Mussolini changed into a dress, since he was going to meet the king, of course he had to dress in line with the decency of a prime minister, but unfortunately he was too indulgent to himself some time ago, so that his figure was a little unsightly.

So His Excellency the Prime Minister could only desperately tighten his belt with the help of two adjutants, and Mussolini only hoped that the summons would not be too long, and he would still be able to hold on for an hour or two.

Surrounded by several adjutants and guards, the Italian dictator descended the stairs, and Colonel Badoglio and Colonel Paolo were already standing in the ground floor hall waiting.

Mussolini had his own fleet, among which was a German Mercedes-Benz 770 convertible, which was a gift from Hitler. However, as a fascist leader full of national pride, Mussolini insisted on riding Italian products, and this time he still chose his favorite Fiat 2800 "Vittorio. Emanuele III's 1939 luxury convertible, which he thought was named after the king, was a better complement to his status as prime minister.

Because it was just an ordinary summons, Mussolini did not gather his guards, but only took a few armed guards with him and led the way in a chariot.

Mussolini was assassinated several times, the most dangerous of which was a bullet that pierced his nose and nearly took the dictator's life. He was well aware that there were many people in Italy who wanted to kill him, including liberals, socialists, reds, anarchists, and the remnants of the fascist fundamentalist factions that had been suppressed in the past, as well as a chaotic mass of civil society groups and organizations, some of whom hated the fascist system, some of whom hated the government purely, and many of whom simply hated him as a person.

Mussolini, however, insisted on riding in an open-top to show his contempt for the Assassins in front of the public, and the Italians admired the strong and the brave, and as a leader, they had to be fearless and not show the slightest cowardice.

The convoy passed through the streets of Rome, an ancient city that had not been extensively renovated for a long time, with slightly outdated public facilities and buildings, many of which still retained the appearance of the 18th century, but which Mussolini greatly admired, forbidding the construction of new buildings in the city, and constantly excavating and renovating monuments from the Roman era, in order to recreate the glory of the Roman Empire.

The Quirinal Palace, which was a papal residence until the arrival of the royal family of Savoy, has been renovated by generations of popes and houses a large number of exquisite artifacts from the Roman era. With a row of tall barracks and gun forts built around the palace, it is clear that the palace itself also had some military purpose.

Mussolini's car went straight to the entrance of the palace, because it was just an ordinary audience, so there was no guard of honor at the door to welcome him, and everything was no different from usual. The Prime Minister and the Field Marshal of the Kingdom entered the palace gates under the guidance of the chief of guards, and Mussolini had no idea what was waiting for him, and still kept the arrogant and reserved appearance of a dictator with his head tilted.

Walking down the beautifully decorated corridors, Mussolini noticed that there were many more guards around than usual, but given that the country was going through war, it was understandable that the royal family would step up its defenses.

Colonel Paul holds the scabbard of his saber, a ceremonial bayonet of the seventeenth century, which is not a mere ornament, but a terrifying piece of lethality in the hands of a master of swordsmanship, who happens to be one of Mussolini's current masters.

"Hello, Your Excellency Prime Minister, Your Excellency Marshal, Your Majesty is waiting for you in the small parlor." The group passed through the two spacious palace rooms and was greeted by an attendant dressed in court dress.

Mussolini noticed the intricate gold lace trimming the cuffs of his black gown, but he could not recall now that he had seen the baron.

"This is Tak. Baron Pietro, from Andrea, now serves as His Majesty's Administrative Secretary. Paul said.

"Fortunately, Mr. Baron." Mussolini took the initiative to reach out.

"It is also my honour, Your Excellency Prime Minister." The other party shook hands with the prime minister elegantly, looking very aristocratic, but this was what Mussolini was most unaccustomed to, he withdrew his hand and raised his head again.

"I can't keep Your Majesty waiting, please come with me." Pietro's attitude was neither humble nor arrogant, he smiled and glanced at Mussolini, then turned and began to lead the way. When they came to the door of the small living room, the guards on both sides pushed the door open.

"Your Majesty wants to meet with the Prime Minister separately first, Marshal, please wait at the door first." Pietro said to the two.

Mussolini did not suspect him, he turned his face to look at Badoglio, and then strode through the door.

