German Red Prince

“Pan Xiaoyu? From Beiping?” Cao Yu frowned. “Then that Prince of Beiping…”

“That’s my father,” Pan Xiaoyu replied before Cao Yu could finish speaking.

Upon hearing this, Cao Yu's expression changed, and he withdrew his hand.

"So it's Young Master Pan. My apologies," Cao Yu said coldly.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Pan Xiaoyu looked puzzled. Why did his tone change so suddenly?

"Your father helped the Qing Dynasty a lot. Should I thank you on behalf of the fallen soldiers of the Northern Expedition?"

"Huh? You're a traitor from the south..." Pan Xiaoyu blurted out, then suddenly realized he had said the wrong thing and quickly covered his mouth.

"Yes, we are the rebels from the south. Sure enough, in your eyes we are just bandits. You call us bandits just to take back what rightfully belongs to us. You are the real bandits!" Cao Yu said angrily to Pan Xiaoyu, then turned and left.

"What's wrong?" Adolf asked, looking at the dejected Pan Xiaoyu. They were just laughing and talking a moment ago, how did they start arguing?

"It's nothing, I just ran into someone from my hometown."

"Shouldn't you be happy?"

"We should be happy, but we come from different places."

"What do you mean?" Adolf asked, puzzled. "Aren't you from the same country? Why are you arguing because you come from different regions?"

"Well, that's a long story," Pan Xiaoyu said slowly to Adolf, explaining the current situation in China.

“So that’s how it is.” Adolf also sighed. Pan Xiaoyu came from a wealthy family, so his class hatred wasn’t strong, while the other one came from a revolutionary regime, and from the bottom of society, so his class hatred and revolutionary consciousness were definitely stronger than his.

It's understandable that this would happen when two people from completely different social classes meet.

"I really don't understand why they would rebel. Can't they just stay home and live a peaceful life? Why do they have to do things that could get them killed?" Pan Xiaoyu said, distressed.

"You'll understand eventually," Adolf comforted him.

After a while, Goebbels hurriedly walked in from outside, took off his hat, and began his usual speech and explanations. Pan Xiaoyu listened as usual, but he still couldn't understand what he was saying.

"Hello, Skol," Pan Xiaoyu greeted the worker who had come over and sat down beside him.

"A bottle of Snow Beer," the worker said, also greeting Pan Xiaoyu.

Pan Xiaoyu is generous and has many worker friends.

"Hey? Where's Howard? I haven't seen him."

“Him,” Skol sighed, “his leg was broken, and he’s lying at home waiting to die.”

"What happened? Your leg is broken? Why didn't you go to the hospital?"

“Go to the hospital?” Skol couldn’t help but laugh. “You have to be able to afford it. The factory is unwilling to pay compensation, and he can’t afford to stay in the hospital either. Mr. Goebbels was just arguing with that factory owner. How could he possibly pay so easily?”

"There are still people who can't afford to stay in the hospital?" Pan Xiaoyu was somewhat surprised. In his worldview, being sick and hospitalized was as natural as eating and sleeping.

“Not everyone is like you.” Skol gave a wry smile; the real world is never that wonderful.

"Let's go see Hodley," Pan Xiaoyu said, somewhat saddened, after all, he was also his friend.

When Pan Xiaoyu arrived at Howard's house, he truly realized what poverty was. His house was empty, with hardly anything, but he had quite a few children, three of them, all of whom looked malnourished.

Without money to go to the hospital, Hodley lay in bed waiting to die. He was the sole breadwinner for his family, and now that he was dying, the family would starve to death.

Pan Xiaoyu suddenly realized how ignorant he had been. There were so many things he didn't understand. In his eyes, everything was peaceful and serene, which was why he couldn't understand why those people would stage a rebellion. Now he probably understood. This was the real society, the real world. He finally understood what kind of lives those people were living.

Before leaving, he gave Hodley's wife a receipt and told her to go to the bank to withdraw money. He had brought quite a bit of money with him, and it would be enough for Hodley's hospitalization.

Pan Xiaoyu felt genuinely upset. There are many people in this world who live very difficult lives. Not everyone is like him, a rich young master. As he recalled Cao Yu's words, a ripple stirred within him, as if something had touched him.

That evening, he went to take care of the "fallen girls" in Berlin as usual, but his mood was no longer the same. He looked at the various carefully cared-for flowers in the room, and then at the girl in front of him. If it weren't for the pressure of life, who would want to do this?

"Don't do this anymore, go do some legitimate business." Pan Xiaoyu placed a bulging wallet on the bed. "Go do some legitimate business, there's no future in staying here. Open a flower shop, do what you want to do."

