Codegease: Air and Land Warfare 1946

Page 258

Philip nodded, still confused. While he was still wondering where his mother had gone, a few days later, on a day off, his father returned from church, changed into his usual clothes, and took him to the circus.

"Listen, can you hear the flute?" Just as Philip was being amused by the acrobats, his father pointed to the band playing accompaniment for the performers in a dark corner in the distance, and put on a surprised and delighted expression. "Mom told me that she's playing in this circus today!"

"Oh, Mom!" Philip was about to rush towards the orchestra pit when his father pulled him back.

“Do you know, my dear child, it’s not just your mother who’s in charge of the band’s performance; there are many other parents in the band too. It’s their job. They have to earn money in this circus theater, and they can’t easily talk to outsiders. Otherwise, the dreams of countless children like you who want to receive gifts from their mothers will be dashed.”

That's one good thing about Philip. Compared to the mischievous little tyrants who are always up to no good, he is well-behaved, except for the occasional vulgar joke, all because he is influenced by his father, who is a priest. Yes, his father is not actually a gangster; he is just a gentle, even somewhat timid, man.

As time flew by on the calendar, Philip gradually gained independence and no longer needed his father to take him to the circus.

He could even ask his father for circus tickets and then queue up to go in by himself. Even more so, while other children were shouting and yelling about the clown shows they were tired of seeing, he would quietly lean on the railing, gazing at the orchestra pit in the distance, watching his mother who was still playing the flute and couldn't see him.

……

Of course, a white lie is still a lie, and it will eventually be exposed.

Although Philip was influenced by his father, and although his bloody childhood was pieced together by his father's best efforts, when he was already 10 years old and finally learned that his mother had long since passed away, he still couldn't suppress his grief and impulsiveness and ran away from home.

After wandering around for two days, weeping and unable to bear the hunger any longer, he abandoned his kindness and sneaked into a movie theater without a ticket.

He intended to steal a few snacks and then sneak out, but he was captivated by the scene on the screen and couldn't leave.

That day, Charlie Chaplin's "The Circus" was showing. As for Philip, seeing the circus tent that had accompanied him throughout his childhood on the screen for the first time, he didn't want to leave and hid in a dark corner to watch it.

"So this is what the backstage area of ​​a circus looks like?" Perhaps this is where Philip's peculiarity lies—while everyone else was laughing out loud at Mr. Chaplin's comical performance on screen, he was the only one staring at the details of the circus props, and he almost couldn't help but juggle the food in his hand.

As the movie neared its end, some of the audience members who had laughed for most of the film began to wipe away tears.

The ending of "The Circus": Charlie, the protagonist, relinquishes the heroine he has long admired to the handsome wire acrobat she has fallen for. Charlie sends them to court for their engagement, leaving him alone to watch them and the moving circus wagons disappear from sight.

Everyone felt indignant at Charlie's excessive kindness, while Philip, who was crouching in the darkness watching everything, seemed to be deep in thought.

"Charlie is already unfortunate enough, why should the female lead suffer as well?"

"My mother has already left me. Since that's already unfortunate enough, why should I bring bad things to my father and more people?" With that thought, he ran home without stopping.

The moment he stepped into the house, he saw his father sitting forlornly in front of the full-length mirror, holding a flute wrapped in white cloth. Ever since Philip's mother passed away, the flute had been buried underground to continue this lie, and his father would only dig it up and clean it occasionally when Philip went out.

Today, the father and son, having come to terms with each other, finally put it back in the flute case, so it no longer needed to be hidden underground.

……

A few days later, Philip washed away the dust of his absence and knocked on the door of a local circus owner. From that day on, a busy little boy was a constant presence backstage at the circus.

Four years later, the father, who had closed the church doors to watch the circus, received an invitation from Philip. That day, the circus audience saw a clown who was far more hilarious than ever before.

