The Death Knell

In the boundless universe, there is a small island floating. It is probably a little bigger than a manhole cover and looks like ordinary gravel.

But at this time, there was a disproportionately tall figure standing on it. He had a huge head, wearing a sleeveless robe like a white tablecloth, and a blue cloak hanging softly behind him.

In his eyes, the earth was emitting a faint shimmer, and just as he was looking at the planet full of life, a small thing flew close to him.

Like a little fairy without wings, an iron man with a trumpet, with a tape on his chest like an old-fashioned tape recorder.

The figure in the blue cloak did not look back, but he also noticed the newcomers. He said in a clear voice: "Recorder, I am ready to tell you."

The small human voice recorder landed on his shoulder, and he climbed up grabbing the cloak: "Perfect timing, observer, eternity has been worried about your workload."

"Tens of thousands of years have passed, and I finally understand that the process of presenting and solving some things is more important than recording what I see. There are many principles that drive the development of the process of things, and a lot of knowledge needs to be digested by me, but at this moment , I’m ready to start recording.”

The observer stated his point of view, a truth, just as he always did, his tone was calm and his eyes remained on the earth.

The little tape recorder didn't say much. He twisted the button on his chest to make what looked like a tape spin.

"3, 2, 1"

.............................

This is the record of a special group of people, with various names, living in human society, but who are rarely regarded as human beings.

Mutant.

When human and mutant become two words, things get complicated.

Mutants are often described in a derogatory manner, despite the fact that it is human nature to evolve in order to survive.

Therefore, in order to protect themselves, genetically mutated 'hybrids' must always restrain themselves to maintain the favorability of the masses.

But like a witch, no one can hide forever.

Therefore, the tension between humans and mutants has been very obvious for centuries, but the prejudice is mostly isolated from the surface, until one day in the 20th century, when human-shaped flames fly like that across the night sky, things cannot be covered. Living.

Within minutes, the flames of the explosion covered several blocks, and thousands of people were turned into charcoal in the flames, especially after learning that the so-called 'Burning Man' was once exhibited at the New York World's Fair.... ..

The intense fear seemed to gradually blur his vision.

People once again raised the torches and weapons from the witch-hunting era, chanting slogans such as 'Death to mutants' and 'Freaks get out of America' and took to the streets with slogans.

Now that World War II is over, under the covert operation of some people who are thirsty for power, the issue of mutants seems to be on the table again in an instant.

.....................

Ukraine has a very good climate, with fertile land and abundant rainfall. Even the winter is not as cold as in places further north.

In southwestern Ukraine, there is a place called Vinnitsa Oblast. It is not as wealthy as other places because there are more mountains and forests here, which are not particularly suitable for farming.

But for some people who want to hide and live quietly, this place is perfect.

After spending a lot of time, strategy and hard work, Marx and Magda lived a satisfactory life together after completely getting rid of the lingering stench of the concentration camp.

"Max, we've been here for a year and no one wants to talk to me."

At this time, Magda was in a simple wooden house, cooking a pot of gruel on the stove. There were only some corn kernels and vegetable leaves in it, and the poor house was leaking from all directions.

"They look down on me, my daughter, and our whole family." She scooped out the porridge from the pot, put it in a cracked pottery bowl, and placed it on the dining table cut out of a tree stump.

Marx was his original name because he was Jewish, and now in Ukraine, living in an unbreakable union, it was better not to be associated with anyone in Germany, so he replaced the original German name with a more bear-like pronunciation of that version.

Now his name is Magnus, and he is holding his young daughter in his arms, patting her back gently at the dining table: "We have just come to this society, these people are very conservative..."

Magda took the food, sighed deeply, and put the bowl on the table: "We are almost out of food. This winter is very cold and we won't be able to survive it."

"Huh..." Magnus rubbed his face: "Hasn't Mrs. Maria paid you to help with the laundry?"

"She paid, five potatoes and five corns, but we just ate them last night. These..." Magda pointed to the porridge in the bowl where you could almost see the bottom of the bowl: "These are the only ones left. It’s coming down.”

Magnus seemed to understand. He nodded, picked up the bowl and fed his daughter: "I understand. After dinner, I will go to the mountain to cut more firewood and see if I can exchange it with others. Food, winter is very cold, and every home needs heating."

Magnus did not have many life skills. He grew up in various concentration camps since he was a child. His best job was to collect corpses and send them to the crematorium.

This is not a joke, this was really his job in the concentration camp. The Germans initially moved the corpses from the gas chambers themselves, but later found that there were too many corpses. This was undoubtedly a kind of hard work.

The crematorium is the fastest-expanding building for concentrated profit-making, and there are never enough.

So NAZI started using teenagers to carry the corpses, which was more labor-saving and more affordable.

But now it seems that there is an additional benefit. Magnus is very powerful. He can do many things that ordinary people cannot do without using his own abilities.

Although he didn't know any other skills at this time, he was willing to go through fire and water for his family.

.....................

"Sir, this money is only half of what you originally promised?"

When Magnus braved the heavy snow and moved the hard-cut firewood into the courtyard of the rich family in the village, he did not get the reward he deserved.

The man chewing tobacco glanced at him and spat on the snow beside him.

"Bah! That's enough for you!"

"But... I still have a wife and children at home..." Magnus walked around in front of him and negotiated seriously.

"What does it matter to me whether you die or not? I know that you are Germans and Italians and our enemies. You'd better not let me report to the mayor."

Magnus spread his hands and stopped the person who wanted to close the door: "But I am not a Nazi. I am a Jew and a victim, an ordinary person."

"Ordinary people who can't even grow corn? Are you a deserter? What, am I right? Damn Germans, you only deserve to eat cow dung!"

The difference in understanding between the two determines the difference in viewpoints. Farmers in remote villages cannot figure out the difference between Nazi and Jews.

Comrade Steel said that the Germans and Italians are enemies, so they are, and now that the war is over, they are losers. Do losers want any fairness?

Even though the price itself is already low, wouldn’t it be better if you could only pay half of it? There is so much firewood, it would be a good idea to trade it with others for other things.

Magnus has suffered a lot. If he was alone, he could leave here and live in another place.

But now he has a family and a mysterious organization to hunt him down. He just wants to fight for what he deserves now. He has worked hard and must get the remuneration agreed in advance.

"Please, don't leave. My family really needs these rewards, please."

"Pooh!"

There is only labor and no pay. How is that different from a concentration camp?

Seeing the proud farmers who were about to close their doors, Magnus's patience reached its limit. He had to get sufficient payment and brave the heavy snow to go to the town to buy food before dark.

The ax on the ground nearby instantly rose into the air and was placed on the farmer's neck as if being held by an invisible hand. The cold ax blade froze all the cold sweat that had just flowed out on the farmer's neck.