As Silby spoke, Hoffa's face gradually paled. He didn't know Franco at all, nor did he know anything about Spanish history.
But Hoffa didn't expect that the place he was in was actually an Axis country.
And the most famous Great Devil in history, Adolf Hitler, was probably less than one kilometer away from him.
If he was "lucky", he might be able to bump into him on the street.
On the streets of Spain, Hoffa swallowed his saliva and looked at the girls holding fans coming and going around him. For a moment, he felt a chill on his body.
This was too real.
Gurgle.
Gurgle.
However, the acid in his stomach brought Hoffa back to reality. He hadn't eaten for more than thirty hours. Whether it was the Axis or the Alliance, he had to eat.
Should I go invisible and steal some food? Hoffa thought.
But the next second, he rejected the idea.
He didn't want to steal food.
He looked down at Silby. Silby said, "That's the truth. If you still speak English, I'm afraid we'll be beaten to death before we starve to death."
"Can't you speak Spanish? Your family? "
"I can't, I'm just passing by Spain on my way home."
"Can Ossivia speak it?" Hoffa said unhappily.
"Hey, I'm the one who hired you. Besides, it's still unknown whether she can speak Spanish or not. If she can't, I'm afraid she'll run into a wall outside. "
Just as he and Silby had a few simple exchanges, the people around them looked at him with vigilance and dissatisfaction. Moreover, within the range of his mental force field, he also sensed the traces of one or two adult wizards.
Hoffa sighed, closed his mouth, and pushed Silby's wheelchair on the streets of Spain.
Silby was right. The country had just ended its civil war with the help of the Nazis.
On the buildings on both sides of the city, there were many new posters.
The Fuehrer with a mustache was smiling like a flower on the poster, holding the hand of another man. Needless to say, that man must be Franco.
Not only that, from time to time, soldiers drove by in old green jeeps with red swastikas printed on them, which were obviously provided by the German side.
As the jeep drove off, a group of young men waved excitedly at them.
Obviously, in this era, the Communist Party was just an ordinary political party. These people had no idea what kind of bloodshed and terror they would bring to the planet in the future.
Hoffa watched the row of German jeeps leave.
Under the influence of hunger, his thoughts began to become abnormally active. An inexplicable idea floated into his mind.
As a matter of fact, although he did not speak German, he was quite familiar with German wizards. Very familiar.
If Hoffa were to describe Schmidt Rutterov, he would probably be able to recognize him even if he turned into ashes.
Not to mention the way he was dressed. Hoffa remembered how many buttons there were on his shirt.
Although it was a wizard's uniform, it was not much different from what the German officers on the street were wearing. The only difference was that the hats were different.
Looking at the delicious food in the window, his stomach churned, and the sudden idea grew like a virus.
After finding a corner where there was no one around, Hoffa pushed Silby into an alley behind a clothing store. In the alley, he tapped himself with his magic wand.
Under the effect of the Polymorph spell, his clothes turned into the same standard robe as Schmidt Rutterov. It was black and tight, with a sleeve on the side.
Hoffa looked at the clothing store's window and nodded with satisfaction. Then, he tapped Silby's body, and the blanket on Silby's body turned into a standard German wizard robe.
Not only that, he also tapped the wheelchair and drew a swastika on it.
Silby was shocked. He looked at Hoffa and said, "Wizards are really convenient."
Hoffa looked at himself in the closet next door. After thinking about it carefully, he felt that he was still a little too young. So, he took a tissue from Silby's wheelchair and turned it into a small square piece of black cloth. He stuck it on his upper lip.
It looked a little funny, and Silby laughed so hard that he was convulsing.
Just then, a few soldiers with guns walked by on the street, greeting them. Hoffa quickly patted Silby to shut him up.
The magic wand turned into a military cap in Hoffa's hand.
Hoffa put the cap on his head and lowered his head, the brim of the cap covering most of his face.
Silby in the wheelchair kept quiet, but his face was red.
When Hoffa walked out of the alley, he turned into a short military officer. When the people around him saw him, they were all in awe.
After the transformation, Hoffa walked into a Spanish restaurant. This restaurant also had an anti-British sign, and looked a little more upscale than the previous one.
But this time, before Hoffa could reach the door, a waiter saw the two people outside.
His face changed, and he instantly trotted over, opened the door, and raised his hand.
“heil
hitler！！”
Huo Fa was taken aback, but he had watched movies before. Then he quickly raised his right hand out of habit, like a parrot.