Four years later, Philip, who had just changed into his U.S. military uniform, accompanied by his father, played his mother's flute one last time at her grave, the rusted flute playing "Oh! Susanna," before boarding the bus to the military camp.

An optimistic and lively young man faded away from New York State, but two years later on the front lines of the Western European Allied Forces, a lively character appeared, sometimes holding a Bible and a cross to his chest and silently praying, and sometimes juggling a can of luncheon meat and a German helmet in his hands.

……

Shirley's father, Joseph Finette, has a grave in a special cemetery at the foot of Naritasan Mountain—the final resting place for many victims of the Naritasan landslide.

Sometime later, next to the bouquet of lilies that the mother and daughter presented to him, there was a flute with a lily inserted in it.

In the distance from these tombstones is a cemetery for the Japanese who also perished there—unlike Westerners who place a stone slab or cross in front of their coffins, Japanese graves are traditionally small stone towers made of square bricks.

A tall, thin young man with yellow skin and a head of messy black hair that covered his eyes carried his guitar and played the melody of this tragedy in front of his deceased grandfather in his native Honshu.

"If only all of this were a dream, I could still find your figure in my dreams. It's like returning home to retrieve something forgotten, sweeping away the dust of long-forgotten memories."

"Happiness is irretrievable. You were the last person to tell me that those dark memories I had never told anyone else would have remained forever dormant in the darkness without you."

"Even the sorrow and pain of that day, along with you whom I love so deeply, have transformed into the bitter lemon scent deeply imprinted in my heart. I cannot return until the rain stops and the sun shines again. To this day, you are still my light."

Chapter 359, Section 457: "Equally Matched"

Since they had a day off, Philip went to the "Chinese Crafts Shop"—the same shop where he and the other soldiers had sat watching the televised wedding of the Federal Emperor and the Prince of Britannia.

He borrowed some money from several soldiers and managed to get a set of Chinese chess pieces custom-made. Inside, besides a rulebook in both Chinese and English, each piece was significantly modified—except for the characters on both sides still being black and red, the Chinese characters on both sides were all standardized.

For example, both "将" (jiang) and "帅" (shuai) are engraved as "将", and both "象" (xiang) and "相" (xiang) are engraved as "相". After all, people born in the Americas have very different upbringings, so their ability to distinguish Chinese characters can only be achieved through simple and clear methods.

Holding a chess piece on his fingertip like a basketball, Philip was reminiscing about his days as a circus clown practicing his balance when he carelessly forgot he had already passed through the main gate of the military camp. The guards on duty and the soldiers in the gatehouse didn't stop him; after all, they were already very familiar with him.

"Oh, right, buddy." Suddenly, Philip rushed back, peering through the glass into the guardhouse. "Any mail for us Americans in District 45?"

"Hmm, someone has already delivered it to you." The female soldier in the gatehouse nodded, but a strange expression appeared on her face. "What kind of people can you associate with outside these days?"

"Would you believe me if I said we were going to do an interview? Hahaha!" Philip chuckled and walked away, but the smile on his face gradually froze.

"So, it wasn't Commander Davis and his men who came to collect the letter in person?"

Who could it be? Philip was pondering as he approached the dormitory door when he bumped into a guy dressed all in black.

"Captain Schreiber?" Yes, that ruthless killer from the special operations team.

“Don’t be so formal, don’t be so formal. I just came to see how you and the Soviets are doing in the military camp.” Schreiber gently wiped his fingers on Philip’s sleeve and the brand-new chess box. “Hmm, not as good as we are with Mariebell. Let me see what you usually play?”

Philip casually opened the box, only to see Schreiber rummaging through the chess pieces inside, making a complete mess of them.

"Why are you guys buying all this stuff with Chinese characters? Can you even read it?" Schreiber said with a smile, but it sent a chill down your spine. "Well, maybe you Americans are different from those who worked in the POW camp. You not only ask around but also write letters to outsiders."

