Gravedigger of the Empire

Rommel stood outside the gates of the Daimler AG factory in Stuttgart, frowning as he watched Kahn walk into the factory.

He couldn't understand why meeting a company boss was more important than replacing the weapons of the entire infantry regiment.

What puzzled him even more was that the thing he and his regimental commander were anxiously hoping to upgrade some of their weapons and equipment seemed to be no big deal to this lieutenant from Berlin.

Nearly two thousand brand-new rifles, a dozen cannons, and several heavy machine guns... Kahn actually agreed to it right away.

The other party's request was simple: all the old weapons that were replaced should be reported as new.

Then all the inspections in Berlin will not cause any trouble for this shipment, and everyone will assume that the weapons are new.

And then what? Then they will be demolished and erased, leaving no evidence whatsoever.

Even more outrageous, Kahn would leave hundreds of thousands of extra rounds of ammunition for the entire 13th Infantry Regiment so that they could maintain high-intensity training.

This was a wonderful surprise.

"Is this how Berlin officers operate?" a guard standing next to Rommel muttered under his breath.

Rommel recalled those "unstatistically unrecorded" bullets, exhaled a breath of stale air, and shook his head, saying, "Maybe, or maybe it's just that Lieutenant Miles is a bit of a wild card."

Kahn sat across from Daimler's sales manager, and his military uniform caused the manager to misunderstand him slightly.

"Kahn Miles... sir, is there anything I can do for you?" The manager looked Kahn up and down, then glanced at Albert and Love standing behind him.

He had never seen such a combination before, and for a moment he was a little unsure.

"I'm here to buy a car," Kahn said directly. "You'd better take me to see Mr. Daimler."

"I'm the sales manager, Mr. Miles. It's the same talking to me." The manager didn't seem inclined to lead the way.

Kahn could even clearly sense that the other party didn't seem to like him much.

In reality, Kahn didn't have enough money to buy so many cars, and he couldn't possibly use his own money to buy so many cars for the defense force.

Just kidding, once this door is opened, Sickert will only need three days to spend all his savings.

"Lieutenant Kahn Miles, I regret to inform you that the Defence Force still owes Daimler a final payment of £39,000..." The manager looked at Kahn with an indifferent expression.

"If you want to purchase another batch of cars, you need to settle the balance before making any further payments..." He was very businesslike, actually expecting Kahn to pay back the money before discussing business.

The reason has been found: no wonder the Daimler manager didn't give him a friendly look; it turns out the defense force owes the company money!

Kahn quickly interrupted, "Wait a minute! Mr. Manager! I'm here on behalf of my own company to discuss a car procurement partnership. The Defense Force? What Defense Force?"

He hasn't even bought a car yet, and he's already paying off a huge debt for someone else? Does he really look like a sucker? Kahn thought to himself.

"You...aren't you an officer in the defense force?" the manager asked, somewhat puzzled.

Kahn's actions made him a little insecure, because he saw that Kahn was clearly wearing a full set of German Wehrmacht uniform.

"Oh!" Kahn looked down at his uniform, pretending to be a little slow on the uptake. "Sorry, I just got off the train and I have to go to the 13th Infantry Regiment on official business later, so I didn't change out of this uniform."

"I see. So, Mr. Kahn, what model and how many cars do you plan to purchase?" The sales manager, having regained his composure, immediately got to work.

As expected of a professional, the change of expression was incredibly natural and swift.

Kahn mentioned a model of truck, one of Daimler's flagship products.

He then mentioned the model of the Daimler sedan he was riding in: "I need both of these cars."

"How many do you need?" The manager's smile was already very bright, knowing that he would receive a commission from every car sold.

"About 50 cars. 180 trucks," Kahn said after a moment's thought.

"What?" The manager's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"See, I just said you should have taken me to see Mr. Daimler," Kahn said, looking at the dumbfounded sales manager with a hint of sarcasm.

"Let me formally introduce myself. I am Kahn Myers, chairman of the Berlin Gliding Club." Kahn gave a formulaic smile, leaned forward, and extended his hand.

The Daimler manager instinctively extended his hand and shook hands with Kahn: "Excuse me, I'll take you to see Mr. Daimler right away."

He couldn't possibly handle such a big deal himself; it's a contract worth tens of thousands of pounds, so it definitely requires Daimler's personal approval.

"We want to live! We want to eat!" A group of workers were shouting this slogan while holding up a sign at the entrance of a workshop.

The manager's expression was clearly unnatural as he led Kahn past.

"What... is going on?" Kahn asked curiously, glancing at the crowd of workers waving signs and chanting slogans.

"It's nothing... lately prices have been rising, so these guys are clamoring for a raise." The manager's eyes darted around.

He cursed inwardly: Isn't it all because your defense forces owe us a huge sum of money? Now half the workshops in the factory can't even pay their wages! If we don't find a solution soon, the factory will go bankrupt!

"We want to eat! We want to live!" The crowd seemed to have spotted Kahn and Love, so they shouted even louder.

Fortunately, the workers did not intend to escalate the situation, and their demonstration was limited to the entrance of their own workshop.

The chimneys in the distance stood one after another, seemingly without end.

But most of these chimneys didn't emit any black smoke, looking rather deserted.

This country is still alive, but it seems to be on the verge of death.

Some people are prolonging its life in their own way, while others are putting the last shovelful of soil on it with their own efforts.

"Mr. Daimler's office is just ahead," the manager said, pointing to a small building after walking a short distance.

Kahn followed the manager into the small building, and in a bright and clean office on the second floor, near the center, he met Daimler himself.

"You mean...you're going to buy more than 200 cars? For your own company?" Daimler squinted, confirming again after listening to Kahn's words.

"Yes!" Kahn replied.