in the future, those who can get their hands on beef, flour, and potatoes are definitely among the most well-off people.

Kahn didn't expect these things to make him money, but he wanted to use them for bribery! After all, in an era when the mark was practically worthless, beef noodles were far more effective than banknotes.

"Leave some food every day to entertain friends who want to come here. Your friends, my friends... You understand what I'm talking about, right?" Kahn asked his subordinate calmly, watching the woman excitedly checking the kitchen utensils.

Love nodded: "Don't worry, I know what to do. I'll find a few helpers willing to work for you."

Hearing this, Kahn nodded with great satisfaction: "I've ordered some ingredients; we can celebrate tonight."

"The police will be coming by tomorrow for a casual look. You can get to know them. I've already paid them. You don't need to do anything else, just get to know them and tell them you're working for me." He then gave them a few more detailed instructions.

Love wasn't stupid; he silently noted down what Kahn had told him, and then a truck stopped in front of the store.

Two men got off the truck, glanced at the "Closed" sign hanging on the restaurant's door, and then peered inside through the glass.

Löw waved to them, and one of the men pushed open the door and came in: "We're here to deliver goods... Has someone else taken over here?"

"Yes, we can use this guy for deliveries from now on." Kahn pointed to Love.

"Okay, we don't care who's here, we're just responsible for delivering the stuff, nothing's changed, right?"

"No, if you have more flour, beef, sausages, butter, spices... you can send them over." Kahn wanted a lot of things.

The other person paused, then looked Kahn over again: "Sir, may I ask, was the original owner here...?"

"Alright, you don't need to ask these pointless questions. Don't be nervous, I bought this restaurant from Mr. Ron, and he promised to guarantee my needs." Kahn tapped his fingers on the counter a few times. "Now I'm the boss."

The man nodded, took a yellowed piece of paper from his jacket pocket, and handed it to Kahn: "This is the price. We can get you anything you want, it just depends on whether you have the money."

Kahn took the paper, glanced at it, and had no objection to the price: it was a bit expensive, but not outrageous.

"I want an extra 30 kilograms of beef, an extra 20 kilograms of flour, sausages... canned goods..." Kahn checked the price list and added the quantities one by one.

After saying that, he handed the form back to the other person: "Make me a copy later, otherwise it will be inconvenient for me to do the accounting."

After saying that, he took out US dollars from his pocket and started counting them one by one.

After counting the money, he handed it to the other person: "The extra money is for you to buy yourself some drinks... but you'll have to come here more often and restock for me whenever needed. Understand?"

"No problem!" Seeing that Kahn was so "cooperative", the man smiled, took the money, counted it again, stuffed it into his pocket, and walked out.

Then, he and the person waiting outside started working.

Potatoes, carrots, flour... Under Löw's watchful eye, all these things were carried into the kitchen by the two of them.

Then Löw's wife saw fresh beef, lots of canned goods, and things like butter and cheese.

"There's no way to store fresh meat here, so much...it'll spoil easily," Löw's wife kindly reminded Kahn.

Kahn smiled and said, "No need to store it. You can process the meat and divide it into portions. I'm taking it with me."

He's not here to do business and make money; he's here to use these things to do something...

The woman nodded and quickly went to find an apron and a kitchen knife.

……

Just as it was about time to leave work, Kahn pushed open the door to Mike's office. He walked in carrying some things, looking very obsequious.

Miken seemed to know what Kahn had done, and simply asked casually, "Is everything resolved?"

"Yes, it's all taken care of." Kahn didn't intend to hide anything: "This is a thank-you gift to Lieutenant Colonel for your help."

He placed the items on Miken's desk and opened the paper bag.

Mike peered inside and saw the beef.

This time, he didn't put on airs anymore, but instead smiled and said, "You're really something, kid. You managed to get so many good things."

"I have some connections, so I wanted to express my gratitude to you for your guidance, sir." Kahn feigned shyness, smiling as he touched the tip of his nose.

"Can you really cook food where you are?" Miken continued to ask.

"Of course, it's always been a restaurant." Kahn nodded.

"Would it be convenient if I brought a friend along?" Mike asked tentatively.

His meaning was very clear: whether it's convenient for me to "eat" there sometime in the future.

Of course, that's assuming it's free, and you might even need to take some home after you finish eating...

"Convenient! How could it not be convenient! Please feel free to come, someone will take care of you!" Kahn quickly agreed; this was the very reason he bought the hotel.

Soon, Mike returned home carrying the beef, and his wife was naturally shocked by the beef her husband had brought back.

However, the atmosphere quickly warmed up, and the wife, for the first time ever, postponed dinner, and the family soon enjoyed a delicious beef soup.

No one cared that on this very day, Berlin lost a fat man, a fat man who owned a restaurant.

No one cared that an old policeman had fired a shot; his superiors had even just glanced at the report before submitting it to their superiors.

After seeing the part involving foreigners, the police superintendent pretended not to understand and sealed the report away.

As long as the British didn't take the matter to the diplomats in Berlin, there was no need for them to continue entangled in this matter.

As for that dead thug... well, he's dead, what else can we do?

Nothing happened in Berlin that day.