"I never thought they would betray me······."
"The police station was also taken over. I took all the weapons there, but..."
"The morale of the assault team members is beyond words."
"What are we going to do now?"
Rom, who was quietly smoking a cigarette with a stiff face, asked me. The others also looked at me, as if they were expecting an answer.
"It's all my fault."
I closed my eyes tightly and put my hand on my heart, pretending to feel guilty about what had gone wrong.
"I was too reckless. I was trying to keep them from going anywhere, lest they betray us... I was foolishly complacent. I'm sorry."
"Well, there's no need for you to apologize. This was unexpected for any of us."
When I apologized, Rum waved his hand in embarrassment.
"Shrek, Maurice. I have a favor to ask of you."
"Please speak, Your Majesty."
"You take the injured to the hospital."
"The party leader is···."
"Don't worry about me, just hurry up."
Shrek and Maurice left with worried expressions on their faces.
"Goering, Hess."
"Yes, sir."
"You take the important documents and go to Hanfstangle. Everyone else will come with me."
***
11:30 AM, November 9th.
I marched at the front with the leading party officials, including Röhm, the Strasser brothers, and Ludendorff.
Assault team members and party members followed us, armed. Pedestrians stopped and watched our procession in silence.
We marched through the square in front of City Hall to the military headquarters building.
"Stop, stop!"
"Don't move!"
In front of the military headquarters, armed troops were stationed. Dozens of guns were pointed straight ahead, awaiting the order to fire.
An officer on horseback, who appeared to be the commander, shouted through a loudspeaker.
"I'm telling you, rebels. All rebels, listen up. You are criminals who have committed an unlawful riot. Disperse immediately—"
"gibberish!"
The officer seemed taken aback by my shouts and put down the loudspeaker for a moment. I seized the moment to shout.
"We're rebels? We're a riot? Who said that?
We have risen up for our cause! We have taken action to drive out the traitors in Berlin who have betrayed the German people, who have turned a blind eye to their plight and are only concerned with their own well-being, and to return the rights of this country to its original owners, the people!
As fellow Germans, you know exactly what we're talking about. So don't stop us."
After finishing speaking, I formed a scrum with my comrades sitting on either side of me.
The soldiers were agitated when they saw us walking towards them in a scrum instead of retreating even after seeing the muzzle of a gun.
However, the officer was firm.
"firing!"
As soon as the gunshots rang out, dozens of guns fired simultaneously. At the same time, I felt my friend's body sag beside me.
"Ugh."
Otto Strasser collapsed, blood streaming from his mouth.
Blood from the bullet-ridden chest soaked the coat red.
"Retreat! Retreat!"
"Everyone step back!"
The assault team also opened fire, knocking out several soldiers, but the situation was beyond repair.
My bodyguard, Ulrich Graf, who was on the far right, jumped out in front of me and shouted.
"Shoot, you bastards! At Hitler, at Ludendorff!"
Even after being shot in the thigh, Graf fought back, screaming with all his might.
I helped him up and dragged him back quickly. Ludendorff stood still, his expression blank.
"Hey guys! Graf, take this guy to the hospital!"
"All right!"
Two stormtroopers rushed over and helped Graf up. I ran forward again.
Gregor was already standing next to his dead brother. He looked at me and shook his head as if to say, "I'm wrong."
I couldn't tell if it meant my brother was dead or if things had gone wrong.
"There he is! It's Hitler!"
"Just stay still!"
"Gotcha, you bastard!"
***
Gregor Strasser, Ludendorff and I were arrested at the scene.
Otto Strasser was killed, and Röhm, Hess, Schreck, and Maurice fled with party officials and were arrested by the police.
Hanfstangl was not arrested as he was deemed unrelated to the incident.
In Goering's case, he fled to Sweden where his wife's family was.
I was imprisoned in solitary confinement in Landsberg Prison.
There was no heating, and the only meals served were boiled potatoes and porridge that had become cold and hard as rocks, twice a day.
It was a little better than the meals I ate while rolling around in the trenches of the Western Front, but for someone accustomed to warm food, it was a truly disappointing meal. Every time, I would hypnotize myself into enduring it.
Isn't this something we've already experienced once?
It's part of the plan anyway. Just hold on a little longer. Just a little longer.
***
The year changed and it became 1924.
On February 24th, when winter was coming to an end,
I was sent to the Munich court to stand trial.
In front of the court, reporters and onlookers who had come to hear the news were crowded.
