Gravedigger of the Empire

Chapter 79 Youth is Wonderful

"Sir—why do you always take a roundabout route back to the station?" Pierre asked curiously as he gently turned the steering wheel while driving his brand-new Daimler.

Every time he returned from or went to Army Headquarters, Kahn would have him drive a longer route.

This road wasn't anything special, and Boshe really wanted to know why Kahn was so attached to such an unremarkable road.

Aren't streetlights just ordinary streetlights? Aren't the buildings next to them just ordinary buildings? Aren't the people on the street just ordinary people?

Even the beggars on the streets and alleys are just ordinary beggars, no different from beggars in other places.

Kahn leaned against the car door, looking out the window at the street that felt both familiar and strange.

silence.

He couldn't answer that question because he had only one purpose for coming here: pilgrimage.

Berlin has many famous places, such as Princesstrasse, the Reichstag Building, and the Brandenburg Gate.

But for Kahn, nothing compares to this place, an ordinary little building on a street.

45A Croton Road.

Compared to this place, even the University of Berlin, which has Einstein, is just a small temple.

And here stands a monument.

It is a temple erected deep within Kahn's soul.

He made Bowser drive through the area again and again, just to catch another glimpse of it, or perhaps to catch a glimpse of that person.

No matter what, just seeing it from afar, even just a glimpse, is enough to satisfy him.

I dare not disturb you.

Like a crystal-clear snowflake held in his palm, Kahn was afraid that if he exhaled a breath of warm air, he would evaporate that hope.

The light was so faint, like a flickering candle flame, that it could be extinguished by the slightest breeze.

But Kahn wouldn't allow it to slip up in any way, not even if the risk came from him.

Without waiting for Kahn's reply, Beausher could only continue driving forward.

The person crossing the road forced him to slow down, and at the same time, Kahn's eyes suddenly lit up.

That face—etched in his memory, shines brighter than the stars.

He instinctively looked away, afraid that the other person would notice his presence.

The Daimler car brushed past the person on the side of the road, carefully weaved through the crowd, slowly drove across the street, and turned to the other side.

The young man turned and walked into the building, into 45A Croton Road.

In the back seat of the car, Kahn pulled out a piece of clothing engraved with the traditional German eagle emblem from his pocket.

The eagle folded its wings, raised its head high, and looked down upon the world with an imposing presence.

It wasn't until this moment that Kahn realized his hands were trembling uncontrollably.

Nervousness, excitement, joy, happiness—a multitude of emotions swirled in his mind.

Unlike when he wanted to assassinate Hitler, this time his hands were trembling not from resistance, but from excitement.

He couldn't calm down, nor could he fully regain control of his hands.

But the corners of his mouth were turned up, full of pride and smugness.

In a secluded corner of 1922, a soul saw the seeds of the future and was so happy it wanted to sing.

"Heh—heh heh." He opened the cigarette box with his somewhat unresponsive hand and pulled out a white cigarette with a gold trim.

With the cigarette in his mouth, he even forgot to reach for his expensive lighter.

He just leaned against the car window, grinning absentmindedly.

He saw it; he saw the idol he admired, and he saw the person he regrettably missed.

"Sir? Sir!" Bowser heard Kahn's strange laughter behind him, slowed down, and called out cautiously twice.

"Huh?" Kahn finally snapped out of his daze and responded instinctively.

"Are you alright?" Bowser asked with concern.

"Oh, it's nothing," Kahn replied, casually pulling out a lighter, lighting a cigarette, and taking a deep drag. The thick smoke instantly revitalized his lungs.

"Do you need to stop?" Bowser seemed to sense that Kahn's mood was a little off.

"No need." Kahn shook his head after a few seconds of silence, then added, "You don't need to take this route anymore."

"Huh?" This time, it was Bowser's turn to be a little confused.

Kahn offered no explanation.

The car drove slowly through the streets of Berlin, and no one inside spoke.

"Youth is wonderful—" Kahn suddenly laughed, a beautiful laugh.

He was so good when he was young.

Bowser paused for a moment, then laughed, "Yes, you're still young."

He's a bit older than Kahn, and his daughter Sofia is already ten years old.

"The situation in Germany is much better than we imagined—look at their canteen, what they're eating—corrupt and decadent capitalism!" Kudeski looked around and said to his partner in a very low voice.

Petrov looked around before nodding slightly and saying, "That's what I think too. This is important intelligence, and you should let Moscow know these details."

They've been at V organization for several days now, and it seems like their hearts are being corrupted by the evils of capitalism every day.

German cafeterias offer Spanish ham, French wine, and Italian cheese.

This is nothing like what they thought: that the Germans were at their wits' end and that cooperation with the Soviet Union was a last resort.

It is clear that the Germans were actively forming an alliance with the Soviet Union, rather than making a desperate choice out of desperation.

Although thousands of beggars can be seen on the streets, that is likely a consequence of capitalist expansion and has nothing to do with national strength.

They visited several factories in Germany over the past two days, and all of them were in production, showing absolutely no signs of a crisis.

"Our staff will arrive next week—the Germans want this to be kept absolutely secret, but—if we can work around it and let the British and French know—it seems to be more advantageous for us—" Petrov was not in charge of intelligence gathering; he was more interested in other things.

Kudsky nodded: "I'll have someone leak the intelligence to the British and French—but won't that affect the staff training?"

"That's why we arranged for two staff groups to visit Berlin—" Petrov said with a smug look on his face.

Kudsky nodded: "Well done, comrade! Now I can get started."

"Let's celebrate our victory with the enemy's wine! The French wine is really quite good, I must say." Petrov raised his glass and offered a perfunctory toast to Kudesky.

The other person also raised their glass, beaming, and said, "To the great Soviet! To the great cause of communism!"

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