She changed Europe

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Revolving doors remain very common in American politics, but elected politicians and civil servants are ultimately different.

"This is beyond the scope of our discussion today. In fact, I won't even think about such a meaningless question. If you insist on asking for my opinion, I can only say that human society needs this level of leniency. Those at the top of the pyramid need such a green channel to influence national policy. As long as you rich people still own 99% of the wealth in society, there will always be such a dirty channel in the organization of society. So instead of discussing this issue, how about we distribute the Rockefeller family's wealth equally among the people on the street? That way, human society would take a giant step forward toward utopia."

Rockefeller laughed heartily.

"Grant, I've always felt that saying those words is what makes you so charismatic!"

Trieste, Austria, a tavern.

"Hey, let me tell you, Her Majesty the Queen was shot. My relative at the nearby military base saw it with his own eyes, and she's still unconscious."

As soon as a man dressed as a dockworker finished speaking, everyone sitting around the dirty little bar turned to look at him.

"Is it a fake group/flirting with two people?" Someone immediately expressed doubt, "The newspaper didn't mention it today."

"They'll tell you tomorrow!" the first person said mysteriously. "Didn't you see how many more spies have suddenly appeared on the streets, arresting people everywhere? I heard that His Majesty is seriously injured and still in danger. What will our country do without His Majesty's leadership?"

"Nonsense." The person who had just expressed doubt still didn't believe it. "Her Majesty the Queen is in Trieste? If she were here, there would be all over the news, but there haven't been any reports of that lately. As for the spies on the street, that's because there was an explosion on the coast last night, and a secret weapon secretly manufactured by the military was leaked. We could see the white fog of poison from afar!"

The mysterious person who initially came to break the news was displeased: "You don't know anything, how could it be false when my relative saw it with his own eyes?"

"I saw it with my own eyes. The local police were all mobilized. It was quite a commotion!"

"You're talking nonsense, I'm your darling..."

Just as the two were about to start fighting, the only person occupying a table in a corner far from the bar suddenly said, "His Majesty will not die."

Now, not only the people at the bar, but all the patrons in the pub turned to look at the corner.

Someone immediately recognized the speaker: "Isn't this Martin from Port Authority III? Dad, you look a bit sleep-deprived."

PS1: Just posting some random stuff.

Chapter 586 The Turkish Symphony of the Vienna Rose: Capter 83 Armored Unit Departs (Seeking Votes)

“Of course, after all, we were busy all night.” The dockworker, known as Old Man, picked up the large beer glass on the table—the kind only real men would use—and took a big gulp of beer. “I saw it all last night, and the kids in my team saw it too. We were the closest! Let me tell you…”

At this moment, the father, who was in his fifties, suddenly realized what was happening. He raised his hand, froze in mid-air for a few seconds, and then waved it: "I can't tell you! That would be against the rules. I swore an oath to the imperial flag, and I remember it!"

As he spoke, the old man pressed his clenched fist against his left chest: "I am willing to join the Imperial Workers' Pickets, implement the organization's program, carry out the organization's resolutions, abide by the organization's discipline, and keep the organization's secrets!"

It's not that a monarchy can't have a picket line. In fact, political systems are black and white; the best system is the one that best suits the country.

After reciting, the slightly drunk father muttered under his breath, "My damn son actually smashed my radio and wouldn't let me listen to the broadcast! I've wasted all those years raising him!" The accumulation of radio technology had already been completed in the first half of this century, and now with the support of the Gisela policy, the popularization and invention efficiency would only get faster and faster.

Technological advancements are meant to benefit humanity, and radios are no longer an unattainable luxury for the working class of the empire.

"Dad, can you stop keeping us in suspense?" someone urged. "If you don't want us to tell you, at least give us a hint so we can guess. It's not your fault if we guess right, is it?"

"Hmph, you'd never guess. You wouldn't believe it unless you saw it with your own eyes. Anyway," the old man picked up his glass again and took a big gulp of wine, "I'm telling you, Her Majesty the Empress is a magic user. Rather than saying Her Majesty was injured by a bullet, it's more likely that the problem was caused by something else. So you don't need to worry about Her Highness. Austria will still be on the right path."

After saying that, Dad raised his glass, gulped down the rest of the wine, and then let out a blissful "Ah," temporarily immersing himself in the effects of the alcohol.

The others looked at each other in bewilderment.

