The sudden change in style on stage almost made Morin, who was drinking water, spit it out.
Originally a classic comic opera, the style shifted dramatically after those clowns playing “Britannian soldiers” rushed onto the stage.
The officer wearing the Imperial Army uniform had a smile on his face that was not only confident but could even be described as full of the flavor of “managed democracy”… oh no, “the Empire.”
Morin had to pinch his thigh hard to keep from laughing out loud in the box.
Those guys in the Ministry of War Propaganda Department were really something!
Last time Morin and Manstein went to the Ministry of War for business, simply because they were recognized passing by, he offered some “small suggestions” to those propaganda officers—basically describing the promotional video for Helldivers 2.
But Morin truly didn’t expect these guys to have such strong execution capability, bringing this setup onto the stage of the Semperoper in such a short time.
On stage, the officer’s tone was impassioned, and the background music shifted from solo orchestral to include the urgent beat of snare drums.
“Unless you can make the most important decision of your life!”
He spun around, and behind him, another fully armed officer who looked exactly like him stepped out.
Morin completely lost it—these talents in the Propaganda Department actually found twins to pull off this scene, just to realize the “transition” he had mentioned back then…
And Morin was all too familiar with the equipment on the newly appeared officer.
The instruction unit’s signature field gray uniform embroidered with “Roman columns” on the collar and cuffs, a tactical chest rig, an MP14 submachine gun slung on his back, and holding an M14 steel helmet, which had just begun to be issued to troops on a large scale.
Oh, and a highly ridiculous cape on his back…
Although the instruction unit was not issued this thing, it didn’t stop them from adding it for stage effect—flapping loudly under the action of a blower, tracing a perfect black arc.
“Prove to everyone that you possess the strength and courage to display loyalty… use Saxony’s sword to gain land for Saxony’s plow!”
The fully armed actor slowly placed the steel helmet on his head, his eyes as resolute as if he were about to blow up an enemy fortress.
“Join… the ranks of the Stormtroopers!”
“Boom, boom, boom, boom… boom… boom…”
The rousing background music exploded instantly, and several soldiers dressed similarly, holding prop rifles with wooden bayonets attached, charged out from both sides of the stage.
The soldiers began engaging in a “hand-to-hand combat” with those clowns playing Britannians, which, although a performance, looked quite hot-blooded.
Standing in the center of the melee, the officer didn’t join the fight but continued delivering those highly inflammatory lines to the audience.
“Become the elite of the Imperial Army!”
He waved his hand, and the backdrop behind him fell, revealing a massive Black Eagle flag.
“Fight against the treacherous and cunning enemy!”
A “Britannian soldier” was exaggeratedly flipped away, drawing a gasp from the audience.
“Plant the Black Eagle flag across the entire Europa continent!”
“Become a volunteer…”
“Become a hero…”
“Become… a Stormtrooper!”
As the last note fell, all the actors on stage uniformly snapped a standard military salute to the audience.
After a brief silence, the entire Semperoper erupted in thunderous applause and cheers.
Those originally reserved noble gentlemen couldn’t help but stand up and applaud now, while the ladies wiped tears from the corners of their eyes with handkerchiefs, as if they had already seen the heroic posture of their sons achieving merit on the battlefield.
“Truly… shocking.”
Patricia lowered her opera glasses, her small face written full of excitement.
“That cape is so handsome! Morin… does your instruction unit really have capes like that?”
“Miss Seeckt, it’s obvious we don’t equip this thing… um, at least not right now.”
“Wearing that thing in the trenches has no use other than getting caught on barbed wire and turning you into a live target…”
Morin mercilessly shattered her fantasy, though he left some leeway, only saying they weren’t equipped now.
Depending on future combat needs, they might indeed equip tactical capes with camouflage effects, it just might not look this handsome~
At the same time, Morin couldn’t help but admire the execution capability of those guys in the Ministry of War Propaganda Department.
In this era without movie special effects and CG technology, they managed to materialize that abstract recruitment ad relying purely on stage direction and simple sound and lighting effects.
And it had to be said, the Saxon language was truly very suitable for interpreting this plot.
In the current Saxon Empire, an era full of nationalist fervor, this set of things was simply a killer move.
The grand curtain slowly fell, but the audience’s enthusiasm did not wane.
As the theater lights came back on, several officers who looked like they were from the Ministry of War Propaganda Department walked to the front of the stage.
