Little Ivan, who was thin and small, stood in the cold wind and snow, like a straw in the wind, as if he would be blown down by the wind at any time. The long life in the concentration camp had already tortured this body into disgrace.
.
By the standards of ordinary people, it may be a miracle that he is still standing here, let alone that little Ivan can speak here calmly and clearly.
"What did you do? Ha...very good..."
Obviously, the black-skinned dog was slightly surprised at first when he heard what little Ivan said, but he quickly covered up the slight displeasure on his face, followed by a look that was even more strange and cold than before.
smile.
"So now, tell me about your motive for committing the crime. Why did you steal food from the kitchen? What drove you to do this? Are you ordered by someone? Forced by someone? Or is there something else hidden? Just tell me, I
I will make the decision for you, and those who really force you to do this will be arrested and punished."
"..."
This bastard who is good at playing with people's hearts, pulling out the darkest side of people's hearts, repeatedly playing with it and magnifying it for others to see, is still as disgusting as usual this time, and his ability to talk nonsense seriously has not changed at all.
"You stupid fascist with shit in your head! No one ordered me, I did it! One person does the work and the other person is responsible. It's up to you to do whatever you want. I'll wait."
"..."
Few people can make the black dog show surprise and displeasure twice in less than half a minute, but little Ivan did it.
"Very good, very good! That's good!"
I had never noticed before that among the few remaining Russian prisoners of war, there was actually such a bold and arrogant person who dared to disobey me in such a continuous manner. Even after he gave me hints, he still did not do what he said.
, determined to destroy his own "game plan".
This abominable black dog has long been tired of killing people as he pleases. Killing people without any reason or plan is no longer a pleasure for him.
The most interesting thing is to be killed. The expression on his face when he is about to die is so perfect that this black dog can't stop and can't refuse.
Now, since the original game cannot be played, two consecutive unexpected situations have completely disrupted the plan.
The black-skinned dog suddenly had an idea and then raised the corner of his mouth again. He had already thought of a more wonderful killing game, and he must play it well this time.
"You are very honest. I thought you would make some excuses or frame me. I was wondering, what made you admit your crime so simply?"
Little Ivan sneered in the cold wind. This black-skinned dog never had any new things to do when it played around. It kept doing the same thing over and over again. It was true that an old dog couldn't do anything new.
"You know better than me where that food comes from, you bastard pig! Since you have no intention of letting me go, or any of us, someone has to die, so why can't that person be me? Take
Think about it with your pig brain, if you can really understand it."
Little Ivan is a man who has gone to school and attended a tank training school, and has a high level of education. He has no trouble confronting this bipedal bastard in his own native language.
The black dog who heard this was no longer surprised. He could probably guess what the Russian prisoner in front of him was thinking in his mind.
There are always some people who are willing to sacrifice their egos and lose their own lives to save everyone, but it is this feeling, this kind of trust and trust that these Russians call "comrades" among them, that has made this relationship from beginning to end.
The scoffing black dog felt very unhappy and disdainful.
"So you know how I'm going to punish you?"
The black dog stopped beating around the bush and shortened his words directly to the final result. Little Ivan, who sneered again, just replied mockingly.
"No less than I know what method I most want to use to kill you, you bastard pig. You'd better kill me today, otherwise I will stuff your head into other fascists' bodies one day.
Use it to pad your butt. If you don’t believe me, let’s wait and see.”
From the moment the black dog distorted the facts and blurted it out, little Ivan knew that what seemed like a good thing last night was actually a conspiracy. It was only because he did not think about everything at the time and underestimated the German guy's insidiousness.
I fell into a trap, which caused trouble for my comrades again this morning.
It is up to him to deal with the trouble he caused. Since someone must die at the hands of this fascist devil today, little Ivan feels that he is undoubtedly the most suitable as the instigator. He cannot allow innocent comrades to be implicated in this.
He also lost his life, which was completely inconsistent with and contrary to his life creed.
After hearing what Little Ivan said, the black-skinned dog who was not angry but was happy turned out to be a crazy and twisted freak. He quickly approached Little Ivan with a gloomy and uncertain sneer on his face.
"Aren't you afraid of death? Russians..."
Little Ivan, who had already realized something, just sneered again, spoke without changing his expression at the distance where they could feel each other's breathing, and said the same thing again.
"If you don't let me die in front of you, I will let you die in front of me as quickly as possible. It's up to you, Fascist pig."
"..."
The black-skinned dog didn't talk to him anymore, his expression was as cold as ever, but he put away his sneer.
Without comment, he slowly turned around, raised his right hand wearing a black leather glove over his chest and lightly made a fist. A discerning SS guard on the side immediately handed over a long black stick as thick as a grenade handle.
In his hands.
"Honest people must be rewarded, and I have decided to fulfill your wish, but it must be done step by step, bit by bit. The first thing is this-"
call out--
Snap——
"Well!!!"
The black stick was swung violently, causing a roar of wind, and it was swung hard on the person, followed by a muffled grunt and the sound of falling to the ground.
The heavy black long stick must be at least as long as a Japanese katana, but the material it is made of is indeed hard, but it is not a hard rubber with no deformation elasticity, similar to the one stuffed in the tank's road wheels.
A rubber ring material.
All the Red Army prisoners of war, including Roskov, knew this thing, or they had all been severely beaten by it.
This is the black-skinned dog's equipment for beating people. Only he can use it and no one else can.
As for the feeling of being hit on the body, you can probably imagine it just from the material, thickness and overall weight of this thing. This is far beyond what ordinary wooden sticks can match, and the damage and pain are far greater.
It was several times higher than it, and there were many prisoners who were beaten to death by this black dog with their brains split open and beaten to death.