Wall of Death

To Alex's surprise, after a large crowd had been driven into the center of the open ground, they were not immediately divided into groups. An officer stepped out from a corner, his white gloves glaringly conspicuous in the dim surroundings. The officer did not even look at the chaotic crowd before him. His hands twisted together as he tilted his head slightly, seemingly deep in thought.

The SS soldiers who had roughly escorted them there retreated to the side. With no one keeping them in check, the crowd grew increasingly noisy, and a few bold people even began clamoring for food.

Alex looked at the officer, and a fear like facing a venomous snake rose within him. This was an extremely dangerous man. Alex did not dare move rashly, and at his warning, the Eisenhart family also behaved themselves, not daring to make the slightest move.

After a while longer, perhaps because no one had stopped them, the crowd became even more unrestrained, their shouting growing louder.

"Looking to die!" Alex cursed under his breath. He decisively pulled Ella and Audrey to the very edge of the crowd, and the Eisenhart family followed after them.

The officer leisurely raised his hands, turning them over and examining them carefully as he muttered something under his breath.

Then, the previously motionless SS soldiers sprang into the crowd like tigers unleashed, quickly seizing those who had shouted the loudest and dragging them out. Someone tried to struggle, but a rifle butt smashed into his forehead without hesitation, and blood immediately burst forth.

More than twenty people were dragged out and hauled before a wall. The white-gloved officer walked over, a faint smile on his face as he slowly said something.

Behind him, a slightly hunched man dressed in black leather and wearing rimless glasses stepped forward. In English with a strange accent, he introduced, "This is the commander of the SS Skull Division, Rudolf Fernandi, now the commandant of Auschwitz Concentration Camp." Then he pointed at the twenty-some people being held against the wall and angrily snapped, "These people have disturbed the peace of Auschwitz Concentration Camp. Therefore, Commander Rudolf will grant them death!"

After speaking in English, the translator said something again in French and several other languages Alex could not understand. Alex guessed he was repeating what had just been said.

Alex turned his head slightly and coldly looked at Rudolf White Glove, then at the impassioned translator. Rage filled his heart, but there was nothing he could do. He could only cover Audrey's eyes with his hand and watch helplessly as those twenty-some people fell beneath the SS soldiers' guns.

After the most direct threat of death, everyone fell silent, as docile as little lambs. The following division into groups proceeded exceptionally smoothly as well. No one dared argue in the slightest, and they watched sorrowfully as they were separated from their families.

Ella and the others had long been warned by Alex. Though reluctant, they obediently followed the SS soldiers leading them toward the place they were supposed to go. Alex, meanwhile, followed another group of SS soldiers in a different direction with Jacob and Marx.

The large group of men was divided into several barracks, each holding more than five hundred people. They were assigned to low, temporary brick buildings filled with rows of bunk beds. The beds had several tiers, with only thirty centimeters between each level—just enough room to lie down, with no space even to sit up.

At that moment, Alex regretted it so deeply his guts turned green.

On the other side of Auschwitz Concentration Camp, in a three-story building with white walls and black tiles, Rudolf reclined on a sofa with a glass of amber liquor in his hand. A cold smile hung on his face. "The Führer said these people are useless. Kill those who can be killed. As for those who cannot, find a place and bury them alive."

The translator stood beside him, bowing and scraping. "Long live the Führer!"

After a while, the translator left the small building and entered the office building next door, returning to his office. Before he even entered, his expression suddenly changed. He signaled for the SS soldiers behind him not to follow, then entered alone.

"Sebastian Shaw, Wang is very dissatisfied with your ability to get things done." A figure emerged from a corner of the office, arrogance covering his young face. "Why is there still no news of that Teleporter?"

The translator, Sebastian Shaw, glanced at the young man. A flash of anger passed through his eyes, but he put on a frightened expression and anxiously explained, "This is not our territory, after all. We cannot conduct a large-scale search. The spies planted in Hydra sent word that they have lost the Teleporter's trail, as if he vanished from the face of the earth. Because of certain special matters, Red Skull has also given up the investigation and rushed to Norway in Northern Europe. No one knows what he is going there for."

Seeing the fear on Sebastian Shaw's face, the young man felt secretly pleased. He nodded pompously and said, "Do not give up the search. He is very important to us."

"He merely has teleportation. Don't we already have Red Devil?" Sebastian Shaw asked cautiously, looking utterly perplexed.

The young man snorted, turned to face Sebastian, and slowly said with a trace of threat, "Sebastian, do not ask questions you should not ask. The more you know, the faster you die!"

Sebastian's expression changed drastically. Cold sweat covered his lowered head.

After a while, Sebastian raised his head, but the young man was already gone. Sebastian straightened up and slowly walked to the window. Turning his head toward the open ground outside, he said through gritted teeth, "One day, I'll kill every last one of you!"

In the beginning, the SS concentration camps were not as insane as they would become later, when people were sent straight to the gas chambers upon arrival and tossed into crematoriums once dead. At this time, the camps still somewhat resembled concentration camps, isolating people and assigning them all kinds of work.

Of course, that did not mean the concentration camp was safe.

On Alex's third day in Auschwitz Concentration Camp, an old man was working in the quarry when a small stone flew off from beneath his iron chisel. By unfortunate coincidence, it struck an SS soldier. The old man was then beaten to death. More than a dozen SS soldiers surrounded him, punching and kicking him, and no matter how he begged, he was not spared.

On the fourth day, someone accidentally dropped his bread on the ground while eating. By chance, Rudolf White Glove saw it. The man was then taken to the wall where those twenty-some people had been shot and, on the charge of wasting food, White Glove blew his head apart with a single shot. Everyone in the concentration camp had been ordered to stand in the open ground and watch.

On the fifth day, more people died—eight of them, still before that wall.

On the sixth day, twenty-six people died, again before that wall.

On the seventh day, seventeen strong men rose up, killed eight SS soldiers, seized their guns, and tried to fight their way out. In the end, all seventeen were killed, and their corpses were hung above the open ground until they rotted. But it did not end there. The remaining four hundred eighty-three people from the same barrack as the seventeen men were dragged one after another before that wall and shot.

That night, gunfire rang out endlessly throughout the concentration camp. Everyone hid inside the low brick buildings, trembling in terror. Beside that wall, blood had pooled into a lake of crimson.

The name Wall of Death spread throughout the entire concentration camp. No one dared walk past it, and they did not even dare glance at it.