Threatened by the foreman's club, Weiss re-entered the tent. The smell of stinking came to his nose, and these miscellaneous servants who were not ashamed of being dirty also cast ill-intentioned glances at him, as if to say: Newcomers, they will always be cut down when they first come. Think it's unfair? Feeling aggrieved? Endure it and get used to it.

CNMD！

Weiss frowned and clenched his fists. To survive in humiliation is to keep a useful body, not to let these lowly bugs trample on their dignity, the dignity of a federal officer, the dignity of a defender of freedom!

In this tent, except for a narrow aisle in the middle, people are next to each other, and there is no place to put their feet at all. If you want to make a bunk out, it's not a matter of seeing the stitches, but to convince them with your fists and let them honestly squeeze out a position!

For a long time, Weiss has not found a way to detect his own combat effectiveness, so he can only roughly refer to Nikolai's combat values, and speculate that his combat potential when he stabs his empty fist is about 9, and his protection is about 5. This squint and see, a group of miscellaneous servants, the combat potential is high and low, some reach 13, some only 5, and the protection value ranges from 3 to 7.

Weiss is not a bully, he never does anything to bully, but today the situation is special, and an exception must be made. He quickly selected two "five scum", walked towards them with blankets, stared at them without saying a word, dropped the blankets, and motioned for them to give way.

Seeing that the newcomer was so arrogant, one of them immediately burst out, shouting something in his mouth, and the other stood up not to be outdone.

Weiss didn't look at their looks carefully, and didn't compare with them, grabbed the arm of the man on his right, turned, arrived, pulled, and flipped, and made an over-the-shoulder fall in a coherent and rapid movement, then moved half a step sideways, locked on the target out of the corner of his eye, kicked the ground with his left foot, twisted his body, and threw out a whip leg, kicking the man on his left to the ground.

The whole action was done in one go, and it took only three to five seconds!

The newcomer actually dared to pick two, and most of the people in the tent stood up at once. But Weiss's face was fearless, and his eyes were only fixed on the two unlucky ones he had chosen. With this kick, he poured a lot of strength, but it was not enough to completely knock the two of them down. I saw them get up in embarrassment, glaring at Weiss in surprise and unwillingness. The taller man shouted, and the two stepped forward together, attacking left and right.

Weiss had no way back, he held his bottom and flashed his upper body backwards to avoid his opponent's edge. Without waiting for them to retract their fists, they threw their left fists with swift momentum to open the arms of both of them, flexing their right arms and throwing a powerful uppercut like a spring that slammed into the tall man's face. The punch hit the bridge of his nose and almost smashed his high nose flat.

Without waiting for Weiss to retract his punch, the short man grabbed his right arm, hooked his right leg, and tried to slam his waist and crotch with his knee, but the short leg was short, and the knee was against the base of his thigh. Long-term military training has made Weiss's originally weak body much stronger, and the tight leg muscles have defused most of the impact, protecting the tendons and bones well. Weiss pulled his right arm down, his left arm passed above his right arm, his palm grabbed his opponent's head, his right shoulder pushed against his chest, and the strength of his upper body was poured into the scissor hand, pulling and flicking, and gave the opponent a beautiful sideways over-the-shoulder throw!

After two consecutive blows, although the five scumbags were still able to get up, they were already dizzy and frightened.

The surrounding miscellaneous servants did not pounce on Weiss, life was so boring, it was finally a bit of a "show", they were like a group of spectators watching the boxing match live, shouting excitedly, waving their hands and clapping their hands, and they almost won or lost the bet.

There was such a commotion in the tent, and the foreman shouted and cursed viciously outside. The handymen were like rats that heard a cat's meow and immediately fell silent. Weiss did not make a move, but looked at the two battle scumbags with a cold gaze, completely overwhelming them in momentum. The two stood in place, the fight just now made them see the difference in the combat effectiveness of the two sides, and it seemed that they would only be beaten when they stepped forward, but if they gave up their bunks, they would have nowhere to stay.

Seeing that the three men were no longer fighting, the handymen were bored, but they did not continue to make a fuss because of the foreman's intimidation, but returned to their respective bunks. Weiss wasted no time in walking to the two scumbags on the floor, picking up his blankets, kicking aside their mattresses, mattresses, clothes, and so on, and sat down in the middle corner.

After a while, the two unlucky ones moved over and cowered as they picked up their belongings. There was no way to squeeze out more bunks in the tent, and to go outside was not only cold, but also to face the foreman's club, and they stood there bewildered, looking at Weiss with pitiful eyes from time to time.

Weiss only occupies a small half of the bunk between the two, in fact, they can take turns to sleep, or make do with a half-lying position together, but Weiss did not show mercy, but told them with indifferent eyes, success and defeat, here, there is no place for you to stay!

