Chapter 725: Charlatan

After seeing Brauchitsch off, Anna watched as Akado gulped down boiled water and began to knead his shoulders out of concern. “My dear, is it necessary to waste your breath on them? Why not just hand it over to Heydrich to deal with? These guys always think they are the most patriotic, and they love to put on a facade of serving the country and the people. It makes me sick to look at them.”

“I am already standing at the highest point of this country, my dear,” Akado said, closing his eyes and enjoying Anna’s massage. He spoke slowly, “As a superior, I must tolerate different voices around me. This is a form of tolerance and balance, a constant reminder to myself to be humble and just, and to maintain a clear head when handling affairs. After all, anyone can make a mistake. It’s better to have someone constantly reminding you than for everyone to make a mistake together.”

“So you tolerate that General Staff that opposes you from time to time? Won’t that shake your authority in the military?” Anna asked with a frown, letting out a small, annoyed huff.

“Am I not working so hard precisely to create such an environment? They question me, and that’s good. At the very least, it means that if I really do make a mistake, someone will discover it and be suspicious. If it ever comes to a day where my word becomes a holy decree that no one dares to question, then this country will truly be in danger,” a faint smile appeared on Akado’s face as he closed his eyes. “True power is power that is balanced. The old President Hindenburg once told me that once power loses its balance, it will eventually be consumed by it.”

Anna was about to say more, but Akado interrupted her. “You don’t understand these things, so don’t worry about it. For the time being, help me ask Cindra what the arrangements are…”

He had just said this when he heard a knock on the door. Akado said, “Come in,” and Anna stepped aside, standing behind Akado’s sofa. The person who entered was the Führer’s personal secretary, Miss Cindra. “My Führer, your guest is already waiting in the secret laboratory on the floor below. You may go down personally.”

Akado stood up, nodded, made a gesture to Anna not to follow, and then walked out of the room himself. Anna looked at Cindra. The two of them had been assigned to Akado’s side together, but now they had different statuses. One was already the Führer’s lover, while the other was married to another man.

“He’s been attending these strange events more and more frequently lately,” Anna said, looking at Cindra with some unease. “I don’t know why he’s so curious about such strange things, but please, you and those people, stop trying to please the Führer with this kind of thing.”

“Perhaps you have misunderstood something. These people were all personally invited by the Führer himself. I am just carrying out the tasks he has assigned,” Cindra replied to Anna’s question in a slightly mechanical tone. “I also don’t know why the Führer is interested in such unfounded things, but don’t we also believe? Believe that he is a gift from God!”

In the dim basement, rows upon rows of white candles were lit. The room was filled with smoke, making Akado involuntarily frown. He hated the choking feeling of a smoke-filled room; it was as decadent as being in some cheap mahjong parlor.

A scrawny old man in a black robe was muttering something there. On the floor, a huge hexagram magic circle was drawn in a strange-looking color. This thing did pique Akado’s curiosity. None of the so-called psychics who had come to the Führer’s residence before had ever played with such a high-level setup.

Around this hexagram, some strange spells were drawn with symbols that no one could understand. It could be said that this was the first time Akado had seen real European black magic. He stood with his hands behind his back, curiously looking at the large magic circle at his feet, not paying attention to what the old man was muttering.

Akado was already 39 years old this year. Including the nearly thirty years he had lived in another world, he could be considered a person with considerable experience. With a psychological age of nearly 60, he was beginning to ponder the matter of his transmigration more and more frequently.

He began to believe in some strange doctrines and would from time to time squeeze in some time to read some European records of gods and monsters. In the past two years, as Germany’s war of external expansion had progressed, his mind had also begun to seek a spiritual anchor. And so, after accidentally hearing that people like psychics and magicians really existed, he had sought these people out, treating them as half-psychological counselors to relieve the anxiety in his heart.

However, it was regrettable that these so-called masters who had come to the Führer’s residence had been somewhat of a disappointment to Akado. These people were either just charlatans with a little knowledge of psychology, or they were something like believers—the latter were self-cultivators like monks or Taoist priests. They firmly believed in the existence of gods in the world but had no way to prove it.