They didn’t give long speeches but struck while the iron was hot, announcing the subscription for a new round of “Imperial Victory War Bonds” and the latest policies for recruiting “One-Year Volunteers.”
“Ladies and gentlemen!”
An Army major came to the front of the stage, his voice loud and clear.
“The brave warriors on the front lines are shedding blood, and what we need to do is become their most solid backing! Every Mark is a bullet fired into the enemy’s chest!”
“[An impassioned speech]!”
These highly inflammatory words, combined with the adrenaline-pumping performance just now, had an outstanding effect.
As for why they chose to propagandize today, the reason was also very simple.
Because those who came to the Semperoper to watch the performance today were all wealthy or noble. Besides being able to subscribe to high amounts of war bonds, the youths in their families were also the main force of the “Volunteers.”
The conscription system of the Saxon Empire, like the Second Reich in the world before Morin’s transmigration, from Saxony to major states including Bavaria and Württemberg, was universal compulsory military service.
As an aside, the autonomy possessed by the states of the Saxon Empire in this world had been greatly weakened.
Aside from appearing to be independent states, they were actually highly bound to Saxony in all other aspects.
As for universal compulsory military service… this was undoubtedly a form of mandatory conscription. All healthy male citizens, upon reaching the legal age—which was 20—had to perform military service.
Infantry served two years of active duty, while cavalry and artillery served three years of active duty.
After completing their service, these soldiers would transfer to the reserve and Landwehr, and could be rapidly mobilized when war broke out.
This was also why the Saxon Empire could explosively raise nearly 6 million troops in a short time after the war broke out.
And besides “conscripts,” there was a second option called “volunteers.”
The essence of the volunteer system was to provide another institutional channel for the Empire’s elite class—namely the “Military Junkers”—to quickly become officers.
A youth of the Military Junkers wanting to become an officer usually had two paths.
One was like Morin: entering a military academy early, then going through long-term study and assessment, ultimately becoming a professional officer.
The other was choosing to be a volunteer.
Regardless of the branch of service, they only needed to serve for 1 year to participate in a specialized exam. After passing, they would enter the ranks of reserve officer candidates and could be rapidly appointed as second lieutenants during wartime.
As for why the “volunteer” system was said to be a dedicated channel for Junker nobles…
It was mainly because all expenses for this one year of military service, including uniforms, equipment, food, etc., were self-funded.
Although this cost wasn’t terrifyingly high, it was not something the commoner class could casually pull out.
In Morin’s view, this system was undoubtedly to maintain the “class purity” of the officer corps for the Military Junkers.
The high echelons of the Saxon military were long monopolized by Junker nobles and the upper crust of the emerging bourgeoisie; you could hardly find a few people of commoner origin among them.
And it was precisely through this system that they ensured officers came from “reliable” classes… except for Morin, this “Extraterrestrial Demon” anomaly.
When Morin accompanied the three ladies out of the box and arrived at the lobby, the scene he saw could only be described as madness.
The few temporarily set-up bond subscription tables were swarmed with people, as if they were buying not bonds, but some rare treasure that would be unavailable tomorrow.
“Let’s go take a look too.”
Cecilia said with a smile. Her keen merchant’s intuition told her that this was not only a good opportunity to state her position but also an excellent political investment.
The actions of this noblewoman were naturally generous.
When Cecilia signed a staggering number on that subscription form, the hand of the officer responsible for registration trembled.
And Morin, standing beside Cecilia, became the focus of the entire venue at this moment.
The crowd, which had originally only been whispering, instantly erupted when a few sharp-eyed Propaganda Department officers spotted Morin.
“Look! That’s Lieutenant Colonel Morin!”
“My God, this is my first time seeing a Blue Max recipient in person!”
“I heard he could take out an entire company of Gauls by himself!”
“A company? A battalion!”
Several young officers from the Propaganda Department swarmed over like sharks smelling blood.
Although they didn’t know Morin had actually just done a huge job upstairs, it didn’t stop them from using this ready-made “War Hero” to add more fuel to the atmosphere.
“Allow me to introduce to everyone!”
A major, his face flushed red, shouted loudly: “This is the youngest hero of our Imperial Army, the commander of the instruction unit, Lieutenant Colonel Friedrich von Morin! This Blue Max medal on his chest is the proof of courage!”