“heil
hitler。”
This time, it was the waiter's turn to be stunned. The waiter looked at his hand in puzzlement, as if he was wondering about something, but then he put down his doubts and welcomed Hoffa into the restaurant with a smile.
This restaurant was much more upscale than the fast food restaurant, although the decoration outside was ordinary. But the inside was resplendent, and there was a transparent crystal chandelier hanging from the top.
As soon as he entered, half of the young people here stood up and enthusiastically raised their hands to Hoffa.
Hitler's voice was endless.
Hoffa was a little embarrassed. He also raised his right hand and returned the greetings one by one. But every time he returned a greeting, someone looked at him with a puzzled expression.
In the wheelchair, Silby was going crazy. His lips squirmed as he reminded Hoffa, "Left hand, left hand!"
He spoke so softly that Hoffa didn't hear him, and his right hand was still outstretched.
The waiter respectfully pulled out a chair, bent over to let Hoffa sit down, and presented the menu with both hands.
Looking at the menu, Hoffa's stomach growled even louder.
But he learned his lesson this time. He didn't say anything at all. Instead, he reservedly stuck out his chest and pretended to point at the menu with his hand, ordering all the dishes with the highest price tags.
The waiter smiled like a blooming flower, and his hand kept swiping down notes.
After Hoffa finished ordering and the waiter left, Silby's eyes widened and he growled, "Are you European or not?"
Hoffa: "Ah, what?"
"Left hand, you just used the ancient Roman military salute, idiot! If you meet a real German officer on the street, you'll be shot! "
"Left hand."
Hoffa looked at his hand, and his face paled a little.
It turned out that he had been raising his right hand all this while. No wonder those people were looking at him strangely.
Just as he was about to speak, the waiter came back. Not only did he come back, but he also brought back a chef with him with an eager smile.
The chef's face was red, and he nodded and bowed to the side for a long time.
But Hoffa didn't understand a single word. He lowered the brim of his hat and tapped his fingers on the table, looking impatient.
So the chef awkwardly turned to Silby.
In terms of pretending to be impatient, the French teenager was much more skilled than Hoffa. He leaned his head to the side and frowned slightly, but his whole person exuded the aura of a superior. He looked like he didn't want to talk to a servant like him.
The chef immediately stopped talking. He took a bottle of wine from a waitress, respectfully opened it for the two of them, and then left.
He was here to deliver the wine.
Hoffa's expression was cold, but he couldn't help but laugh in his heart as he looked at the respectful appearance of these people. He reckoned that even if he ate a free meal, no one would dare to say anything.
Soon, the waiter came back and forth.
The dishes were presented one by one.
Paella that was bright red and green in color, a whole leg of lamb that was crispy and tender on the inside, sour and spicy sardines in vinegar, sticky and bubbling Madrid broth, thin slices of Iberian ham, Galician octopus slices cooked in a copper pot, and cold Spanish soup with strawberries and tomatoes in a small transparent cup.
If it wasn't for his identity as a "German officer", the hungry Hoffa would probably turn his magic wand into chopsticks and rush to eat.
But because of his identity, Hoffa picked up the knife and fork with trembling hands, but he quickly put it into his mouth. After starving for a whole night, Hoffa felt like he was in heaven at this moment.
On the other side of the table, Silby kept coughing and squeezed out a voice from between his teeth.
"Hurry up and feed me, don't eat by yourself!!"
Because of his identity as the employer, Hoffa put the food into his mouth with his left hand, and put the food into Silby's mouth with his right hand.
The two cooperated well.
Soon, more than half of the food on the table was gone.
However, just as Hoffa stuffed a whole piece of shrimp meat into Silby's mouth, he suddenly cried out and his head kept shaking.
Hoffa thought he was choking, so just as he handed him the glass of water next to him, he suddenly shook his head and stared behind Hoffa.
Hoffa puffed up his cheeks and asked, "What's wrong?"
Silby: "Behind, behind."
Hoffa turned his head and his eyes quickly widened.
Squeak squeak squeak!!
Followed by a few irritated screeches of tires.
A black, old-fashioned sedan stopped in front of the restaurant, followed by three green jeeps full of soldiers.
The car stopped and the door opened.
Three tall men in black military uniforms, black high-top boots, two silver stripes on their chests, and white symbols on their arms pushed open the glass door and walked in with their heads held high.
Clatter!
The fork in his hand fell onto the plate, and Hoffa felt a little dizzy.
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