Chapter 1: Who is Fate Playing Tricks On

As Gu Changge was striving to discern the time and place he was in, and was eager to turn over and look at the battlefield ahead, a German soldier nearby began to shout loudly.

When he climbed the ladder and emerged from the trench, there was already little sound around. Wearing the gas mask was extremely uncomfortable; some people could only run a few dozen meters before they couldn't hold it any longer and took it off. Thus, due to a faster metabolism, quicker breathing, and increased heart rate, they died more swiftly

Accompanied by the sharp howling produced by the friction of the airflow, bullets striking the sandbags kicked up dirt, causing one to instinctively squint.

Bare | Although the exposed left hand was slightly painful and had developed blisters, it was even more sensitive. Akado felt a faint breeze—at that moment, he almost cried out, the direction of the wind... was favorable

"Accardo! You fool! Bullets! Quickly give me bullets!" The voice was hoarse, filled with an Austrian accent. It was only then that Accardo realized he was next to a machine gun position, where two German soldiers were desperately firing a Maxim machine gun towards the front.

Tears flowed uncontrollably, and he knew it was due to the irritation of his eyes. Fortunately, he was wearing a gas mask, which was quite effective; his eyes were merely irritated and had not lost their function. Although his nasal passages felt uncomfortable, similar to having a cold, it was not a significant issue. Despite the discomfort in breathing, he was still able to maintain the oxygen required by his body. The smoke had thinned considerably, suggesting that he was not far from the edge of the toxic gas. Although his nasal passages felt uncomfortable, similar to having a cold, it was not a significant issue. Despite the discomfort in breathing, he was still able to maintain the oxygen required by his body. The smoke had thinned considerably, suggesting that he was not far from the edge of the toxic gas.

Heaven bear witness, being huddled together with the heavy machine gun positions is undoubtedly akin to seeking death. The primary targets of those small-caliber mortars across the way are precisely these machine gun positions. Generally speaking, based on the experiences summarized from World War II, it is advisable to relocate heavy machine gun positions after they have been exposed for 30 seconds.

As Akado climbed the ladder, someone below was pulling at his boots. Akado could even feel a hand slapping the top of his foot, but he dared not stop. He had no ability to save anyone; staying would only bring misfortune to all. Only by fleeing far away could there be a glimmer of hope

Is it really the case? To teach a lesson in world history and also be able to time travel? Isn't it just discussing some successful battle examples of the German Wehrmacht? Is it really necessary to throw someone onto the battlefield like this? Gu Changge thought, both amused and exasperated.

He could not attend to anything else and hurriedly turned over to look for ammunition. On the other side of his prone body, around an open ammunition box, several long belts of ammunition were scattered.

The soldier, as if grasping a lifeline, lamented, "Thank you, thank you."

It seems that the weapons and technology of the First World War are indeed somewhat different from those of the Second World War that I am familiar with. The great powers have indeed made gradual progress; no one can achieve success overnight.

In a flurry, he hurriedly opened the box and pulled out what seemed to be a new gas mask, desperately starting to put it on his face. As he donned the gas mask, Akado could faintly detect a strange odor reminiscent of mustard.

He quickly crawled backward for a few meters, retreating to the infantry trench. Presumably, the machine gun position still had the ammunition belt he had just delivered, which could hold out for a few more minutes. Akado had to consider his own safety.

The nasal cavity felt as if it had caught a cold, beginning to produce mucus. Akado, who had held his breath, finally managed to put on the gas mask. Looking out through the blurred lenses, the world became distorted. A faintly colored thick smoke enveloped the surroundings, and the sounds of crying, howling, and vomiting curses came from all directions. Akado began to walk slowly towards the ladder not far away.

It seems that fate does not intend to allow Akado to meet his end again within just a few minutes after crossing over. After walking several dozen steps, a gust of wind blew, and the faint toxic gas from the library finally dissipated.

One grabs another! I will lead the way! I can see the path! Follow me! Left, right, left!" Akado shouted with all his might. Although his voice was muffled by the gas mask, many people still came over, some even joined in the shouting. This long line became increasingly spectacular, turning into a scene that no one could appreciate.

Isn't that so? Are you kidding me? Akado, who was on the verge of tears, suddenly found himself in a state of being both amused and bewildered.

"Hold on to my shoulder, I will take you away from this hellish place." Akado kindly walked over and said indistinctly through the gas mask

"Grandson! Can't he hit the mark? I have already rolled out 10 meters, and I still got hit?" Akado shouted, feeling a bit like crying

"Shell!" Before Akado could find a teammate to speak with, a shout rang out. A group of soldiers gathered to watch the commotion quickly moved towards the trench. Akado, disregarding the search for his rifle, hurriedly covered his head and scurried into a corner like a rat crossing the street, curling up into a ball.

In the thin haze, Akado felt a slight pain in his left hand, likely indicating that blisters had begun to form. However, he dared not run quickly; he could only take one step at a time in retreat. He did not want to die, did not want to perish in this cold place

Mustard gas, a lethal poison that Akado is familiar with, is straightforward and domineering, akin to a real-life version of "I will take your life in three thousand ways." This gas is highly effective in causing devastation to the skin, eyes, and respiratory tract. It is undoubtedly an essential tool for murder, arson, and financial gain.

