บท 223: Chapter 301 Confession
In less than half an hour, the German armored forces had advanced into Italian territory. Frank, perched on a tank, waved to Anthony. "Goodbye, Anthony, my friend. When you come back, I'll treat you to a drink."
"Good luck, my friend." Watching Anthony waving at them with a cheerful smile, the German soldier sitting next to Frank joked, "Your words just now sounded a lot like a farewell."
Frank looked puzzled. "What farewell?"
"Haven't you seen His Highness's comics? I've never seen anyone survive after declaring death." After hearing the explanation of "death," Frank couldn't help spitting. "Bah, jinx. I was planning to live a hundred years."
The armored forces marched straight ahead, as if rushing on their own land at high speed, encountering almost no resistance. The roadsides were filled with laughing Italian guards, as if the confident German soldiers were merely walking on someone else's land.
This strange scene made some German recruits a bit uneasy. "Are these Italians intentionally letting us pass, preparing to surround and annihilate us?" After all, the number of Italian soldiers far exceeded theirs. What if these Italians suddenly turned hostile?
An old soldier beside them burst into laughter. "Put away your worries. Do you know why His Highness calls the Italian army 'Noodle Army'?"
The new recruit shook his head with a puzzled expression. "Why?"
The old soldier proudly explained, "Like uncooked noodles, they seem firm and crispy on the surface, but once you start a fight, you'll find out they are not up to the task. But to be honest, Italian pasta is world-class cuisine. I'll have to taste authentic Italian pasta when we get to Rome."
The new recruit breathed a sigh of relief and instinctively straightened his posture. Since His Highness said so, it must be correct. He was already a fervent follower of Wilhelm, believing every word he said was the absolute truth.
The well-prepared German troops crossed the border area of Italy, and most of the units didn't fire a single shot. Relying solely on the orders of the new queen and the new Minister of Defense, they convinced the Italian defenders, who had an overwhelming numerical advantage, to disarm.
No one bothered to investigate whether these Italians dropped their weapons out of loyalty to the royal family or out of fear of the German military's reputation.
A few Italians wanted to resist, but within minutes, they were herded out of their hiding places by German soldiers like chased pigs.
Meanwhile, hiding in his secret villa, Mussolini was already as anxious as an ant on a hot pan. "Damn it, damn it! What the hell is going on?!" Swearing to God, he was unequivocally loyal to the royal family, and he wouldn't dare harbor thoughts of regicide, even in his dreams.
He still hadn't figured out why this had happened. He had invited the king and the crown prince to attend the military parade to showcase the strength of the Italian army.
During the military parade, unexpectedly, several soldiers went mad, rushed onto the parade platform, and without a word, raised their submachine guns to wildly sweep the area, even throwing grenades. It seemed as if they specifically targeted the king and the crown prince. Unharmed, they were escorted away by the security team, escaping to this secret villa.
"There's definitely a conspiracy here!" Soldiers on parade are not allowed to use live ammunition. Even though the guns carried by the soldiers were real, the firearms and cannons used during the parade were strictly prohibited from being loaded. Moreover, before boarding and upon arrival, all firearms had to be inspected to ensure they were empty. This was non-negotiable discipline!
But how did those damn rebels manage to bring so many bullets into the parade?
Certainly, a powerful force was manipulating everything behind the scenes!
Listening to his chief of security reporting that the rebellious soldiers had been shot on the spot, and no clues could be found on them, added to his mounting fear. To make matters worse, an unidentified radio station was boldly reporting that he had ordered the murder of the king and the crown prince. Although he had already ordered a swift investigation to find the scoundrel framing and plotting against him, it was uncertain when they would get results. Perhaps when they did, the whole world would still think he was the murderer.
"Mussolini, leader, you need to calm down a bit." In his living room, several impeccably dressed middle-aged men were trying to persuade Mussolini to calm down.
"Damn it, how can I calm down?" Mussolini burst out with a rough curse. This huge blame could crush someone.
After swearing, he suddenly glared with bloodshot eyes at these people. "Could it be you guys playing tricks?"
Several middle-aged men hurriedly shook their heads. "Your Excellency Mussolini, we came here this time to make friends. There's no way we would do such a lunatic thing, and we don't have the ability to do so. You should suspect the Germans; perhaps they are secretly plotting against you."