The crowd instantly boiled over.
A large number of noble youths—also the prospective “volunteers” who had just been hyped up by the stage play—swarmed up as if seeing an idol.
“Lieutenant Colonel Morin! May I ask what the requirements are to join the instruction unit?”
“Mr. Lieutenant Colonel! I want to become a hero like you too!”
“Can you give me an autograph? Just sign it on my enlistment form!”
Morin looked at those pairs of expectant eyes and sighed inwardly.
These pampered young masters had no idea what the trenches on the Western Front smelled like.
They thought war was spotlights on a stage and handsome uniforms, but the reality was often severed limbs and bodies covered in mud.
But he couldn’t say that.
At least here, in this occasion requiring morale and funds, he couldn’t throw cold water on them.
“Gentlemen.”
Morin adjusted his stance, making himself look more heroic.
“War is not a game, but defending the Empire is our duty as soldiers… I am waiting for you on the front lines. I hope that when the time comes, the guns in your hands will be as scorching hot as your enthusiasm now.”
“Yeah!!!”
The crowd erupted into another cheer.
After this, Morin finally managed, under the cover of Cecilia’s powerful aura, to squeeze out a bit of space and slip outside the opera house.
But before Morin and the others could get in the car and leave, a figure wearing a dark gray staff uniform hurried through the crowd and arrived in front of him.
Morin looked closely; it was a captain from Department III whom he had seen before beside Major Nicolai.
This man’s forehead was covered in sweat, his expression somewhat anxious, but in this situation, he tried hard to lower his voice.
“Lieutenant Colonel Morin, Major Nicolai requests your presence… The situation is somewhat complex, we need your help.”
Morin’s heart stirred. It seemed there were results from the interrogation.
He turned to look at Cecilia.
Before he could speak, this intelligent woman had already read the apology in his eyes.
“Go, Fritz.”
Cecilia reached out and helped him adjust his collar, her movements gentle and natural, as if the surrounding noise didn’t exist.
“Official business is important. Helga and I will go back ourselves.”
“Sorry, I originally wanted to tonight…”
“We have many more nights,” Cecilia whispered in his ear, her warm breath making Morin’s heart flutter. “Stay safe.”
Look, this is the charm of a mature woman who understands the bigger picture.
Morin nodded, waved to Helga and Patricia, turned, and followed the officer into a black staff car.
“What’s the situation?”
Morin leaned back in his seat. That gentle mask of social occasions instantly fell away, replaced by the sternness of the instruction unit commander.
“Not too good, sir,” the captain reported in a low voice. “Those guys were tough nuts to crack, but after applying ‘special methods,’ they still talked. However… what they spilled has given Major Nicolai a huge headache.”
The car sped through the night, crossing the bustling streets of Dresden, heading toward the Army General Staff building, which represented the brain of the Empire.
Morin watched the fleeting street scenes outside the window, his fingers tapping lightly on his knee.
Since Major Nicolai was looking for him so urgently, even willing to interrupt his “social activity” at the opera house, it indicated the severity of the matter might have exceeded expectations.
Or rather, the “fish” caught this time might be bigger than imagined…
Since the opera house was not far from the Army General Staff, the vehicle quickly reached its destination.
Morin followed the captain, walking quickly through the slightly deserted nighttime corridors, their leather boots making crisp, rapid echoes on the terrazzo floor.
The air was thick with the smell of old paper, ink, and strong tobacco, entirely different from the sweet, cloying scent of perfume and powder at the opera house.
This was the backstage of the Empire’s war—no flowers or applause, only cold data and cruel decisions by the military high echelon.
Entering the working floor of Department III, an even thicker smell of smoke hit his face, almost making Morin think the place was on fire.
Upon reaching Major Nicolai’s office, the smoke was so thick it somewhat obscured vision.
The head of Department III was currently sitting behind his desk. Two buttons of his collar were undone, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, holding a cigarette that was about to burn his fingers.
In front of him lay a pile of messy documents and several interrogation records stained with dark red spots. The expression on his face was uglier than if he had eaten a fly.
Seeing Morin enter, he looked as if he had seen a savior, abruptly crushing out his cigarette butt and standing up.
“Thank goodness, you’re finally here, Lieutenant Colonel Morin.”
Major Nicolai’s voice was hoarse, the bottoms of his eyes bloodshot… very much fitting the characteristics of pulling consecutive all-nighters.