"A letter?" Philip's eyes widened. — This was an instruction from Commander Davis: Allied agents who had been lying in wait might be sending them packages or letters recently, so everyone should pay close attention to any mail and take it immediately.

“Charlie Finette, Ashford College, huh.” Schreiber then leisurely took the letter out of his pocket and read the signature. “Hey, aren’t you American soldiers supposed to use chocolates and cigarettes to seduce mature women, making it happen that same day and finishing it that night? How come you’re starting to take things slow and steady with the girls in school these days?”

"Ha, I can tell you wasted your adolescence just by listening to that, Mr. Nazi." After hearing the sender's name, Philip raised his chin sarcastically. "Want me to help you fill in the gaps?"

As he spoke, Philip suddenly leaned close to Schreiber, and as Schreiber took the envelope from the Nazi man's hand, they kissed.

"Scheisse!" Schreiber blurted out his native tongue curse, which was etched into his DNA. He pushed Philip away while cursing, spitting as he did so, and then wiped his mouth with his sleeve for a long time.

"Oh, right, I forgot, it seems you Nazis were going to put homosexuals in concentration camps too, right?" Philip raised an eyebrow, laughed heartily, and held his right hand with the five fingers together, straightened, and stood next to his right ear—imitating the gesture Hitler used to return the salute to high-ranking officials on film. "I'm really sorry, so, the crematorium sees you!"

……

The personnel in the barracks of the US military have changed. At the beginning, five soldiers were squeezed into five beds in one room, but now four people share a room with a table.

As one of the vanguards fighting the Japanese, Taylor was assigned to sleep with several other newcomers. His original bunk below Davis was given to Harrington, the one who had been called to City Hall with Taylor and had insulted Suzaku, and who later taught everyone in Kofu how the Pacific Marines treated the surrendered Showa people.

In addition, each room is now equipped with a hands-free telephone, but it cannot be used to make calls between rooms; it is specifically used for emergency calls to superiors, relaying messages from the mailroom, and reporting emergencies.

After listening to Philip's description of what had just happened, Davis first pressed the button on the telephone to call the infirmary, but there was no dial tone—could someone have ripped the telephone cable?

"What do we do? The Nazi lackeys have their eyes on us?"

The soldiers were sweating a little. After confirming that no one was eavesdropping outside the door, they hurriedly asked Philip to open the envelope—the seal on the envelope was intact, so Schreiber definitely hadn't peeked at it. He was probably just here to intimidate them.

Believe it or not, the letter really was written by Shirley to Philip. It wasn't that the agents found out Shirley's name, nor was it some latest intelligence about stealing integrated circuits.

"...There's something I'd like to share with you privately: I've chosen to forgive the boy who killed my father, but I still can't bear to see him fighting against so many enemies all by himself. I want to help him, but I don't know how to put your mind at ease..."

"Damn, it would be against all reason if Lelouch didn't marry this devoted girl, wouldn't it?" Davis blurted out.

After Philip rescued Shirley, they inquired about the girl's background—last year, when Cornelia, then governor of District 11, led the siege of the Japanese Liberation Front headquarters at Narita Mountain, the Black Knights caused a landslide. While this devastated the Imperial Army, it also affected the civilian area below the mountain, and Shirley's father was among those who perished.

The one who came up with this tactic must be ZERO, which means that the culprit who killed Shirley's father was Lelouch.

But what happened next was even more outrageous. As they continued their investigation, they discovered that Shirley, Lelouch, and Suzaku Kururugi, now a Knight of the Round Table, were actually classmates—a lovestruck girl caught between a prince who had personally raised the banner of rebellion and a Knight of the Round Table who had betrayed the Yamato bloodline to protect the emperor, and they had been getting along peacefully in class and the student council ever since. My god, what kind of script is this?

"Damn it, this is so annoying." The soldiers scratched their heads in frustration. There was still no news from the agents, Clark couldn't contact Lelouch, and now the Nazis were watching their every move. The relationship between Lelouch and Suzaku was becoming increasingly complicated. Their brains were about to explode.