The two unlucky "war scumbags" looked at each other, walked helplessly to the door of the tent, and sat down in the aisle back to back, only to be ridiculed by the handymen next to them, and some of them playfully rested their feet on their laps. For the taunts and teasing of their companions, the two did not dare to be angry.

The night before, the wound of vitality, and then another tiring day, Weiss felt very sleepy, but in this strange and unfriendly environment, he did not dare to sleep at ease, and always sat in the corner, ready to get up and fight again. However, the handymen clearly did not have an indomitable spirit. That night, Weiss was undisturbed until the foreman's angry shouting woke him from his tumultuous sleep. He jumped to his feet in an instant, his head dizzy, but this dizziness was not the same as the vertigo caused by the previous waste of energy, and in just a few seconds, the victory and mental state returned to normal. The foreman was beating a handyman with a stick, and the guy who was beaten was one of the two people Weiss had beaten yesterday. At this time, another "war scumbag" was picking up the bedding and clothes on the ground, and begging the foreman for mercy in a low voice.

If you didn't pick a "soft persimmon" last night, but paid attention to it in the aisle, you should be the one who will be beaten at this time! Weiss thought to himself.

The foreman beat and scolded again and again, and the miscellaneous servants dared to procrastinate, so they hurriedly left their "pig's nest" and went out to gather. When I stepped out of the tent, I felt a deep coolness in the air. It was just dawn, the barracks were quiet, and there was not a single Norman soldier in sight. Judging by yesterday's situation, the activities of the miscellaneous servants are always under the watchful eye of the soldiers.

Does this mean that early morning is the best time to escape?

Weiss pondered quietly, and coldly heard the sound of an urn behind him, and said angrily, "Don't think about running away, it's good to be alive."

There was no need to turn his head, Weiss knew that the speaker was a meaty foreman. The guy was yelling in the tent just now, in at least three different languages, and that didn't include Ulster. Aside from diplomats and international traffickers, who needs to be so multilingual?

"I'm not a prisoner, I'm a handyman." Weiss argued.

"Yes, you look like a handyman." The foreman replied meaningfully, "But I still have to warn you that if you fail to escape, you'd better end up with yourself, or you'll be harmed not only by Lieutenant Sutter-Dietern, but by all of us here." ”

Weiss was both surprised and curious that this man seemed to have an unusual relationship with Lieutenant Sutter-Dietern, or that something like that was not uncommon, and more importantly, that he didn't seem to mind hiding his identity with the help of the Miscellaneous Servants and then waiting for an opportunity to escape. Could it be that they were all members of the secret Norman anti-war group?

The thought popped up in his head, and Weiss's thoughts stretched out at once, even thinking of the huge Norman Empire crashing down in the anti-war wave. He wanted to get a little more out of the foreman, but he didn't expect this guy to pretend to be deep just now, and in a blink of an eye, he slapped a stick on Weiss's shoulder, swearing in his mouth, but speaking Norman.

Weiss hurried into the ranks of the miscellaneous servants, and turned to see a small group of Norman soldiers with rifles on their backs not far away. They yawned as they walked, but their eyes weren't foggy at all. Next, the foreman instructed a few handymen to haul a cart of tools and a cart of sacks from the warehouse, and then led the loose team south. The Norman soldiers followed not far behind, and from this point of view, the Normans were not very comfortable with their miscellaneous troops.

As he walked, Weiss suddenly found that in front of him on the left was the prisoner of war camp where he had stayed before, where there were still a few sections of the fence left, and there were still charred craters on the ground, and the blood-soaked mud showed a palpitating dark red, but there were no prisoners of war in sight, and there were no corpses and large and small fragments in sight.

As the battle line progresses, this abandoned prisoner of war camp may soon be forgotten, or the federal side will erect a monument here to mourn the Union soldiers who died here, and this brave and decisive night raid that rescued many federal prisoners of war is itself very worthy of remembrance and remembrance.

Led by the foreman, the detachment went to the south of the barracks and repaired the anti-aircraft gun emplacements and shelters with great fanfare, and from then on a railway line that had temporarily interrupted transportation not far to the east. In this arrangement, it feels like the barracks that had been attacked by the Union army at night would be put to good use, perhaps to build a new prisoner of war camp, or to become a material transfer and defense point. From the northern border to here, the Norman army's supply line is more than 2,000 miles long, and the number of troops on the front line and the length of the battle line can only solve a very limited problem even if all the air transportation capacity is used.

Despite not eating well and sleeping badly the day before, Weiss's physical and mental condition continued to improve, whether it was repairing trenches or stacking bunkers, and he could be a model for the Miscellaneous Servants if he wanted to, but he didn't have to do anything to contribute to the Norman Empire. While working here, he took the rare opportunity to observe the words and deeds of the Normans up close, and in the middle of the morning and half of the afternoon, the planes of the Union Army appeared in the clouds, they were small and nimble, and they came and went without a trace, and the Norman army was completely defenseless.