After putting his wallet down, he got up and left. Outside, Pan Xiaoyu silently lit a cigarette, staring at the intersection in front of him, lost in thought.

Chapter Sixty-Four: Conspiracy

"Grot, what is your reason for going to Darmstadt?"

Thomas, suppressing his nausea, looked earnestly at Grote, who was tied up and electrocuted, and began to question him.

At this point, Grote was so excited by the electric shock that his mind was almost blank. Without any sense of defense, he quickly answered.

"Wow, when I went to Darmstadt, someone there recommended that there were some good deals there," Grote said haltingly.

"Beautiful? What do you mean? Is it that banquet?" Thomas asked immediately.

"That's right, it's that banquet. They hold it every so often. To attend, you have to pay a lot of money, otherwise they won't let you in."

How much does it cost to participate once?

“Fifty thousand, fifty thousand marks,” Grot said, his voice trembling.

"Fifty thousand marks?!"

Thomas was shocked when he heard this. 50,000 marks per person, ...0,000 marks for ten people, that's 500,000 marks! Wow, he could earn at least 500,000 marks in one night!

How many people participate in each event? How long has this kind of event been running? How many times has it been held?

"I don't know, I estimate there are about twenty or thirty people. I don't know how long it has been going on, but I've already been there four times."

"Four times? You've already spent two hundred thousand marks there?"

"I, I deposited a total of 500,000 marks there."

"Oh!"

Thomas slammed his fist on the table. "Well, there are still so many people in Germany who are starving, and you're playing around like this, spending 500,000 marks without even blinking an eye!"

The interrogation is probably over. This guy was just looking for fun, so he won't get much access to core secrets. That's about all the information we can get from him.

Thomas stood up, holding his report. "Let's go, the interrogation is over."

“Then this guy…” an interrogator asked hesitantly, pointing at Grote who was about to ascend.

"He... he likes it this way, doesn't he? Let him play for a while." Thomas snorted and left the interrogation room.

"I got the information." Thomas handed the interrogation report to Heydrich, sat down, and rubbed his eyes. He needed to calm down; the interrogation would make him feel unwell for a while.

"Fifty thousand per person?" Heydrich frowned as he looked at the report. If each event had twenty people, that would be one million marks in one night. And if they held four events in total, that means the mayor had already made four hundred million marks from these banquets!

Four million marks! An ordinary person could earn that much money in several lifetimes, but he earned it in just a few nights. It's ironic. The current economic situation is bad, but it seems to have nothing to do with these people. When the economy is good, they control the wealth, and when the economy is bad, they still control the wealth.

The so-called economic difficulties have nothing to do with these people. In fact, they may even make a fortune from this. The official German newspapers are promoting the idea that we are in a painful period of economic transformation, and that everyone should endure this period together and overcome the difficulties. Now it seems ridiculous. Who wants to overcome the difficulties with you?

If you feel burdened, it's because someone is making your life peaceful for you. Oppression? Where is the oppression? They are also members of Germany's tens of millions of people, and they don't feel any oppression.

“We need to investigate the whereabouts of these millions of marks. With that much money, there are countless things they can do,” Heydrich said.

“That’s right, and they seem to have connections with the Unity of Germany party. It would be terrible if those people got their hands on the money.” Thomas nodded in agreement.

"Pass the word down to check the mayor's account in Darmstadt and see what he did with the money," Thomas ordered the Stasi beside him. He was now certain that there was a huge conspiracy going on in Darmstadt.

Fred quietly followed the mayor, secretly installed a listening device on him, and began eavesdropping from the side.

The mayor walked into the room, where someone was already waiting for him.

"Mr. Mayor, you've been having a lot of fun lately," the man inside said coldly.

“Mr. Foghhaus, what are you saying?” The mayor smiled. “What brings you here today?”

"What's the matter?" Furhausen paused. "You know yourself why I'm here. Of course, the party leader has a mission for me."

"You've earned so much money, and all this stuff was prepared for you by us. Shouldn't you give something in return? After all, we, the Unity of Germany, aren't charities."

“This…” The mayor hesitated for a moment, “Yes, yes, it’s my pleasure, it’s my pleasure. One million marks, I’ll send it to you later.”

“One million marks?” Fauci’s tone was clearly displeased. “Mayor, you’re really generous!”

The atmosphere in the room was clearly off, and indeed it was. Fowler pulled out a gun and pointed it at the mayor, who broke out in a cold sweat.

“Let me tell you, if it weren’t for us, where would you be today? One million marks? Who do you think you are? Everything here is provided by us. You really think you’re someone important? You must have made a fortune these days. One million marks, and you have the nerve to say that?”

