Chapitre 374: Chapter 451 Guerrilla (2)
"The German patrol is coming!"
Katzper, who was gobbling down his food, almost choked. He pounded his chest to force down the stuck potato, grabbed his rifle to rush out, but was held back by the village head. "You'll just be walking to your death if you go out now. Quick, hide in the cellar!" He opened the cellar cover in the corner. "The Germans won't check these places; everyone else has cellars and must have hidden. Hurry!"
Katzper and the other three didn't argue, hastily hiding in the cellar. Moments later, they heard the door being violently pushed open, followed by the sound of chaotic footsteps; at least seven or eight people had entered the house.
Katzper's heart leaped into his throat, not daring to breathe as he strained to listen, his fingers gripping the gun so tightly that the joints creaked.
"Sire, you've arrived just in time; a little later and the guerrillas would have escaped."
"!!" Katzper stiffened, feeling like he'd fallen into an icy abyss. This wasn't the village head's voice! What was going on?!
The village head's next words extinguished the last flicker of hope in Katzper's heart. "They're in that cellar, four of them, and the leader of this guerrilla group is named Katzper."
"Why?!!" Katzper couldn't help but roar; he couldn't fathom how the hospitable village head could betray them and lock them in this cramped cellar like fish in a barrel!
If they had charged out earlier, they might have had a chance; even in death, they could have taken some Germans with them!
He couldn't understand it!!
Facing Katzper's furious questioning, the village head snorted coldly. "You damned bastards, even worse than the Germans. You've stolen all our winter supplies; do you want us to starve to death?!"
This barrage of accusations left Katzper bewildered; this was their first visit to this village, so when had they ever stolen the winter supplies? Could there have been other guerrillas here?
Before he could ponder further, another cold voice spoke. "Katzper, is it? I suggest you surrender peacefully; you might live to see another day."
With a click, Katzper chambered a round. "Surrender? Never! I'll fight you to the death!!"
The voice chuckled coldly. "As you wish then. Get ready!"
Just as Katzper aimed his gun at the cellar cover to fire, he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head, blacked out, and collapsed.
One of the guerrilla members, who had knocked Katzper unconscious with the rifle butt, quickly shouted, "Don't shoot, don't shoot, he's out cold! We surrender!"
"Drop your weapons and climb up! Any tricks, and you'll be shot on the spot!"
The three guerrillas dropped their weapons and cautiously climbed out of the cellar. Several armed German soldiers surrounded the area, with a lieutenant pointing his pistol at the three. "Who is Katzper?"
The three pointed to the cellar. "He's down there."
The lieutenant nodded. "Bring him up!"
Two of them returned to the cellar and carried the unconscious Katzper out.
The German soldiers escorted the guerrillas away. Before leaving, the lieutenant took out a few cards from his pocket and handed them to the village head. "Well done. Come for your food tomorrow; there's plenty of meat."
"Thank you, sir." The village head, beaming, accepted the cards and respectfully saw the lieutenant out.
"Ugh!" Katzper felt a splitting headache, his mind buzzing. He tried to rub his head to relieve the pain but found his hands wouldn't move.
Katzper shook his head vigorously, and his vision gradually cleared from blurriness. He was in a small room, about ten square meters, with a table and chair opposite him, while he was securely tied to a chair.
As Katzper struggled to break free, the door opened, and a middle-aged man in a German uniform walked in. "You're awake, must be quite the headache, huh? Tut-tut, your comrades were quite ruthless to one of their own, almost split your head open."
The man spoke fluent Polish, and Katzper glared at him fiercely.
The German sat down in the chair behind the table. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm the anti-guerrilla officer for this area; you can call me Dietrich. It's clear you've been captured. Now, you have two options: either go to a POW camp and work until you die, or serve us."
Katzper spat on the ground. "Serve you? In your dreams!!"
Dietrich wasn't angered; instead, he smiled slightly. "Seems your comrades were right; you are a hardliner. But you're just a reckless brute without brains. You still haven't figured out why the villagers of Bewata betrayed you, have you?"
Katzper's face turned ashen; his comrades had betrayed him? And indeed, he hadn't understood why those villagers would betray them.
Dietrich began to speak leisurely. "Let me tell you a story, and you'll understand."
Ten days ago, another guerrilla group came to Bewata village, demanding 500 kilograms of grain to support their noble cause of resisting the Germans.
The village head explained that the harvest had been poor this year, and the Germans had already taken a share, leaving just enough for the villagers to survive the winter.
The guerrilla leader turned fierce. "Damn it, we're fighting for the country, and you dare not support us? Brothers, search every house! Take whatever you can find!!"
"Oh, oh, how can you do this?" The village head tried to intervene, but was this guerrilla group or just bandits?
"Get out of my way!" The leader smashed the village head's cheek with the rifle butt, then they ransacked the village, taking all the stored food.
As the leader, carrying a sack of potatoes, passed the fallen village head, he spat on him. "Bah! Once we drive out the German devils, we'll deal with traitors like you first!"
The villagers helped the village head up, crying out in despair. "Village head, what do we do now?!" Their winter food was gone; how would they survive?!
The village head stomped his foot angrily. "These bastards are worse than animals! At least the Germans didn't let us starve!"
"And so, the villagers of Bewata sought our help. You might not know this, but such incidents aren't limited to Bewata; they're happening all over the country. Now, your guerrilla groups have a bad reputation; you're like rats everyone wants to beat."
After listening to Dietrich's "story" and seeing the mocking expression on his face, Katzper shivered with rage. "Despicable!!" He now understood these guerrillas were likely a setup by the Germans!
Dietrich scoffed. "You're the fool blaming others for being too smart. If you were wise, you'd adapt to the situation and pledge loyalty to us. You could continue to 'fight as guerrillas'."
Katzper knew what he meant by "fight as guerrillas" and gritted his teeth. "I'll die before I become a lackey to invaders like you!!"
Dietrich shrugged. "There are plenty who want to be dogs; we don't need one more. Take him and those stubborn ones to Nasionkowo. Goodbye, Mr. Katzper, have a nice time in hell."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone