The streets of Berlin are crowded with people in a hurry, and the towering chimneys not far away emit black smoke from morning until late at night. The factories in Germany are not worried about not having orders now, they are just worried that there are too many orders and overtime is still too busy.

It's an icy city, and pedestrians rarely greet each other on the streets. They have countless things to do, the cold iron doors in the factory, the cold iron windows in the workshop, the cold rails in the industrial area, the cold hammer at the workbench...... It can be said that the whole of Germany is now an icy country.

"Jingle bell!" the doorbell rang, the door was pushed open from the outside, and a man with high cheekbones walked into the small store around the corner of the neighborhood with a big-looking leather bag. He was dressed in unseemly clothes, but he was still clean, and his leather shoes looked old, but he was meticulously cared for.

He hesitated outside for more than half an hour, from the time he got off work until it was time for dinner, and then he pushed open the door and walked in. His expression was a little flustered, but more frustrated. He lives in a nearby building and is a standard office worker.

"Oh! Mr. Panson. The owner of the small shop lifted the black-framed glasses on the bridge of his nose, and as soon as he saw the person he was familiar with walking in, he immediately put down the pen and notebook in his hand, and greeted him with a smile: "Welcome, what do you need?"

"Boss, I'll buy some flour and potatoes. The man named Pan Sen, who walked into the shop, looked around the shop and saw that no one else whispered, "I heard you're ...... here."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Panson. There are plenty of potatoes here, and I can pick some fresh ones for you. The boss smiled and said without any fluctuation in his tone: "However, you must know that flour is a limited supply item in the Empire, and you can only go to the supply ticket used for food rationing to get it. ”

Pan Sen put the large leather bag on the counter in front of the boss, opened it, took out a few new versions of the Imperial Gold Mark that the Imperial Government had promised not to depreciate, pushed it to the boss who had been smiling, and begged: "I know you only accept this kind of transaction here, I want some flour, my little daughter is sick, she told me that she wants to eat white bread...... Please. ”

"Anything else?" asked the boss, pressing his hand on a few gold marks, rubbing them slightly, and scanning them with a slanted glance.

"Huh?" the man was stunned and looked up at the boss, not knowing what to say.

"Anything else?" the boss asked again.

"Yes...... Yes!" the man quickly took out his purse, took out the remaining gold marks, and handed them to the boss. Although he knew that the money in his hand could buy a lot of flour under normal circumstances, but now that the rationing system was implemented, most things could not be bought with money, so he did not hesitate to take out the money.

The shopkeeper took the money, counted it, pushed it back to the man, and turned around to get a bag that sealed the mouth of the bag, on which was written in bold black letters, "Military Supplies". Then he took out a tin box of canned food from the lattice under the counter, and saw that the packaging turned out to be high-quality natural butter.

"50 gold marks is the money for flour, and the other is the money for butter, and eating white bread without natural butter is spoiling food...... Don't tell people I have butter here. The boss smiled and pushed two things to Pan Sen, who was stunned: "I hope your daughter can get better soon." ”

"Thank you so much...... "The man was moved to tears, most Berliners hadn't eaten natural butter for several years, and their luxury food was margarine and brown bread.

"Jingle bell!" The doorbell rang, and before Pan Sen could turn around, the door was pushed open from the outside again, and Pan Sen subconsciously looked back when he heard the voice, and was immediately frightened and changed his face. He even felt that the sky had fallen and the world had been ruined.

An SS officer was followed by a soldier with a Mauser 98K rifle on his back, and the two men walked leisurely into the small shop. The SS officer in front held his hands behind his back, and the guards in the back held the door with one hand and tugged at the strap of the gun with the other. The two men were staring at Pan Sen, at the flour and butter he was holding in his hands.

Quiet, so quiet that it makes people shudder. The tinkling sound was the sound of the can of butter in Panson's hand hitting the buttons of his purse, and for the simple reason that his hands were shaking.

The officer took a step forward with his hands behind his back, and Panser moved his toes slightly in fright. He also thought about escaping, but one glance at the rifle carried by the SS soldier at the door made him lose the courage to flee.

I heard that the SS were trained demons, the most terrifying cold-blooded killing machines in the Empire: they could smash your head with a single shot from a thousand meters away, they could drive tanks through dozens of enemy tanks in one go, they would break people out of the streets in the middle of the night and cut their throats, they would eat the Führer and divide their possessions.