"Calm down, calm down, we'll solve the problems one by one." Davis stepped forward and banged the gavel. "First of all, our most important task is to find the city hall, and preferably get in touch with Suzaku Kururugi to have a good backer. Secondly, we should discuss with the agents not to contact them for the time being, and let the Nazis over there keep their distance."

“It’s fine for Philip and Shirley to inquire about Suzaku, but are we going to use Suzaku as our backer?” Garcia shrugged. “Have you forgotten how Taylor and Harrington badly berated him?”

"At least, before Suzaku can believe from the Nazis that there are Allied agents under his nose, we have to make him believe that the Nazis are not as reliable as us."

Davis lit a cigarette, glanced at the pistol holster at his waist, then at the chess box Philip had brought back, and seemed to have an idea.

……

At Ashford Academy, the real Lelouch is still there, living as a student, accompanying Gino and Anya who have come to experience school life. Suzaku is rarely seen.

However, in the past few days, he had a bad feeling. His bag and closet were inexplicably filled with newspapers and photos about the recent traffic control measures in various parts of Area 11. According to the Britannian military's usual practice, this must be related to troop deployments and combat operations.

As the commander of the Black Knights, who had long clashed with the Imperial armies, having constant intelligence was a fundamental principle, but the problem was that he couldn't recall ever putting these things here. Even more absurdly, someone had circled certain paragraphs in red pen, some useful and some not.

He couldn't figure out who did it, and even Luo Luo couldn't answer him. At this moment, only at the far end of the school desk would Xia Li turn her face away with a relieved smile after he picked up the newspaper.

"...I don't know who you love, but I can sense that he is someone who walks on the edge of a knife and amidst a hail of bullets. So it is not wise for you to use your own force to help the one you love." This was the reply Philip gave to the letter I wrote that day.

"There's an old Chinese saying, 'Planning strategies within the tent leads to victory a thousand miles away.' By informing him of the potential dangers he might face in his next task, like a strategist, you can not only help him but also prevent your mother from losing sleep over your safety..." Since she couldn't understand why Shirley was still obsessed with Lelouch, she didn't bother trying to figure it out. Besides, it was more important to keep her alive and contribute to the soldiers' intelligence.

Shirley had planned to get ready and continue to the swimming club to mentor the new recruits, but then she spotted a familiar face among the three people walking side-by-side on the street outside her window. "Mr. Philip?"

It was indeed him, still holding a chess box, accompanied by his superior officer Davis, who was constantly on the phone, and Ivanov, a Soviet soldier who had been with him earlier.

The three of them were wandering around outside Ashford College when suddenly, at a street corner, a group of strangers surrounded them, pulling out peaked caps from their coats that were indistinguishable from those of the SS and putting them on.

Upon seeing this, Davis swiftly threw his phone behind the wall to the side.

"Hey, wait a minute, I just came to say hello." Schreiber, still the leader with a grin, was in casual clothes. "Who were you talking to on the phone? Why are you avoiding me like this?"

Seeing that Davis remained silent, he turned his attention back to Philip.

"Don't all the high-ranking officials in the Tokyo Concession play chess? What are you doing carrying this thing with Chinese characters on it? Let me see it." Schreiber stared at it carefully. This chess box was different from the one Philip had before. It was bigger, and the packaging was not only different but also much older.

“This isn’t convenient, is it, Captain Schreiber?” Philip turned to look at Davis, and the two exchanged a glance, then held the chess box they had been carrying in their hands to their chests.

"Enough with the nonsense! Don't think I don't know what you're doing!" Schreiber immediately turned hostile, and a German soldier rushed over and snatched the chess box away, shaking it and making some metallic clanging sounds.

When they opened it, there were no chess pieces at all, only fully loaded magazines of pistols and submachine guns, each one crammed full of bullets.