I want to say something but don't know how to start. The other person says a lot, but it's as if they haven't said anything at all...

Marmara Herrelixi, Türkiye.

Michel ordered the "water tanks," or tanks, to start, and the internal combustion engines began to warm up. The tanks of Michel's detachment, neatly lined up on the road, roared to life, exhaust fumes billowing from their exhaust pipes.

Modern tanks, thanks to Gisela's hasty approach, are already at the level of the late World War I, with various models emerging like mushrooms after rain. However, the biggest problem with these weapons is not protection, but the heart of their power – the engine.

At this moment, the infantry attached to Michel's detachment came into Michel's view. The captain at the front came to Michel's tank and saluted him, who was half-exposed on the turret, saying: "Hawk, First Infantry Company of the International Volunteer Force."

“Battlefield Engineers Advance Detachment, Michel.” Michel returned Hawke’s salute. “Captain, get your lads up here quickly.”

“They’re already doing it.” Hawke gestured behind him, and Michelle turned around to see the infantrymen boarding the tank.

As he turned around, Hawke and his four infantrymen climbed into Michel's vehicle. The captain himself leaned against the turret, took out a cigarette from his pocket, and offered it to Michel.

"No need, we gave out cigarettes this morning too."

As soon as Michelle finished speaking, Hawke said, "Don't do that, it's just a courtesy, Captain. Even if the cigarettes you're given are dozens of times better than ours, you should still smoke this one."

“Uh, okay, you’re right.” Michelle smiled apologetically, then took the cigarette and put it in her mouth. Hawke took out a match, lit it, and lit it for Michelle. Just as he was about to light his own, the match went out. Hawke cursed and tried to light a second match, but couldn’t get it to light. At this moment, Michelle took out a lighter, flicked it, and brought it to Hawke.

"Thank you. As expected, you have vehicles to ride in. The things you use are different from those of us two-legged animal infantrymen."

As they were talking, a young girl in military uniform appeared on a makeshift platform in the distance. Her long silver hair danced in the wind from the Sea of ​​Marmara and shimmered in the sunlight.

Hawke picked up his binoculars and pointed them at the girl on the platform.

After a moment, he exclaimed, "She is so beautiful, no wonder she is a Demon Power Master."

“That’s Miss Jeanne, who’s in charge of military and security. You should see her often when the troops are training near the Hofburg and Schönbrunn Palace.” Michel looked at Hawke with some surprise. “Aren’t you a core member of the St. Stephen’s Regiment?”

The core members of the Empress's former personal guard have been transferred to the newly formed Imperial Royal Army. Commanders of such elite units are among the elite of the elite.

“I used to be in the Imperial Defense Force, and I volunteered for this war.” Captain Hawke shrugged. “So the Queen’s troops have these perks, huh? No wonder all those young bastards are scrambling to get into your unit.”

Michelle laughed, and at that moment the girl on the temporary platform began to speak, but the content of her speech was so formulaic that it disappointed Michelle somewhat.

Hawke also said, "It's all just bureaucratic rhetoric. I thought the Demon Master's instructions would be different from the General's."

"Although Miss Jeanne is French, she is more like one of us Germans. She is rather serious. If it were another magic user giving a speech, it would be very interesting. However, I still prefer Her Majesty the Empress to give the pre-battle pep talk." To be honest, there are many soldiers in the army who admire the Empress. Although Her Majesty the Empress is married, it does not hinder their fanatical worship and loyalty to her.

Before the words were even finished, a signal flare shot into the sky.

Michelle immediately picked up the microphone and ordered the entire team: "Let's go! Everyone follow me closely, move forward!"

After hanging up the microphone, he used the intercom to order his driver: "Start, Parker."

With the gearbox clutch engaged, the power from the vehicle's engine is transmitted through gears to the drive wheels of the tracks, which in turn drive the tracks and propel the vehicle forward.

As they began to move forward, a large amount of sand and dust was kicked up. Hawke looked at the billowing yellow sand behind the moving tank and said with a hint of schadenfreude, "The guys in the back are in for a rough time!"

“It’s normal to get covered in dust after a long march.” Michelle glanced at Hawke. “The armored soldiers are used to it. It’s not a big deal for them; they can just wash their clothes and take a shower. But cleaning the mud and sand off the vehicles is a real pain. However, they have to clean it to ensure the vehicles’ performance. It always leaves them exhausted.”