"Mr. Hitler? Tell me a word about the incident."
"Is it true that you threatened the governor with a pistol?"
"Mr. Hitler, please say something!"
While the police escorting me desperately tried to hold back the incoming reporters, I kept my mouth shut and walked silently.
As soon as they entered the courtroom, the camera reporters all fired their flashes.
Ludendorff, Röhm, Hess, Strasser, Schreck, Maurice and other arrested colleagues sat in the judge's chair.
After exchanging brief greetings with them, I sat down.
"Let the trial begin."
I looked up at the judge. Just in case, I saw a familiar face.
Judge Georg von Neithardt.
Even in history, he was the judge who presided over Hitler's trial. I was secretly worried that someone else might take charge, but it turns out my worries were unfounded.
"Defendant Adolf Hitler, you are charged with treason."
As the prosecutor began to speak, the chaotic room became quiet.
"First, let me ask you something. It has been confirmed that the defendant was born in Austria, not Germany. What country is the defendant from? Please state the defendant's exact nationality."
It's started.
"I'm sorry, sir, but your question is vague and I don't quite understand."
"The question is ambiguous? What do you mean?"
"That's literally it. When you say nationality, do you mean the few letters on the document you're holding, or the blood that flows through me?"
After finishing speaking, I looked at Nighthart's face. He seemed startled by the completely unexpected remark, and he released his hand from his chin.
"······That's a completely unexpected answer. Okay, let's change the question. Does the defendant claim innocence?"
"no."
"?"
"I······ am guilty."
As he admitted his guilt, the room became noisy again.
The judge asked questions directly on behalf of the prosecutor.
"Guilty? Are you serious?"
"Yes, Your Honor."
"Why?"
"If you failed to carry out the will of the people and only caused the deaths of your innocent comrades, then what else are you guilty of?"
"Please continue speaking. I will listen and then decide."
"Your Honor, this is a courtroom. The defendant has nothing to do with the trial—"
The inspector protested, but Nighthart raised his hand to stop him.
Things are going smoothly.
"Let me ask you this: If someone takes something back from a robber who stole it from them, is that person a thief?
We were betrayed in 1918 by our own leaders.
They betrayed the blood and labor of our people. They made the deaths of countless young people and the sorrows of their families in vain!
I wanted to reclaim the people's rights from those in power. Furthermore, I wanted to restore this country's rightful rights and make Germany great again.
But I accomplished nothing. The revolution failed, and I dashed the hopes of the German people who supported me.
Therefore, I am guilty."
Almost everyone in the courtroom stood and applauded, even the judges.
***
After that, it was a breeze.
Nighthart, who had already fallen for me, allowed me unlimited defense, and the courtroom was instantly transformed into a party meeting.
I spoke as if shouting to the audience packed into the courtroom.
"The Bavarian governor, Karl, promised me unlimited support and declared his intention to join the revolution! But I was the defendant, and he was just a bystander.
"If I'm guilty, why is he innocent? What's the reason? If the one who betrayed the aspirations of the German people is innocent, no one will stand up for justice!"
"Just think about it! Imagine Germany washing away the wounds of defeat, rising again, and reigning over the world!
The sight of the German flag waving again in Alsace and Lorraine, and East Prussia once again connected by land!
"It's not some vain, unattainable fantasy. It's a natural right that all Germans should enjoy, and it's a spectacle that should exist in the world!"
"I fought on the front lines for the past four years. I fought with such bravery that I even received the Iron Cross.
Some people saw the Iron Cross on my chest and praised me as a hero.
But I don't consider myself a hero.
I'm not a hero, I can't be one, and I don't intend to be one. Real heroes are out there.
The millions of comrades who fell on the fields, at sea, in the trenches, and in the mud during four years of war are the true heroes.
Without their sacrifice, today's Germany would not exist.
Berlin's politicians refuse to acknowledge the reality that their current lives are sustained by their sacrifices. Their only concern is draining the blood of the people and maintaining their power.
Are you going to just sit back and watch them continue to rule this country?
Or will we all rise up together and rebuild this country with the true power of the people?"
At the end of each speech, the courtroom erupted in excitement.
Almost everyone stood up, applauded, and cheered, chanting my name, except for a few spectators, presumably Communist supporters, and the prosecutor, who sat there with a sullen expression.
"Hitler! Hitler! Hitler!"
Suddenly I realized that those cries calling me Hitler no longer sounded awkward at all.
Before I knew it, I was feeling joy at the sound of people cheering.