Gravedigger of the Empire

Time is like a wild donkey; once it starts running, it never stops.

Lin Shoucheng left, utterly satisfied. He truly hadn't expected his trip to Germany to be so fruitful.

Joe was promoted a few days ago, and his face was full of victor's smile: Lieutenant Colonel of the British Empire, high-spirited and full of pride.

Maddie recently acquired a bottle of fine red wine from Munich. Although it's not very famous, its value lies in its rarity.

Vic's business expanded even further, with the disposal of army munitions within a hundred kilometers of Berlin being carried out at his factory.

Lieutenant Colonel McCann moved into a new house, his income has been increasing lately, and even his temper has improved a lot.

Lieutenant Kahn has struck it rich; his accounts hold tens of thousands of pounds and tens of thousands of dollars. By any measure, he's a wealthy man.

On Christmas Day in 1921, everyone he knew seemed to be very happy.

Sitting in a corner of his restaurant, Kahn watched the steam rising from the kitchen.

Soft snowflakes were falling outside, and gentle music was playing from the gramophone.

Stirring the thick soup in his bowl with a spoon, Kahn savored the moment of peace. He had finally adapted to his current life and could live a decent life.

Berlin has everything; it has the world's best wines, the fattest beef, and the most luxurious cars.

Bright red tomatoes, plump potatoes, juicy fruits, and fresh seafood filled the shop windows.

only……

It's just that ordinary people can't afford it.

"Click! Ding!" The door was pushed open. The hotel was already closed at this time, so the arrival of someone caught Kahn's attention.

He saw a man take off his snow-covered top hat and also saw a familiar, tall figure.

When Ron walked up to Kahn, much of the snow on his shoulders had melted.

He handed the hat to Ali behind him and, without being asked, pulled out a chair and sat down opposite Kahn.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Ron." Kahn continued stirring with his spoon, his tone relaxed. "What would you like to eat?"

"No! I've already had dinner." Ron declined Kahn's offer. "I need to talk to you about something."

Kahn released his grip on the spoon and gestured for him to proceed.

"You know I don't know many people in the military, and I don't like those Junkers either," Ron said, staring at Kahn.

Love walked over with a glass of water, glanced at Ali who was blocking his way, forcefully placed the glass in front of Ron, and then walked behind Kahn.

"Your subordinates are quite good." Ron glanced at the water glass in front of him, looking at the still sloshing water inside, and praised him.

"I think so too." Kahn picked up a spoon, scooped out a mouthful of hot soup, and put it in his mouth.

He stopped speaking, waiting for Ron to explain his purpose.

"I have an American friend who wants to start a company in Germany," Ron said, getting back to the point, but his tone was as if he were chatting aimlessly.

"If he were dealing with something else, I could help him, but what he's eyeing... is a rather unique market." Ron paused here, staring at Kahn.

"So this is why you came to see me," Kahn said casually, savoring the rich, flavorful broth.

"He's going to open a flying club in Germany," Ron said, getting to the point.

"There's nothing I can do about that, Mr. Ron! The French and British are keeping a close eye on things; these days, only birds can fly in the German sky." Kahn knew his own limitations.

Just kidding, if he had the ability to challenge the Treaty of Versailles head-on, General Sikert would have to become sworn brothers with him!

Let alone a mere lieutenant, even a lieutenant general sitting here might not be able to handle this matter.

Looking into Kahn's eyes, Ron nodded. "To be honest, I don't believe you can handle this kind of thing either. I've already done my best to help."

Without any hesitation, he stood up and said, "Then I won't bother you any longer! Merry Christmas, Lieutenant Kahn."

"Wait!" Kahn suddenly spoke up to stop Ron. "You said your friend is American?"

"That's right, he's an American businessman." Ron stood there, showing no intention of sitting down again.

"Let him come to me. I'll talk to him carefully and see if we can come up with a solution," Kahn changed his mind.

Because, in his fragmented memories, he found a path that seemed feasible.

The more difficult the task, the greater the benefits once it is accomplished.

Playing with fire is indeed very risky, but the higher the risk, the higher the reward!

What's that saying again? The bigger the storm, the more expensive the fish!

Others might not know, but he was very clear that there was a tiny bit of room for maneuver in this matter!

Ron frowned, because he really hadn't expected that the junior officer he had randomly chosen would actually have such great abilities.

Originally, he just wanted to give it a try and then give the American who paid him a satisfactory explanation.

That's his motto! Once he takes the money, he has to do the job. Whether he succeeds or not is another matter entirely.

But... things seemed to have gone beyond his expectations once again.

So he looked at Kahn carefully, as if he wanted to get to know the young lieutenant all over again.

Suddenly, a thought popped into his mind: It seems that he didn't take enough money from that American this time!

"What? Mr. Ron? You've changed your mind?" Kahn gave a tentative smile, glancing sideways at Ron as he stood up.

Ron looked down at Kahn, and after a long pause, he finally spoke, "Fine! I'll have him come here to find you!"

After he finished speaking, he took the top hat from his bodyguard Ali and put it on his head.

However, he did not turn around.

"You always surprise me, young man." With that, he strode towards the door without looking back. "What a beautiful snow!"

"Ding!" The door was opened, and the doorbell rang melodiously. Silence returned to the hotel, and no sound came from inside for a long time.

"Indeed...it's a beautiful snowfall." Kahn finished the last bit of his soup and looked out the window again; the streets were now a blanket of white.

Germany doesn't have the saying that a good snowfall foretells a bumper harvest, but a blanket of white snow that buries all the dirt is certainly delightful.

1921 passed by uneventfully, and 1922 arrived with a stumble and abrupt change.

The world seemed unchanged, except for a young man named Kahn who embarked on a path he had never walked in his previous life.