“If I hadn’t truly run out of options, I wouldn’t have wanted to disturb your evening activities either.”
“Ah, well, I’m already here, skip the pleasantries.”
Morin unceremoniously pulled up a chair and sat down, his gaze sweeping over the documents on the desk.
“Judging by your expression, the situation is even worse than expected?”
“Sigh, listen to me slowly…”
Major Nicolai let out a long sigh, and then began pouring his grievances out to Morin.
He first sincerely thanked Morin for helping Department III solve the major problem of the “opera house assassination.” Otherwise, if those assassins had really pulled off something at the opera house, the consequences would be unimaginable.
But even so, this only avoided the worst-case scenario.
What was certain now was that the massive infiltration of Britannians within the borders of the Saxon Empire had become a reality.
Not to mention these assassins were also using active-duty standard-issue weapons… This proved the existence of moles within the military.
If Department III couldn’t deliver a satisfactory answer regarding this incident, it would suffer the thunderous wrath of the Empire’s high echelon… especially the Emperor himself.
That’s why Major Nicolai’s face was full of sorrow right now…
After complaining, he also asked Morin about the situation at the time, especially whether these assassins had other accomplices.
Morin stated that although he had no communication with the assassins, based on his deduction, it was definitely impossible to arrange only one team for this kind of assassination operation; there had to be a backup team.
Moreover, after he had the police lock down the main entrances and exits of the opera house at the time, the police indeed found suspicious persons approaching near the back door and then quickly leaving.
So he suspected if the other party had a backup team originally prepared to participate in the operation, but ultimately abandoned it because the opera house was locked down early.
Hearing Morin’s words, Major Nicolai nodded thoughtfully, then pushed an interrogation report that still smelled of wet ink in front of Morin.
“Among those seven guys, two were tough nuts~ But in front of our ‘artisans’… like I said, even dead men speak.”
Nicolai pointed to a few names and addresses on the document and continued: “They confessed the locations of several safe houses, and supply caches… Most crucially, they gave up the handlers for this operation—two genuine Britannians, almost certainly the opposing intelligence officers.”
Morin picked up the report and scanned it quickly. The handwriting was somewhat sloppy, obviously recorded during an extremely rapid confession.
“Isn’t this going very smoothly?” Morin raised an eyebrow. “You have the addresses, just go catch them.”
“That’s the problem.”
Nicolai scratched his hair in frustration.
“The locations of these safe houses… are very sensitive.”
“Elaborate.”
“One is in a residential area of the Lower City, with extremely complex terrain; another is in an abandoned warehouse district by the Elbe River, said to possibly have underground tunnels; the most troublesome one is actually near an estate belonging to a certain retired general.”
Major Nicolai paused, then continued: “And according to the confession, these people not only have the pistols and hand grenades we captured at the opera house, but might also have other automatic firepower, even heavy firepower.”
Morin narrowed his eyes.
The appearance of these items in the hands of sleeper agents in the enemy nation’s capital itself signified a massive loophole. It was indeed very normal for Major Nicolai to be anxious.
Even Morin was anxious. He was leading troops fighting life and death on the front lines, while behind him someone was committing treason…
Anyone would be anxious about this f*cking situation.
“Although our action teams are good at capture and surveillance, this kind of hard-hitting assault is obviously not our strong suit. If their backup team retreated like you said, Lieutenant Colonel, it might be even trickier…”
Nicolai spread his hands somewhat embarrassedly, voicing his true thoughts.
“To be honest, I don’t want to make too much noise in the capital. And if we fall into a stalemate and let those two Britannian agents escape, or destroy key evidence, then we’re completely finished.”
Speaking to this point, Major Nicolai’s intention was already very obvious.
“So, you want to borrow troops?” Morin looked at him with a half-smile.
“I know this breaks regulations. Mobilizing field troops to execute missions in the capital requires extremely cumbersome procedures…”
Nicolai gritted his teeth, the look in his eyes becoming somewhat resolute.
“But special circumstances require special handling, and my superiors inherently granted me the authority to mobilize field troops for support in emergencies… So as long as we can take out this nest of rats in one fell swoop, I can bear all these responsibilities. I just need your people, Lieutenant Colonel Morin, to provide a little… professional tactical support.”
“As long as the procedures are compliant, it’s no problem on my end~” Morin grinned, revealing a row of white teeth.