“It’s kind of like how we feel when we clean our rifles. We always find wiping and oiling them a real hassle, but we have to do it.” Hawke said, patting the turret’s armor plate. “How thick is this thing?”

PS1: Gisela's tanks directly fall between the levels of World War I and World War II, skipping a lot of trial and error and getting it right from the start.

Chapter 587 The Turkish Symphony of the Vienna Rose: Capter 84 The Prelude to the Offensive (Seeking votes at the beginning of the month)

Michelle shrugged: "Ordinary bullets definitely can't penetrate it, and even artillery can't, but we've heard that Russian magic armored vehicles like to carry big guns with 107mm or even 122mm guns, so that's probably not going to work."

"Don't compare yourself to the Magic Warriors. They are the cream of the crop. Do you really think you can win against the Magic Warriors in Magic Armor?" Compared to the cost of building and training Magic Warriors and Magic Armor, armored units are already very cheap heavy mobile forces.

"In order to perform better on the battlefield, we have undergone more than a year of training."

Michelle's words made Hawke from the National Defense Force burst into laughter, and Hawke's men also smiled. Hawke patted Michelle on the shoulder and said, "We've been training for this for years, and it's been pretty useless. Your explosive mines and new Iron Fist rockets are said to be somewhat effective against magic users, but in actual combat, probably no one would actively approach and attack a magic armor after seeing it."

That was something you only used to fight when a mage came knocking and you couldn't escape, so that at least you could comfort yourself before you died by saying, "I fought back."

Michelle glanced at Hawke but made no further comment.

Just then, the roar of engines filled the sky. Everyone looked up and saw a large formation of fighter jets appearing in the sky, their silver-gray wings gleaming in the sunlight. The sight made Hawke, who was seeing such a large air force for the first time, take off his hat, wave it in the air, and shout, "Brothers in the sky, blow them up! Charge!"

Waves of aircraft flew overhead, numbering around a hundred. After the roar subsided, Hawke tapped his hat against the turret armor plate and put it back on.

"I heard the Air Force is doing quite well in Istanbul to the east."

Michelle nodded.

"Hopefully they can perform the same way this time, which would make things much easier for us."

“Actually, they won’t clear our way forward.” Michelle glanced at the surprised Hawke. “Didn’t the infantry get the message? These planes are going to bomb the Russian lines in our feint direction. We have to break through the Russian lines at Chaurlu on our own.”

"Jorlu!" Hawke exclaimed, "This is different from the battle briefing I received! Our orders were to attack Qatar!"

"I think the command figured that since you're going to be traveling in tanks anyway, they might as well not tell you the real destination. I can understand doing this for the sake of secrecy."

"Damn it," Hawke cursed, looking somewhat displeased.

Michelle glanced at him and said, "I think the headquarters has concealed the attack target from all the infantry, and it's not targeting you alone."

“I know, damn it, I know. I’m upset because my class is being discriminated against. We are the queens of the battlefield, you know, Queen! Even those noble magic users have to rely on us so they won’t be caught off guard when they’re exhausted!”

Michelle shrugged and said nothing more.

After a brief silence, Hawke couldn't hold back any longer and asked, "By the way, why are there only so many people allowed in one car?"

"Because many cars break down on the road, we need to reserve space for the people in those cars."

"I never imagined that even the most advanced technology in Germany would be powerless at times." He was originally quite confident in the reputation of German industrial products.

“Believe me, if this were a British or American product, it would break down even more,” Michelle said dismissively.

Hawke pursed his lips, and after a moment he asked again, "When will we fire the first shot?"

"Soon, a 30-kilometer cross-country run without resistance will not be difficult for the armored troops. First, we need to rendezvous with the Turkish magic warriors. They will help us annihilate the enemy magic warriors of Qorlu. While they are preoccupied, we will take out the enemy's regular troops."

"I like simple and clear plans."

—The Russian side

Vasily stood at his post.

"Damn it, it's fucking hot! Back home, it's so cold that your breath freezes into snowflakes right in the air!" Anthony cursed. "It's fucking hot, this godforsaken place."

"Come on, Anthony," Vasily shoved his comrade. "Your damn hometown is in Kuban! I'm from Murmansk, and I haven't even complained about the heat yet. Besides, if it's hot, why are you wearing so much?"

