Fasher was very cooperative, and he and Randolph were now acquaintances, as early as when he was at the post station, he learned each other's identities by knocking on the side. Fasher, who grew up in the royal tabernacle, has seen a lot of such high-ranking and powerful favored ministers, and usually this kind of person is relatively small-minded, so it is better not to offend or not to offend.

If Randolph had known what the prince thought of him, he might have cried out for wrongdoing. What is called a high-powered favorite, this is the Führer's trust in us, and besides, our eyes are not small at all, okay, I don't believe you see that on the afternoon of July 3 this year, Muller stole the fresh cherries that he saved for lunch and were going to be saved for the evening, you go and ask Muller if we have investigated it, and I have already forgotten all of it generously. (Xu Jun: ("")~ Randolph: Führer, you have to believe me... (っ*?Д`)っ）

Farsher followed Randolph upstairs, where two armed guards stood at the top of the staircase, and when they saw the SS lieutenant colonel and his party, they immediately raised their guns and saluted. The prince remembered the structure of the building, and there was a large room in the middle of the second floor, which was the living room where Adil had feasted his guests.

Two more armed guards, armed at the door of the parlor, were apparently behind the door of the room, apparently the big man who wanted to see him. Randolph stood in front of the door, and two guards pushed it open for him.

"Prince El Fasher has been brought, my Führer." The SS lieutenant colonel strode through the door and raised his arm with the heel of his boot.

Two SS soldiers pushed El Fasher from behind, and the Arab prince hurried through the door.

The first thing Fasher saw when he entered the door was the pile of jewels in the middle of the carpet, and he had grown up in fine clothes and fine food, and often went in and out of the royal palace of Ibn Saud, although he had never seen much of it, but he had never seen such a scene in front of him.

"Bring the prince here." A clear voice said that Fasher could hear that it was German, but unfortunately he still knew nothing about the language.

"Yes, my Führer." Randolph replied aloud, and then walked over to the prince, who was standing in the doorway, and reached out and patted his arm.

"Go over there." Randolph shook his head to the side of the room.

Farsher hurriedly looked in the direction Randolph had pointed out, only to see a German general in a crisp uniform standing at a round table on the west side of the room.

The Arab prince could not tell the difference between a general and a marshal in the German uniform, but he could feel the temperament exuded by the young general, which was completely different from the officials he had seen before, and he vaguely remembered that he had felt this oppressive aura in the body of the Saudi king.

"Fasher. Root. Abdul salutes you, respected general, and may the true God bless you. Fasher was brought before the young general, and bowed respectfully with one hand to his chest.

"May the true God bless you, Your Highness." A pure Arabic phrase sounded in his ear, and Fasher looked up in surprise, and his eyes couldn't help but widen.

If his ears were not mistaken just now, it should be the general in front of him who answered him.

"Don't be nervous, Prince El Fasher, I can speak a little Arabic." The Reich Führer held the table with one hand and the other hanging naturally from his waist, and his face had a kind smile that shone like the sun in Farsher's eyes.

"Your Arabic is very good, Your Excellency General." El Fasher bowed respectfully again.

The prince once hired an English teacher to teach him English and aristocratic social etiquette, which he did not learn very well, but considered himself impeccable in etiquette.

"Your Excellency, may I ask if we have met before, I think you look familiar." Fasher humbly asked, swearing he must have seen it somewhere. It was a pity that he was more handsome than a little manly, and the Arabian prince thought that it would be perfect if he had a beard.

"Your Highness El Fasher, I can guarantee that we have never met before, and I am not a general, I am a field marshal, and at the same time I have another part-time job, you may have heard of me from others, I am Reinhardt. Feng. Stadler. Xu Jun smiled and pointed to the marshal's epaulettes on his shoulders, pointing out the other party's common sense mistakes.

"Wait... Wait a minute..."Fasher was really taken aback by Xu Jun's answer.

The prince had a little expectation, but he was immediately overthrown by himself, and the German Führer had come to the Arabian Peninsula from far away Europe just to meet a captured and down-and-out prince, which could only be his own wishful thinking, and it was impossible in reality.

But the imaginary German Führer was now standing in front of him. Suddenly an impulse swelled in El Fasher's heart, and that was to kneel down and face Mecca, and sincerely praise the great God, all of which must have been the will of the true God, who must have recognized his devotion to the faith.

Finally, the prince still maintained a trace of sobriety and did not make a rude move in front of Xu Jun, otherwise once the Führer mistakenly thought that he was a religious extremist in front of him, the rest of the story might not continue.

"So you're the Führer of Germany, I really didn't think you'd be here, ah... May God bless you, Your Excellency the Führer. Fasher bent over his chest and saluted solemnly again.

"May the true God bless you, Your Highness El Fasher, I don't think we need to be so polite between us, please sit down and talk." Xu Jun waved his hand and pointed to the carpet on the side.

The Arabs of the time preferred to sit on the floor, and their tents had very few tables, chairs, benches, and other furniture, mostly just a simple carpet with a bunch of cushions and cushions. There was little difference between the rich and the poor in Arabia, except for the materials used, with the rich using silk and velvet and the poor only linen and woollen felt.

The Adil magistrate seems to be a rare figure of elegance, and the living room is a mix of Arabic-style carpeted cushions and Western-style high-backed chairs and round tables, two very different cultures that magically blend together in this lavishly decorated room, without the slightest sense of abruptness.

"Thank you very much, Your Excellency the Führer." Fasher thanked him respectfully, then walked over to the carpet and sat down.

This prince seems to have a lot of personality, Xu Jun's evaluation of Fasher has increased a few points in his heart, Fasher's every move since entering the door is in Xu Jun's eyes, and now the head of state is more confident in the plan to be carried out next.

"I'm sorry, I don't have much time to entertain you, Your Highness. I have a tight schedule and I'm going back to Germany tonight. In the past few days, my subordinates have not neglected you. Xu Jun sat down on the chair next to the table and apologized to the prince with a smile.

"No, no, Colonel Doagon and Major Jürgen took good care of me, the food for the three meals was good, and they allowed my servants to continue to serve me, making me feel as comfortable as at home." Fasher hurriedly replied loudly.

How dare he express his dissatisfaction, he didn't hear the Führer just say that he was going to return to Germany tonight, and it was easy for him to complain on his side, and he would definitely be put in small shoes when he turned back.

He had been scared by several SS officers, especially the terrible Major Jürgen, the prince had been completely cast a psychological shadow by this former Gestapo, and now whenever the other party appeared near El Fasher, His Royal Highness would reflexively feel a burst of urine.

"Very well, I'm relieved." Xu Jun smiled and put his right hand on the round table, which could not be seen at all in the position of Farsher, and the fingers of the imperial head were rubbing the hilt of an antique long sword at the moment.

"What do you think about this war? I want to hear what you think, especially the attitude of the Saudi royal family towards this war, don't be nervous... Feel free to talk about it here. The Führer smiled kindly.

"Understood, Your Excellency the Führer," Fasher humbly replied. The Arab prince began to quickly organize his sentences, satisfying the Führer's curiosity without offending him in the slightest.

PS: Thank you for your support, the author will continue to work hard. Continuing to ask for monthly passes, recommendations, and clicks, it takes a lot of effort to conceive the plot, and I need more push.