"Yes, yes, it's my fault for being so ungrateful. Just tell me the number, and I'll send it over to you," the mayor pleaded hastily.

“Seven million marks,” Fauci stated calmly.

"Seven million marks!" the mayor couldn't help but exclaim. "Mr. Foghaus, what does the party leader need so much money for? That's way too much!"

"That's a lot? You've made more than seven million these days, haven't you?" Furhouse sneered. "The party leader has his reasons for wanting so much. Are you unwilling to give it to him?"

"How could I dare? I'll give it to you, I'll give it to you." The mayor swallowed hard, gritted his teeth, and thought that even if it bled, his life was more important.

"You're smart to know what's good for you." Fauhaus's tone softened considerably. "How are the targets for Rheinmetall?"

"Everything is normal, everything is normal, it will be delivered on time every time."

“Yes, very good.” Fürhaus nodded. “I will report to the party leader. You do a good job. With the party leader and the Unity of Germany around, no one will dare to touch you in Darmstadt.”

"Thank you, Party Leader!" the mayor hurriedly said, after all, without the support of the Unity of Germany Party, he would have been finished long ago.

He can't turn back now and can only go all the way down this dark road. However, he is also a smart man. Knowing that he might become a pawn, he has long prepared an escape route. He has a secret account and has prepared everything so that he can run away at any time. As soon as he senses that something is wrong, he will immediately flee Germany and run to America on the other side of the ocean.

“You should still be more discreet. Even though we're here, you'd better be careful. Behave yourself lately and don't cause trouble for yourself.” Faucus stood up to leave. “Also, find a way to get that second prince of the Rhine Kingdom to come to Darmstadt. The party leader has a next plan.”

"Your Highness Thorne? Have you summoned him to Darmstadt? What business does the party leader have with him?"

"That's none of your business, it's not your concern," Faucus said coldly.

"But how can we get Prince Thorne to come?" the mayor asked. Given the current situation in Darmstadt, wouldn't sending that prince over be suicide?

"That's your problem," Fauci said and left.

Fred knew they had finished talking and gathered enough information, so he took his equipment and left, returning to his room.

The mayor arrived shortly afterward. He opened the door and saw only a few burly men sitting there; he did not see Fred.

Where is Mr. Grote?

"They're inside; they haven't come out yet."

"They haven't come out yet?" The mayor was somewhat surprised. Their physical fitness was incredible; they were playing like freaks.

Hearing the commotion, Fred came out of the house. "Hello, Mayor."

The mayor was even more surprised to see Fred looking so relaxed. He had been playing inside for hours and was still acting like nothing had happened. Was he even human?

"The guy inside is asleep, I'm leaving now." Fred left after secretly taking the eavesdropping device from the mayor.

The mayor's expression as he watched Fred leave was quite interesting.

"Has Mr. Grote not come out?" he asked, looking at the person beside him.

"No, it's been inside the whole time."

My God, what kind of monster is this? It was knocked unconscious but is still acting like nothing happened. You really can't judge a book by its cover. This is terrifying.

Fred left the house and went to the Stasi's hiding place. "Pass the message to His Highness and Thomas. There is indeed a big problem here!"

Thomas received the information and combined the interrogation results with this intelligence. Sure enough, there was a conspiracy involved, and a rather large one at that.

"Tell His Highness about the current situation and let him decide on the next steps."

"Yes!"

Upon receiving the order, the Stasi saluted and left the room.

"Things are getting more and more interesting." Thomas looked at the intelligence he had gathered; this place was indeed a den of snakes and rats.

Chapter Sixty-Five: Report on an Investigation of the German Working Class

Another day passed, and Thorne rubbed his neck as he walked out of the factory. These past few days had exhausted him.

"These beasts, am I stupid? Why do they still keep ordering me around?" Thorne complained as he walked.

When he first came over, Thaler said that Thaler was not very bright, and Thorne thought he was getting a good deal because he could make his work easier. But now he's getting more and more eager to do things for him, and he's making him do all sorts of tasks.

When it came time to calculate wages, they shortchanged him. Thorne asked a question, and seeing the foreman's shocked expression, he thought, "Damn it, do they really think I'm stupid?"

“Your Highness, he’s not doing charity work.” Holman chuckled. “He only cares about how much money you can make. He’d rather everyone be a fool who can’t do math.”

Listening to Holman's words, Thorne sighed. It's so corrupt, the capitalists these days are so corrupt!

He is now covered in grime and smells of engine oil. His hands are no longer as smooth and delicate as before, and have many wounds.

The oil stains under his fingernails were impossible to wash off; they were black and grimy. This grotesque appearance didn't resemble that of a refined prince; it looked more like someone hiding under a quilt under a bridge.