Chapter 1217: Chapter 141: The Fox of Gottingen
At the University of Gottingen, there stands a quaint little stone house, an activity venue granted by the school to one of the student clubs.
However, compared to other student club premises, this house possesses a distinctive feature that is rare.
Even though the furniture inside is simply arranged, the floor is neither carpeted nor sanded, but is directly covered with a layer of black paper on the white ground.
For those unaware of the secret here, they might assu this is so bizarre hobby of the hoowner.
But all mbers of the University of Gottingen’s ‘Poranian Sword Club’ know that the black paper on the ground plays a significant role in mystical rituals, and all new mbers must utilize it to complete the initiation ceremony before joining the club.
As per the initiation ritual, all applicants lie on the black paper floor, having their outlines drawn by senior club mbers. Each human-shaped outline is about four to five square feet and is frad with narrow black wood and hung on the wall.
From the outlines on the wall, it can be deduced that the ‘Poranian Sword Club’ isn’t sparsely populated, with at least over 100 mbers.
The orderly curves gradually taper to a common bottom, stacking layer upon layer like a pyramid; the majority of lower and mid-level outlines are mounted on white fir wood, while the scarce mid-upper level outlines are frad in hierarchy with walnut, mahogany, and oak, distinguishing club mbers’ ranks well—the Grand Master, Master, Division Commander, and Sergeant.
Seeing these nas, anyone knowledgeable in dieval history can tell these amusing lads are emulating the organizational structure of the Teutonic Knights.
Though they have never been as wealthy as the Teutonic Knights nor owned a territory larger than this small house, they still make a show of decorating the third wall of the room with a pair of shining swords.
This pair of swords is crossed and fixed against the wall, as if proclaiming to all visitors: We mbers of the Poranian Sword Club are no pushovers!
A creaking sound is heard, soone pushes open the door, sunlight streams into the room through the crack, and the reflection off the swords is dazzling enough to make one nearly dizzy.
Entering is a tall and slim young man, though not yet fully developed, his weight ets adult standards.
His dressing style is completely out of sync with Gogentine’s current fashion; he wears a wrinkled jacket without a collar or buttons, seemingly faded. And his lower body sports particularly baggy trousers, iron-heeled boots with protruding boot spikes. His shirt tie isn’t tied but draped over his shoulders.
His hair covers his ears and neck, showing signs of a budding beard, though the beard’s color is unclear yet, resembling fuzz more than a beard; this is a prominent feature on his face.
Besides, a large sword is at his left waist, a holster at his right, with a huge signet ring on his ring finger for decoration.
He steps into the room, unbuckles his belt, takes off the handgun and sword hanging on it, throws them on the ground, unable to stop chattering to a friend trailing behind.
“Only here can I set aside my antics for a while and beco sowhat rational. Although it’s a boring matter, this is about earning a reputation. Initially, as a fox who had been in Gottingen for rely three months, I knew no one but longed to make a na for myself here, introducing myself to the mbers of the Poranian Sword Club, only to find no chance of success. John, if such a situation happened to you back then, what would you do?”
John Motley shrugged at this friend who had just been elected as Gestapo President with great satisfaction: “I reckon you’d make friends with the Grand Master, ingratiate yourself with the senior club mbers, and let them give you a chance to showcase yourself.”
“That’s the Arican mindset, but here is Germany, your thod won’t work.”
Bismarck snorted: “I publicly insulted them in the worst possible way. I broke a Division Commander’s nose, shaved off a Master’s upper lip and mustache, and didn’t greet others much. After I did that, everyone in the club admired my bravery; they yearned for such a gallant fighter, cheering as they voted to let join.
I intend to lead my companions here, and in the latter half of my life, to be their leader. You can see how rational a person I am now. You’d barely recognize as the man you ran into on the street half an hour ago, back when you encountered a blustering madman.
But I see this as a way to stand out. When I arrived at university, I decided, since my competitors are those indulgent, violent, eccentric people, and I must conquer them, my indulgence, violence, and eccentricity must be tenfold theirs!”
Motley couldn’t help but laugh when he heard Bismarck ntion what happened half an hour ago.
No one present could forget that this fellow, younger than many freshn, unexpectedly took his big dog nad ‘Ariel’ on stage to publicly give a campaign speech. And not just his words, but even his gestures were so explosive.
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