Now it was finally his turn, and the purchase of military supplies was a felony, punishable by up to two years in prison, to be sent to a terrible concentration camp to serve his sentence, to work day and night, and to be beaten with a leather whip and fist for the slightest slackness.

Thinking of this, Panser couldn't help but swallow a mouthful of saliva, letting the sweat slide down his forehead to the tip of his nose, and didn't dare to wipe it with his hands. Until the German officer came up to him, he did not dare to move even an inch of distance.

"Flour, butter. "The officer pressed his finger on the flour bag and smiled scarely: "Are the ordinary office workers in Berlin so rich now? ”

"His daughter was sick, so he managed to get some. The boss continued to smile harmlessly and said, "What does the chief need?"

"Daughter...... How old is it?" the officer asked, leaning against the counter, as he seemed interested.

"Ten...... Thirteen years old......" Panson replied stiffly.

"Thirteen years old...... , my son is sixteen. The officer took out a cigarette case and handed Pan Sen a cigarette: "Smoking?"

"No, no smoking. Thank you......" Pan Sen was about to cry, how could he still be in the mood to smoke. The notorious news of the SS arrests and torture had been spreading among the citizens of Berlin for a long time, and with the idea of doing nothing, Pansen felt that he would be hanged on a telephone pole in a moment.

"You are so blessed to have your daughter by your side. The officer took out one of his own and put it to his mouth, then put away the cigarette, and continued with some chatter: "He joined the training camp of the Führer's Youth Army last year, and he has not seen a single figure until now. ”

While chattering, he took out a few gold marks and handed them to the boss: "Give him a few more bottles of Coke, and I'll treat our little patient to a drink." ”

"Sir...... You ......" Panson felt like his brain was about to die, and he couldn't handle the events in front of him.

"I wonder why we didn't arrest you?" the officer smiled, still looking a little scary, it had something to do with the folds of the facial muscles, some laughed inherently scary, some laughed like a spring breeze, and it was clear that this officer belonged to the former.

He laughed twice and continued: "Then what do you think, what am I going to do with you? I know that in private you say that we are demons, and we have indeed killed people and raided homes, but we are SS, we are the Führer's pro-army, and if we don't do these things, then who will do them? I was disgusted for three days without eating when I first killed people......

"Heh, what am I telling you all about?" the SS officer sighed, then shook his head and smiled self-deprecatingly, "You go, don't be discovered by others." ”

Those few minutes seemed as if decades had passed, and he hunched over his large heavy leather bag, which contained precious butter flour and two bottles of Coca-Cola, a fashionable drink. The moment he passed the SS soldier standing in the doorway, the feeling of relief almost made him collapse and faint, but he continued to walk until he reached the end of the street.

He burst out laughing when he opened the door of his house and saw his wife and daughter lying on the bed. Life is getting better and better, he has money, he has food, and he has recently even thought about improving his life -- all of this is the benefit of Germany's power, isn't it? Compared to the past, during the Weimar Republic, he lost his job, lived on the streets, and slept in a cramped little house with his wife and children.

It was the new stimulus package that allowed him to find a job and get a high salary, but now he bought back his house and saved a few hundred dollars in savings.

"Business has been good lately?" the SS officer casually asked the shopkeeper behind the counter as Pansen walked away.

Pansen didn't know how big the SS officer was, but the owner of the shop obviously knew, and the colonel was in charge of intelligence gathering by the SS, and he had considerable real power, and he had a direct relationship with the shop.

"Business is good, and there is a great demand for flour printed with military products. General Reinhardt is also indeed clever. Even if these grains are put on the market, they will be looted, and we are so scattered and secretly selling them, which not only alleviates the dissatisfaction of the people with the supply of food quotas, but also makes a lot of money. The boss replied with a smile.

This was Augustus's plan for the Führer, and the whole plan included many aspects such as stabilizing the work, gradually restoring the free trade in food, and the overtime allowance system, with the aim of strengthening the sense of belonging and mobilizing the patriotic fervor of all the German people. The officer stood up and walked out: "If you have more, you can't talk nonsense...... Have you seen anything unusual lately?"

"One qiē is normal. The store manager still maintained his kind smile: "The residents of this neighborhood have always been very honest. ”

The officer pushed the door open: "Then you keep busy, I'll go to the next storefront and have a look." ”