For example, in one attempt at the Führer’s residence, a charlatan psychic had put on a clumsy performance similar to an Eastern “ghost possession,” a “jumping the great god” dance with a talent that even Akado, whose soul was from China, found somewhat impressive. In order to please Akado, this self-proclaimed messenger of God had said that Akado was a gift from God to mankind, that Akado in his previous life was the incarnation of Jesus Christ.

The farce had lasted for half an hour. Akado had had the man sent away, and from that day on, for several months, he had not mentioned such superstitious matters. But a few months later, a more professional charlatan had appeared before Akado, claiming that Akado was an Eastern deity, summoned here by God to save the suffering German people. This line of reasoning had made Akado somewhat half-believing, and it was precisely because he had seen a glimmer of a turning point that Akado had begun to frequently summon these “magicians” from all over Europe.

In fact, Akado did not completely believe in such deeply mysterious things, but in his heart, he had a firm belief. After all, his soul had once completed a transmigration, which made him even more convinced of the idea that humans have souls. And corresponding to this was the even more ethereal thing of theism.

Akado wanted to figure out the reason for his transmigration, and he also very much wanted to know what his transmigration meant. He really wanted to get to the bottom of this matter, to resolve the trace of unease buried deep in a corner of his heart. But unfortunately, at least for now, he was becoming more and more disappointed.

Because apart from this exquisite magic circle, which had given Akado a little bit of the feeling of a medieval fantasy novel, in fact, the things the old man was endlessly muttering were, in Akado’s ears, no different in essence from a recitation of the Avatamsaka Sutra.

A few minutes later, just as Akado’s interest was about to be completely extinguished, the other party also put away the thick book that looked to have a great sense of historical vicissitudes and said to Akado, “Führer, your previous life was a respected Chinese emperor…”

“Alright! Sir! Stop talking nonsense,” upon hearing this, Akado immediately interrupted the other. It was clear that this old charlatan must have heard some of the Führer’s preferences from some colleague and was now trying to cater to them.

The other party seemed to have done some homework. For example, he knew that after hearing he was from the East, Akado had rewarded a certain charlatan with 1,000 gold marks. He also knew that before the Führer had made his fortune, he had once done arms business with China. It was a pity this person hadn’t become a spy, Akado thought weakly.

As Akado walked out with his hands behind his back in disappointment, he ordered the two tall SS soldiers standing at the door, “Escort this old gentleman out of here, and then tidy this place up. The laboratory sign on the door can be taken down. This place will be converted into a warehouse. I think I have no need to waste my precious time on such ethereal things.”

Another failure made Akado feel that it was very foolish of him to have recently pinned his future on something as illusory as transmigration. If such things were really as common as roadside charlatans, then Stalin would have at least 30 transmigrator staff officers. At that time, perhaps the Soviets would have long since been using AK-47s and driving T-72 tanks.

In the smoke-filled room just now, he had finally figured one thing out: at least for now, there were no prescient geniuses in the opposing camp that made him wary. The wheel of world history had been disrupted by him alone, not by a group of people. Otherwise, the world now would not be like this at all.

Cindra was waiting at the exit for Akado to come out, but seeing his disappointed and somewhat self-deprecating expression, she did not immediately report the telegram tucked under her arm.

“If you want to laugh, then laugh,” Akado shrugged, making a gesture he considered rather youthful. “You see, even I think this is a very boring matter. If I ever think of such an inexplicable thing again, you can remind me. I will take it as a warning.”

“Yes! My Führer!” Cindra did not know about the core secret of Akado’s transmigration and naturally felt that this whole thing was just superstition. So, hearing the Führer say this, a relieved smile appeared on her face.

“The content of the telegram, is it news that Army Group A is already in position?” Akado asked his secretary, Cindra, who was following behind him as he walked up the stairs.

“Yes! My Führer!” When it came to work, Cindra became capable and efficient. “A telegram from Field Marshal von Rundstedt. His troops have already entered their attack positions and have sent out reconnaissance units to harass the Soviet defenders opposite. There is intelligence indicating that the enemy is setting up strong defenses. The Field Marshal requests your permission to launch the attack immediately.”

“En, send him a telegram. Let him launch the attack at his discretion. Distract Zhukov’s attention so that the battle in the south can proceed more smoothly,” Akado said, stopping to think for a moment before giving the order.

Published: 2025-09-22T03:35:07.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2026-03-12T19:03:05.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c725-139443784

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