"Excuse me, gentlemen." Schreiber was overjoyed, almost jumping for joy. "Would you like to come with me?"

"Oh? Do you have the right to do that?" Philip, who had just looked timid, suddenly became much more arrogant, raised his hand, and slapped Schreiber hard across the face.

Schreiber, enraged, was about to order the special operations team members to hold Philip and his men down when the latter pulled a piece of paper out of the box.

"Take us away or kill us, it's up to you. But let me tell you first, I was fighting you on behalf of Nanali and Lord Suzaku Kururugi!"

Before everyone could react, they saw Guilford and two other members of the Glaston Knights, who had also originally served Cornelia but now served Nunnally and Suzaku, slowly flying down in Vincent's car.

"What happened, Captain Schreiber?"

……

That evening, Karlstadt and Gunther were watching television at Mariebell's residence in the Tokyo concession, while Henrik happened to be returning from the 16th district of the Korean Peninsula.

The scene shows Suzaku Kururugi, acting as a spokesperson for the city hall, explaining that the 11th District's firearms department can provide door-to-door delivery services for firearms, parts, and ammunition to exceptionally well-behaved civilian gun owners.

"Damn it..." Schreiber returned at that moment, clutching his swollen face. "I didn't even have time to check the news this morning, and I got slapped like this? Nobody told me they were delivering bullets to civilians..."

"Do you think that Suzaku Kururugi's new statement today might have been suggested by these Americans?" Gunther stroked his chin, somewhat puzzled.

"Who hit you?" Karlstadt didn't think about that; he asked Schreiber first.

“That clown among the Americans, is his name Philip or something like that?” Schreiber angrily threw his hat off. “And then there’s their leader, Davis, and some unfamiliar Russian guy. Damn, I only got slapped, and they were completely fine.”

“Oh, not that hot-tempered Taylor, nor that pilot who had been in the Pacific, it’s true that saying that wouldn’t raise so much suspicion.” Karlstadt was troubled. If things continued like this, Nunnally and Suzaku would still trust the “disciplined” American and Soviet officers and soldiers more, and Mariebell, who was her backer, would have a hard time getting ahead. Naturally, the special operations team would also have a hard time dealing with these Allied prisoners of war.

"Are you only focused on currying favor with the Americans and Soviets? Don't you think those high-ranking officials are too easy to fool?" Henrik spoke up at this moment.

Seeing everyone glancing at him, Henrik calmly turned up the TV volume. The news was about recent street gunfights among civilians in District 11: many old German men who had served in the People's Stormtroopers were now legally and legitimately taking up shotguns and pistols, beating a bunch of Japanese bastards who had started the trouble but were easily defeated and ran away with their heads in their hands.

"You're not trying to add fuel to the fire for these Japanese and cause a huge mess, are you?" Gunther was getting a little anxious. He knew very well that if he did that, many Germans like him who wanted to return to their homeland would suffer.

“If we don’t do something, we’ll be the ones in big trouble. Human life is cheap.” Henrik stood up with a grin, patted him on the shoulder, and then called Karlstadt into another room.

Chapter 360, Section 458: Washington to New York, time taken 1.1 milliseconds.

Every country has a side that it doesn't open to the public, which is an important guarantee of national security. As one of the two poles of the world in the future, the United States naturally understands this principle.

Secretary of War Paterson and Army Chief of Staff General Marshall, along with a group of generals, followed President Truman into a secret base heavily guarded by sentries and guards.

Here, everything related to Britannia that had been transported from the European front was piled up.

“We’ve learned something about these ‘aliens’ energy sources, Mr. President.” Marshall picked up a booklet and showed it to Truman as he flipped through it. “Their world has a periodic table that’s almost identical to ours, except for something called Sakura Stone.”

"I've heard about it. They use it in engines?"

"That's right. By installing this strange superconductor into the weapon's power system, their engines can use the principle of magnetism generating electricity and electricity generating magnetism to make their weapons work."