2:00 AM, the Lower City on the outskirts of Dresden.
Although part of the Imperial capital, the streets here were completely incomparable to the Upper City.
Narrow and dirty, flanked by dilapidated wooden buildings, the air filled with a strange stench.
Even during the day, decent citizens wouldn’t set foot here, let alone late at night.
However, at this moment, this chaotic neighborhood was enveloped in a suffocating, murderous atmosphere.
Dozens of instruction unit soldiers wearing dark gray combat uniforms and M14 steel helmets, like a group of silent ghosts, rapidly maneuvered into position under the cover of night.
The MP14 submachine guns in their hands gleamed coldly under the moonlight. The ammo pouches on their chests bulged, and their waists were hung full of stick grenades according to field requirements.
Kleist crouched behind a low wall, holding a simple map, giving final hand signals for deployment to the several platoon leaders beside him.
“The target is that three-story small building ahead! 1st Squad lock down the back alley, 2nd Squad take the high ground on both sides, 3rd Squad follow me for a frontal assault, 4th Squad standby as reserve!”
The voice of a platoon leader commanding the operation was kept very low, but revealed an irrepressible excitement.
“Remember the training you normally go through. Move fast, strike hard… Grenades pave the way! Any target holding a weapon is to be shot dead directly!”
“Understood!”
With an order, the operation began.
“Three, two, one…”
Bang!
A muffled thud. The wooden door, already confirmed to have no tripwires behind it, was kicked open.
Before the screams of surprise from inside could even come out, two stick grenades with their fuses already pulled were tossed in.
Boom! Boom!
The fierce explosion flash instantly filled the entire first-floor hall.
Immediately after, the assault team members poured in sequence according to their usual training order.
“Da-da-da-da-da——!”
The crisp gunfire unique to the MP14 submachine gun shattered the tranquility of the night.
The few figures inside attempting to resist were riddled with bullets like sieves before they could even raise their muzzles.
The soldiers of the instruction unit displayed staggering professionalism—squad advance, alternating cover, clearing blind spots, double-tapping. Every movement was as fluid as if rehearsed thousands of times.
Compared to those “Free Saxon Alliance” members who had only received a certain amount of shooting and combat training—although their combat power wasn’t bad—this group of instruction unit soldiers who had fought to the death with the Gallic and Britannian elites in the trenches of the Western Front was simply a dimensional strike.
In less than three minutes, this safe house, considered a dragon’s pool and tiger’s den by Major Nicolai, was completely cleared…
And this head of Department III dragged Morin along to pull an all-nighter at the Department III command center.
Fortunately, they waited as team after team sent back messages of mission completion, and ultimately successfully intercepted the two Britannian intelligence officers attempting to flee.
Although one was dead and the other injured, at least they had someone alive, and could find a way to squeeze something out.
For Morin, this could also be considered his first battle truly sitting in a rear command center directing.
The instruction unit participating in the operation completely planned the combat plan themselves, and smoothly completed the battle without Morin lifting a finger.
It was considered a good start.
And for Major Nicolai, tonight also made him truly realize the transcendent combat power and versatility of the instruction unit.
Why could Morin and the instruction unit be said to gather thousands of favors from the Army in one body?
Because they were truly handy.
Their charges had force, their assaults had speed…
If it were the military police or Imperial Guard units, Major Nicolai believed they wouldn’t achieve the same effect.
Besides this, the instruction unit and Department III personnel also made major discoveries in these safe houses and caches.
A batch of brand new Luger P08s, over a dozen crates of hand grenades, a crate of military explosives, and even two MG14 light machine guns.
To be honest, seeing this made even Morin click his tongue.
“These things aren’t something you can just casually get hold of. If I remember correctly, the MG14 light machine gun is still in the process of large-scale deployment, right?”
Hearing Morin’s words, Nicolai’s face turned completely black.
External enemies are hateful, but thieves from within are even harder to guard against and even more hateful…
“Sir, we checked the transfer records of this batch of military weapons.”
While Morin and Nicolai were discussing, an intelligence staff officer walked over quickly and handed a file to Nicolai.
“Although they made it look flawless on the books, showing this batch of supplies was destroyed in an ‘accident’ during transport… we found a private ledger in the Britannian intelligence officer’s safe.”
“There is a name that repeatedly appears on it—’Colonel K’.”