Italy is an old feudal country, and although it is already constitutional, the complicated etiquette of meeting the royal family has been preserved, and even if Mussolini is powerful abroad, he is only a vassal here.

Mussolini went through the whole process one by one, and although he did not have to be so serious about his identity, he felt that it was necessary to show his respect to the king at this moment.

"You may be seated, Your Excellency Mussolini." The king was kind, and pointed to the sofa he had on hand.

"Thank you very much." Mussolini walked over to the couch and sat down.

"I summoned you today because there are some things that need to be discussed with you. Before I do that, I would like to ask what is the current state of the war, and whether you still have the confidence to continue this war. The king's expression and tone became serious, and his eyes were fixed on Mussolini's eyes as he spoke.

"The situation of the war is not as smooth as we expected, the enemy is stronger than we imagined, but our fighters are still fighting bloody on all fronts." Mussolini replied respectfully.

"That's not my problem, I've heard enough of it in the last few days. Your Excellency, I want you to give me a serious answer to the question of whether this war can continue and whether the Kingdom of Italy can be victorious. Emanuele III's face sank, Mussolini had never seen such an expression on the face of a king.

"If we have the strength we have at the moment... In a way... But we have strong convictions, and the people also have extraordinary courage ... So far, we have repelled the [Mussolini] line..."

"Enough!" The king suddenly slapped the armrest of the sofa hard.

"It seems that you don't want to tell me the truth, Your Excellency Prime Minister. But I knew very well that the Italian army was losing ground and the whole north had fallen into the hands of the Germans, that we had lost Sicily, and that the enemy was preparing to land in Naples. And you, Your Excellency the Prime Minister of Italy, are completely helpless about it. ”

"Not really, Your Majesty, I already have a new plan, we can negotiate with the Germans." Mussolini said eagerly that at this time he could only throw his hole cards.

"Why are they talking to you, what are you going to talk to the Germans, and what are you going to sell this time in exchange for the greedy Germans? Land? Money? Or the entire Kingdom of Italy? The King's eyes widened and he asked.

Mussolini had never seen a man look so terrible, and he could scarcely believe that he was in front of the King of Italy, who had always been gentle and courteous. Mussolini felt that he was sitting in front of a beast, and that he was as helpless as a young animal being targeted.

"I am infinitely loyal to the kingdom and will never do anything that harms the interests of the country." Mussolini hurriedly shook his head and denied it.

"Resign!" The king took a deep breath, put his hands on the armrests of the sofa, and said in a serious voice.

"What did you say?" Mussolini blinked, suspecting that he had misheard something.

"Resign, resign as Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Italy." The king repeated.

"Why are you doing this, Your Majesty, we could have found a better solution." Mussolini felt a cold back, he was completely unprepared for the scene in front of him, he originally thought it was just an ordinary summons, but he didn't expect it to be a Hongmen banquet.

"Your post will be taken over by Marshal Badoglio, who will negotiate an armistice with the Germans."

"No, you can't do that."

"I am the King of Italy, the ruler of the House of Savoy, and I have every right to do so." The king slapped the armrest again.

At this moment the door of the parlor opened, and Mussolini looked back in horror to find Colonel Paul striding in, followed by several soldiers with broad shoulders and round waists.

"Badoglio!" Mussolini knew that his situation was gone, and at this time he did not understand the role of the marshal in it, and the dictator stood up and yelled at Badoglio, who was standing at the door.

"Take the prime minister down and settle him well, and don't let him get hurt in any way." The king commanded to the chief of the guard.

"Bennetto. Mussolini, I must thank you for all that you have done for the kingdom before, and I cannot deny that you are a very good leader. It's a pity that you have provoked an overly powerful enemy for the kingdom, forgive me for having to make this choice, everything is for the sake of the Kingdom of Italy and the Italian people, I am sure you will understand my decision. Emanuele III had a slight apology on his face.

"It's all for yourself, and I curse you and your descendants, and you Badogrio, you cunning snake, you will never be the match for that blonde boy. Let go of me, only I can save Italy, only me! Let me go, I am your leader! You can't..."

Mussolini tried to resist, but was clearly no match for the guards, and eventually the leader was dragged out of the room by several strong men with a sock in his mouth. (To be continued.) )