The local rebels had been trained as well as they possibly could be and were given sufficient arms and munitions to storm the capital.

Warfare in former colonial regions was much simpler than in Bruno’s past life. There were no massive stockpiles of automatic weapons and shaped charges handed out en masse by ideological governments fighting proxy wars against one another for resources.

Nor were there vast colonial stockpiles of advanced weaponry left behind. Most colonies had gone the way of the dodo before anything but heavy machine guns and bolt action rifles were standardized across modern nations.

Bruno had effectively dismantled the capability of colonial chaos, as they lacked the infrastructure and education to produce any weaponry of value on their own. Meaning every bullet fired and rifle wielded was either a relic of a bygone age or a refurbished piece of machinery with an end date and a supply line that could be effectively cut off at any given time by Berlin.

This also meant that without armored vehicles, mechanical transportation, and automatic weapons, most post-colonial governments could be overrun by the simple addition of water cooled machine guns and semi-automatic rifles with little training or resupply.

And this was the silent strategy Ernst Rohm, and his successor Joachim Peiper had wielded across Africa and Asia to end uncooperative regimes that had forgotten who had forged their crown.

It was not the least bit effective against a modern army, but was more than enough to take down the techno-tribalism that ruled over many of these former colonies outside their main cities, which were vestiges of direct European rule.

Nairobi fell within hours, and blood flowed through the streets. Not a single German soldier was present to witness it, nor mercenaries flying the banner of the Wolf.

Yet their involvement in the massacre was witnessed by the fingerprints on every weapon, and casing used.

Of course, few had the time or care to examine them with a microscope, as the world’s attention was drifted to something seemingly far more significant.

Civilization as a whole was so focused on the return of the world’s first extraterrestrial travelers who had ventured to another celestial body that they either didn’t notice, or didn’t consider it of any significance when the attack on the capitol of Kenya was launched.

How could a former colonial territory under shadow management of a European mercenary cartel possibly be more relevant to Germany declaring the moon its own personal fief?

Bruno, of course saw the news in the paper, the pictures of the

"new warlord" and instantly knew that the plan was a success.

He needed no formal diplomatic meeting. The Devil’s Adjutant could manage the negotiations on his behalf.

In fact, everything was already likely settled behind the scenes before the first shot was even fired.

Erwin saw his father smirking at the paper and knew something had happened behind the scenes. He frowned, placing his fork down as his wife looked over at the seriousness on expression and sighed, cursing in Russian, as she shook her head.

Bruno’s eyes darted over to the woman, and not his son, despite Erwin being the first to actually address him.

"Father.... I know I shouldn’t ask, but can I assume your sudden bout of joy is in regard to the safe return of our Cosmic Travelers, and not that nasty bit of business in Nairobi?"

Bruno suddenly understood where the remark Alya had cursed beneath her breath was intended, it wasn’t towards him, it was towards her husband for daring to provoke a conversation she didn’t want to have.

He simply smiled and folded the paper, placing it beneath his hand as he moved towards his fork, dismissing the notion entirely.

"Of course, what else could possibly make me so happy but the safe return of our brave heroes?"

Erwin knew he was lying, Alya knew he was lying, everyone at the table including Bruno himself knew he was lying. But nobody wanted to call the Patriarch of their Royal House on his lies.

And nobody wanted to know exactly what he planned to do in Kenya that required such a bloodbath. And honestly? They didn’t really care.

There were far more important matters closer to home to focus on than the violence and suffering of people a world away who they would never see or meet in their lives.

And so Erwin sighed and nodded his head. Agreeing to let his father’s machinations go, as always with Bruno, whatever dirty business he was doing behind the scenes, it was seldom for anything but the betterment of the Reich and the future of their family.

Heidi was perhaps the only person who knew of Bruno’s plans and refused to let him get away with it, not out of some moral obligation, but because she too enjoyed some schadenfreude now and then.

"Oh, so you’re not happy about securing the Kaiser-Wilhelm Hochland Autonomous Zone, which you have spent so much time and effort on? Didn’t you just go on a trip to Kenya to meet with Kommandant Peiper? I thought you would be pleased that things went as planned."

Alya sighed, Erwin practically desired to smash his face into his food plate. Bruno didn’t move in the slightest ,and Heidi rested her delicately sculpted chin on the palm of her hand, staring at Bruno with a grin that proved she was nothing but proud of herself for stirring the pot.

Bruno simply looked at her with a knowing glance, not angry, not frustrated, perhaps slightly amused if anything. And then, expressed in a monotone tone, a question that completely deflated her game.

"Can’t I be happy about both?"

He then went back to his meal, not even deigning her attempt to stir up trouble at the breakfast table with another glance. And Heidi, despite being in her late-sixties, simply pouted as if she were still the girl that Bruno grew up alongside all those decades ago when they were both still young.