"The Germans?" Mussolini thought for a moment, shook his head, and didn't think the Germans had any reason to do so. Although the Germans hadn't agreed to his alliance request, the two countries had always stayed out of each other's way.
Regardless of all this, the top priority now was to clear his name and solve this mess. "What should we do now?"
One of the middle-aged men spoke up. "The most important thing is to gain control of the military. We might as well..."
Before he could finish his sentence, sudden gunfire erupted outside, startling Mussolini. "What's going on?!"
His chief of security rushed in to report. "Leader, we are under attack by an unidentified armed group! They..."
Snap! Accompanied by the crisp sound of broken glass, a burst of blood spattered from the chief of security's temple as he collapsed stiffly. Terrified, the people in the living room screamed and cowered on the floor.
"Boom!"
The front door of the villa was blown open with powerful explosives. A group of soldiers dressed in German special forces uniforms poured in through the breach, skillfully forming a tactical formation inside the house. Most of these special forces soldiers were equipped with MP44 assault rifles, providing sustained firepower far beyond the villa's security team. Soon, they had the security team pinned down.
"Immediately drop your weapons and surrender! Otherwise, we'll throw grenades! You have five seconds, 5! 4! 3!..." The leading German sergeant commanded loudly in standard Italian.
"Rat-a-tat-tat!" Compared to other "noodle armies," Mussolini's security team could be considered the elite of the elite. They immediately responded to the German sergeant's surrender notice with several Beretta M1938A submachine guns.
The German special forces were equally ruthless, throwing several grenades, and the earth-shaking explosions made the entire villa tremble.
After the explosion subsided, only the painful groans of the security team soldiers remained.
After dealing with the residual enemies in the villa, the special forces stepped into the living room on the second floor. Looking at Mussolini and a few middle-aged men trembling on the floor, a faint smirk appeared on the corner of the leader's mouth.
The captain in charge looked at those well-dressed middle-aged men and sneered, "It seems our Excellency Mussolini has some distinguished guests! Are you English? Or Americans?"
The shivering middle-aged men replied, "E-English."
"English?" The captain suddenly shouted at a pale Mussolini, "Mussolini, you are truly insane! Conspiring with the English to assassinate your own king?!" Then, he turned to the Englishmen, "Speak! What benefits did your Churchill promise him to murder the king?"
"None, absolutely none!" The heads of the men shook like tambourines. They were sent by Churchill to ally with Italy, and with such a huge blame now, Italy would undoubtedly declare war on England!
"Oh, really?" The captain took a shotgun from behind, loaded a bullet with a click, and pressed the barrel against the forehead of the man in the middle.
"Bang!"
The head exploded like a watermelon, and the others screamed in horror, a stench spreading from their crotches.
The captain aimed the gun at the bald man beside him. "Your turn. Did Churchill collude with Mussolini to murder the king?"
"Yes, yes, it's true." The bald man looked at the gun, still emitting a wisp of smoke and hanging bits of flesh, terrified and pale, his bald head nodding incessantly.
"You should have said so earlier." The captain whistled, put away the shotgun, and took out a few sheets of paper from his pocket, throwing them in front of the men coldly. "You have 20 minutes to memorize this confession. Get ready to record their confessions, audio and video!"
Several soldiers swiftly placed cameras in front of them and prepared the recording equipment.
"What... what is going on? You... you..." Mussolini, trembling, picked up the papers. On them was written a secret treaty he had signed with British Prime Minister Churchill, conspiring to assassinate the king and other plots. This was undoubtedly a premeditated framing!
A disdainful smile appeared on the captain's face. "It seems our dear Mr. Mussolini hasn't figured out what's going on yet. Have you ever thought about who instigated you to organize the parade for the king and who revealed the address of this secret villa to us? Fortunately, our leader understands your stupidity and spared you from being a confused ghost. This is a personal letter from our leader. Take a look for yourself."
Trembling, Mussolini took the letter and started reading. The further he read, the paler his face became. In the end, he was even whiter than the surrounding walls, and he collapsed weakly to the ground.
The captain grabbed Mussolini's collar, lifted him onto a stool, and threatened menacingly, "Don't you like giving speeches? This final speech of yours better be convincing. We'll make it quick for you, or else you'll taste what it's like to beg for life but can't die!"
สถานะพลังงานรายสัปดาห์
-- การจัดอันดับด้วยพลัง 
-- หินพลัง