Just a few minutes ago, he was still standing at the podium of a history class at Tsinghua University, serving as a promising young teaching assistant, casting flirtatious glances at the beautiful woman in the middle of the second row while passionately recounting the immense power of the German war machine

This time, Akado fell hard along with the books, and he was so disoriented that he only remembered that the trenches for resisting heavy artillery fire are generally dug to nearly 3 meters deep, with some places even reaching 5 meters. Although he was aware of this, he truly did not think of it at the critical moment

"Akado, you fool! The enemy hasn't charged yet, and you're already this scared." Akado got up, feeling dizzy. While he tried hard to maintain his composure and turned in circles to find his rifle, he heard the "greetings" from his comrades.

World War I, Germany's defensive operations, silent shells... not completely silent shells... not dummy shells, because the shells did make a sound, just not very loud... What kind of shells are not very loud? Curled up, Akado looked at his equipment in his arms

Before Akado could roll far away, explosions began to erupt all around, clearly indicating that the enemy was starting to retaliate, employing none other than small-caliber mortar shells

Hello, sir, I am a private. My name is Akado, Akado Rudolph

God knows how long this machine gun position has been firing, it is better to stay away at this time. In case there is heavy firepower on the opposite side, if a shell falls, it does not distinguish whether one is a machine gunner or not

Thud, thud! Two muffled sounds echoed from a distance, resembling the sound of a shell that had not fully exploded. Akado remained quiet in the corner for a few seconds; although this time was brief, it held immense significance, for he contemplated a multitude of words, indeed, words.

Looking at the Mauser 1898 standard rifle in his hand, he must have a low rank. It is not that he does not understand the insignia classification, but rather that this unfortunate body is clad in a military overcoat. Observing the charred hole on the chest and the dried bloodstains, Gu Changge knows that this overcoat was likely scavenged from another corpse.

By the time Akado reached the front of the ladder, a group of unfortunate individuals was already sprawled around it in disarray. In this era, poison gas was undoubtedly a novel phenomenon. Even though the commanders repeatedly emphasized the dangers of poison gas, and despite the various departments providing everyone with gas masks, there were still those who did not wear them, those who forgot to wear them, and... those who simply did not have time to put them on... Even though the various departments provided everyone with gas masks, and even though the company and platoon leaders had personally instructed how to wear them, there were still those who did not wear them, those who forgot to wear them, and... those who simply did not have time to put them on...

Since ancient times, those who have traversed time either wake up on the battlefield to find that the war is over and they have miraculously survived, or they find themselves in peaceful times where they can at least develop technology and thrive for three to five years. How many are so unfortunate as to be thrown directly onto the front lines only to be bullied by others?

Akado felt a sense of discrimination. After much effort, he finally felt the sensation of being suspended as his toes broke through the leather boots. He knew the trench was right behind him, and with a roll, he tumbled down into the trench. Regardless of how ungraceful his posture was, on the battlefield, anyone who raised their head was a fool—those who stood high in the CCTV, brandishing their pistols and shouting, definitely did not survive to see the founding of the nation.

You are truly a good soldier! You are worthy of our admiration! You remained so composed when facing gas for the first time!" The soldier behind Akado regained a bit of courage as he spoke while walking. When Akado supported him, he saw the man's rank; he was a corporal.

A long bayonet, a water bottle with a dent, a large cloth bag filled with odds and ends, and a round box containing a gas mask; quite a complete set of items... Wait a minute, a gas mask, and a not-so-loud shell! What the hell! Bastard!

"My eyes! Oh God! My eyes! I can't see!" A young soldier screamed, covering his face, as Akado happened to pass by in his direction

It is an honor to meet you. The young man behind replied politely: My name is Adolf Hitler. I am a private.

As he walked, Akado pulled out a scarf from his cluttered pocket and wrapped it around his right hand, while the back of his left hand, which was doing all this, had already turned bright red and began to itch

The good news is that Gu Changge is not dead, the bad news is that he has traveled through time, and has found himself in the body of a German soldier with a thick Ruhr industrial area accent as soon as he opened his mouth—it's uncertain whether he is handsome or not, but he knows that his physique is much taller than before. Unfortunately, this news is not really good news on a battlefield where bullets are flying everywhere.

... ...

The trench is over two meters high, and climbing up is impossible. Having just learned a lesson, Arcado would not be so foolish. Why not run? Try running with a gas mask—especially one of poor quality. Your breathing will become labored, forcing you to remove the gas mask, which is tantamount to suicide

As the sound of cannon fire gradually faded, Akado looked towards the machine gun position he had just occupied, where flames were still spewing forth, and two of his comrades were unharmed as they slaughtered the enemy across from them

I can't believe it! Akado fell into a trench like a dog chewing on feces. The trenches of World War I are not something Akado could have imagined, with depths of nearly 2.5 meters and almost 30 centimeters of sewage inside.

There are now living people on the ground, the cries of anguish growing closer and more numerous, increasingly filled with vitality. This is a cause for celebration—after countless lives have been lost, you still have the strength to cry out. How fortunate this is.

In a flurry, he hastily grabbed a belt of ammunition, and after crawling a few paces, handed the bullets to the assistant gunner responsible for loading the ammunition in the trench. Then, Akado, disregarding his breathlessness, quickly rolled to the side

However, sadly, due to a lack of concentration, he stepped on a live wire and thus bid farewell to his beautiful yet unremarkable life

With eyes wide open, a gray biplane adorned with an Iron Cross swooped through the low sky, its nose spewing flames, clearly firing at its target.