"So, you have spent so much effort and all kinds of meticulous preparations, just to find a Russian to challenge you?"
Wittmann knew that there are always some people in this world who are unreasonable, and their brains do not follow the common sense of normal people to think about people and things, and their actions may be difficult to accurately describe with other words other than madness.
But knowing that such a person exists in the world, and knowing that such a person is right next to you and working with you, are two completely different things.
For example, now.
"We are coming to the end soon, Michelle. There is nothing wrong with doing what you want before you die, so as not to regret it when you turn into a ghost. Oh, I am not interested in that kind of thing.
"
The dagger, which weighs just over ten pounds, is heavier than an ordinary submachine gun, but it is a dagger that is longer than a dagger and shorter than a dagger.
"Superman" in his hands is no different from ordinary people playing with a spoon.
While tossing up and down, he wielded a ten-pound dagger, performing sword and sword skills between the palm of his hand and the tiger's mouth.
Heisenberg, who was sitting in the corner against the wall, had a lazy attitude. Even when he spoke to Wittmann, who was not far away, his tone was absent-minded.
"It's a pity that among those Americans and British guys who were either too stupid or too weak, I didn't meet anyone who could interest me, but the Russians gave me a big surprise."
"I have been observing that guy for a long time. Regardless of our respective camps, he is actually the same as me. We are the same kind of people. We are the same kind."
"Exquisite killing skills, powerful destructive power, full combat experience, coupled with a calm fighting mind."
"There will never be a stronger opponent than him. This war will be over soon. I really don't plan to leave Berlin alive, but I hope to fight to the end in the way I like."
"And he is the answer I found for myself."
"."
The world outside the house is still full of gunfire, and the flames of war and destruction have long filled the city. Every minute, the blood of locals and foreigners is poured out on this land that is the heart of the soul.
Death is just something that happens here all the time, just like running water will flow out all the time when the faucet is turned on.
"Did you kill him?"
Standing by the broken window frame, holding a telescope in his hand, he looked towards King's Square, which was not too far away. What Wittmann said quietly was not to continue the previous topic, but to "start anew".
The Opera House standing at the end of the square is being bathed in an unprecedented onslaught. In the sky, there are swarms of Russian fighter planes circling and strafing, diving and dropping bombs, and on the ground are heavy beasts like behemoths slowly pressing up.
The tanks are roaring and firing.
Wittmann knew that those normal tanks following the behemoth tanks were not "ordinary tanks".
The Russians have recently developed and put into the battlefield a high-speed tank that can accommodate infantry. This is no longer news in Berlin today.
Many Russian elite commandos in more than one direction relied on these high-speed tanks and the protection of armor to deflect all anti-infantry firepower encountered on the offensive path, quickly reducing the engagement distance directly to the German defense forces.
Face, get out of the car and fight in close combat.
To be honest, the impact of this unprecedented tactics on the German defense was unimaginable, and the speed of the collapse of the defense line was even more unacceptable.
Looking at the current situation, Wittmann clearly knew that it was only a matter of time before the opera house, which was swaying in the flames of war and had become isolated and helpless, would be captured, and probably not later than tonight at the latest.
After clearing all the garrison points around the King's Square and taking down buildings from commanding heights that can project firepower over a wide range and long distances, it is obvious what the Russians are going to do next. The Capitol Building standing at the other end of the King's Square must be the Russian
Man's ultimate goal.
"No, killing him in that state is meaningless to me."
"Just simply introduce yourself to him and give him a reason to come and play with me. It's like the prey actively marking its scent into the mouth of the hound."
"He will follow the smell and come to me, I promise."
He no longer wanted to comment on the personality of Heisenberg, a "madman" who was getting increasingly out of control. Wittmann, who was talking about things matter-of-factly, became somewhat interested in his answer just now.
"You feel like you're prey now?"
"Ah"
After throwing the short knife in his hand for countless somersaults, just for fun, Heisenberg grabbed the handle of the knife from mid-air and steadily put it back into the scabbard hanging on his waist, smiling at him with a cold and disdainful smile.
Wittmann was more or less sarcastic.
"Look at what you said, there is a dynamic transition between the prey and the hunter, and it is changing all the time. If it remains unchanged, it is not called hunting, it is called killing pigs, or slaughtering sheep. Only those prey that have the ability to kill you are worthy
Only when you go all out to hunt can it be valuable and fun.”
"And I am now waiting for the moment when he returns to that state."
"."
Wittmann, who was silent and just listening quietly, put down the telescope in his hand, but still maintained his posture of looking out the window, as if he had turned a blind eye to Heisenberg who had come to him, as if he were transparent.
"You know? Only now do I realize that you are not suitable for being a soldier at all."
"What?"
When Wittmann spoke again after a moment of noncommittal silence, his tone was like that of Heisenberg just now, and the sarcasm was obvious.
"You should go to a concentration camp and develop your ability to kill people in different ways. Some big shots will be satisfied and reward you with a bone to eat. After all, not every pervert can think of killing a woman.
The idea of cutting open the uterus alive and stuffing explosives into it to make a human body trap is really a sign of your talent as a soldier."
"You mean, I'm better suited to killing pigs than hunting?"
Although it has not reached the level of incompatibility, the relationship between them is already on the eve of collapse where no one looks down on the other.
In the past few days, every time after talking to this increasingly crazy guy, I would have a strong feeling of "I was wasting my time", but for some reason there will always be a next time, and Wittmann is too lazy to think about the reason.
, the figure turned away quietly and then opened the door.
"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you that you were right about something you just said."
"Ah--"
Regardless of Heisenberg's tone and whether he wanted to hear it or not, Wittmann, who was talking to himself, finally left these last words before closing the door and leaving.
"We are almost at the end, Heisenberg, and your death is coming soon, all thanks to you stepping on the accelerator and running towards hell."
Crunch——
boom--
Listening to the sound of Wittmann closing the door and leaving, Heisenberg gradually faded away in the corridor. With a fierce look in his eyes, Heisenberg stood where Wittmann had been and looked out the window, recalling Wittmann's thoughts.
The parting words just now were just muttered to himself with a cruel smile.
"You're right, but that's not necessarily the hell you understand."