Chapter 1: Bergbraukel Beer Hall

Where is this place?

It is night now.

In front of Wang Weiguo stands a three-story building, with curved windows on the first floor, glowing with orange lights. Inside, a hall reverberates with the sounds of a rally. A magnetic voice echoes through the air.

Where is this place?

Wang Weiguo doesn't respond. He only remembers that as a university student studying in Germany, he had come to Munich to study. Full of excitement, he and a few German classmates decided to visit the most famous beer hall in Munich to drink beer. This is where Hitler launched his coup!

As a man from Northeast China, Wang Weiguo is an experienced drinker. Moreover, men from the Northeast are generally outgoing, rarely quiet when drinking. Here at this beer hall, as they talked about Hitler, Wang Weiguo eloquently analyzed how Hitler had missed several crucial opportunities.

"Germany's biggest flaw was its small population! If they had had 200 million people back then, they would have swept the world!" Wang Weiguo declared, drinking more and more as the conversation went on.

After a leisurely exit from the beer hall, Wang Weiguo's hazy eyes were suddenly hit by a bright light.

A German classmate shouted, "Look, a meteor! Hey, Weiguo!"

The light came straight toward Wang Weiguo. Though still tipsy, he felt the strange vibration of the Blood Medal he had found earlier that day in a second-hand market.

When the light passed, Wang Weiguo found himself in a different place.

There were no tall buildings around, certainly not Munich. The surroundings looked like they belonged to a different time, decades in the past.

"Bergbraukel Beer Hall," he thought. Yes, that's where he had just been. But something was off.

"Cyric, what is it? We need to act!" said someone nearby, irritated.

Cyric? Is someone calling him Cyric? Wang Weiguo turned and saw the man next to him. A tall man with a strong nose, long face, and short hair — someone familiar.

Wang Weiguo's attention was drawn to another man moving forward impatiently. Thin, with odd hair parted severely to one side, he had a traitorous look about him. And below his nose, a small, unmistakable mustache.

Under the dim lights, the man's gaze was intense, full of melancholy, fanaticism, and an unshakable confidence, as if saying, "Believe in me! I will save this world!"

Wait a minute. Is this some sort of role-play? Is someone pretending to be Hitler? Isn't anyone afraid of getting beaten up for this?

Wang Weiguo soon realized that the man beside him was a young Hermann Göring! Not yet the bloated figure history would come to know.

What was going on? Did he... travel through time?

He remembered the Blood Medal — number 349 — awarded to a young man named Cyric, loyal to Hitler.

Cyric! A flood of memories overwhelmed Wang Weiguo. He now remembered that Cyric was a deputy commander in Munich's 19th Infantry Battalion and a member of the National Socialist German Workers' Party. Today was November 8, 1923, and Cyric was part of an important operation.

The man beside him? That really was Göring. And the mustached figure leading the way was none other than Adolf Hitler himself.

Wang Weiguo — or rather, Cyric — suddenly realized he had crossed over into history.

As these thoughts raced through his mind, a voice interrupted from within:

"Host, the War Summoning System has been detected and is now integrating."

"The fusion is in progress, please wait…"

"The War Summoning System has been integrated."

The Blood Medal was still there, and the system's voice made it clear that he hadn't crossed over empty-handed. Something had connected him to this time and place.

He thought back to his fascination with World War II history, especially Germany's defeat, which had always pained him. Perhaps fate had led him to the Blood Medal, which had now brought him back in time.

And now, he had a system — a powerful system that could help him rise to power.

Hitler, already excited, couldn't wait any longer. He led the group, including Göring and the stormtroopers, toward the entrance of the beer hall.

Inside, the hall was filled with Bavaria's elite: politicians, socialites, and other prominent figures. The governor of Bavaria, Gustav von Kahr, was speaking on stage.

"Boom!" Hitler, still spry, leaped onto a chair. Everyone turned to look at him, and silence filled the hall.

He pulled out a pistol, aimed at the ceiling, and fired.

"The national revolution has begun!" Hitler shouted confidently.