“It’s because you’re wearing too many clothes that you feel hot. This damn military overcoat isn’t for this kind of place!” Anthony seemed tired of the topic as he spoke. He looked at the magic armor standing not far away and nudged Vasily. “Look at our magic warrior, sleeping so soundly.”

“She had only been withdrawn from the Istanbul front a few days ago, and at that time they were exhausted and needed a lot of sleep,” Vasily said.

Anthony glanced at Vasily, giving him a "you're too naive" look: "Come on, she and the Captain were having a hot-button fight last night. Misha, who was on night duty, saw it. It was clearly from the Captain's huge thing, you know, Captain..."

In the blink of an eye, something struck the arm of the magic armor that Vasily and his companion were discussing. The arm disintegrated into parts, which swept towards the houses behind the armor like shotgun pellets, instantly collapsing half of the already flimsy Turkish slums. The powerful impact caused the magic armor to lose its balance and fall backward, but then the fall abruptly stopped. It seemed that the magic warrior had awakened at the crucial moment.

Only then did the sound of cannon fire come from afar.

"Damn it!" Anthony dropped to the ground, one hand on the brim of his hat, shouting in panic, "What happened? What's going on?"

Vasily, who was also lying on the ground, was slightly calmer than Antony; he was trying to find the enemy's firing position.

He succeeded.

He saw flashes of light appear one after another in the distance.

Shells flew in one after another, landing continuously near the armor of that magic user.

However, the Magister used the remaining arm of his Magister Armor to protect his body, and the Magister Armor's protective shield operated at full power. The shield's defensive capabilities allowed the Magister Armor to withstand another cannon shot, but the powerful impact still sent the armor flying backward.

It's noticeable that the magic shield's defense has weakened.

Vasily noticed blood flowing from the severed arm of the magic armor. The magic warrior was injured!

At this moment, the magic armor fell backward.

Vasily got up and ran toward the armor. Helping an injured mage escape from the armor was an infantryman's duty at a time like this—that was what his training had taught him.

But at that moment, a 75mm high-explosive shell landed not far from him, and the shockwave lifted him up, tossing him into the air like a toy.

PS1: Ra!

Chapter 588 The Turkish Symphony of the Vienna Rose: Capter 85 The Water Tank's First Victory (Seeking Votes)

"First shot, hit!" Michel patted the top armor of the turret and praised his gunners. "Well done, lads! Load the next high-explosive shell, quick!"

With the support of radio, the tanks lined up beside him were firing in turn, and through his binoculars, he could see the magical armor guarding the outskirts of the distant town falling backward after being hit repeatedly.

"Reload high-explosive shells a second time to cover the Turkish girl's assault," Michel ordered over the radio—in fact, he had given the same order when assigning tasks before the battle began.

As Michel's vehicle fired its second shot, Turkish magic armored vehicles passed through the convoy and charged toward the distant town.

The tank convoy continued firing, using direct fire to cover the attack of the magic-armored vehicles.

Suddenly, a report came over the radio from vehicle number four: "Two magical armors have appeared at the westernmost end of town."

"Second squad, load the magnetic rounds! First squad, continue suppressive fire with high-explosive rounds!"

The magnetic bullets were new, practical ammunition recently issued to Michel's squad before the operation. They were said to use a magnetic induction fuse, detonating near the magic armor of magic users and launching small, needle-like projectiles in the surrounding area. They couldn't destroy the magic armor's shields, but they could put immense mental pressure on the magic users.

Shortly after Michel gave the order, the tank convoy began firing again.

A series of explosions and smoke immediately rose around the two Russian magical armored vehicles seen through the telescope, but Michel did not see any signs of magnetic shrapnel explosions.

"Has anyone seen the magnetic shrapnel explode?" he immediately asked his squad leaders over the radio. "All I see here are the explosion clouds of high-explosive bombs."

Michelle initially thought she hadn't seen it because her vision was blocked by the smoke and dust from the explosion, but the response from her earpiece quickly revealed that the thing hadn't actually exploded.

"Damn it! Magnetic fuses are unreliable, the whole team, continue bombarding with high-explosive shells!"

"Turkish magic users have made contact with enemy magic users!" someone shouted in a loud voice.

In fact, Michelle didn't need to report it; she had already seen it through her binoculars. The Turkish magician girls had rushed to within tens of meters of the Russian troops and started firing at them with their weapons.