God's blessing on this isekai'd Nazi! (Konosuba x Nazi Male reader)

Prologue

May 27, 1938

"Y/N, L/N family-rich, influential, Jewish, family," the officer read out to the standing boy, his voice was lost less than five feet away-absorbed into the white noise of the background. Y/N caught a quick glimpse at the man batting is eye in disgust upon mentioning the word "Jewish". He held his breath lightly, hand grasping a little tighter on his small suitcase, in face of the heavy anticipation. His father had already assured him that there would be no difficulties, or discrimination, in joining the Vereinigung-after all, he was among his own kind.

The officer seemed rather conflicted with the profile given to him, as demonstrated by him lightly touching his hat. Without warning, he leaned towards another officer beside him whispering, presumably about Y/N administration.

The other officer listened silently, so silent and still that it seemed like he didn't even have a beating heart. The first officer, after what felt like a timeless eternity, leaned away to signal the end of his delivery. Taking the sheet handed to him, the second officer examined what was written with deadly precision, occasionally resting his hand against his forehead to signal thoughts and arguments racing through his brain.

"Alright," came a reply, as soft as it was sweet. "Hans, lead the boy..."

"Right away, Zellenleiter," replied the blonde man known as Hans. "Come!" he called out, upon leaving the counter. "You are not to delay us!"

"Right away, s-sir," Y/N replied briskly, his response gone unheard as he tried to swim through the wave of people to catch up with the tall officer. Earlier, his father had advised him not to show any sort of weakness, be it nervousness or exhaustion. "We're already stretching their patience by being Jews. Hence, try not to irritate them more that you inevitably have to, son."

Upon having his father's words run rattle at the back of his head caused him to suffer a sudden jab of guilt upon his own failure...but that was pale to his apparent success in being successfully accepted into the association.

"Get in," the officer commanded, opening the door to his automobile to enter himself. The engine roared alive to signify its activation, a sound that had become so common in the modern world. Trying to be as quick as he could, Y/N opened the door to let himself in, ending up in the passenger seat next to the officer. His luggage resting on his lap.

The drive began in silence, as the sleek dark shape that the officer drove sped past regular traffic with little difficulties. Not that there were many, in fact, "traffic jams" as they were referred to, seemed to have completely vanished since more job-wellsprings were established outside of Berlin. The pathways at the side of the roads were still bustling with older people, however, usually dressed in black coats and carrying heavy looking suitcases-signs of employment. With no shortage, bicycles were being ridden by much younger looking individuals, all were dressed in light brown uniforms adorned only with a red arm band, decorated with a white circle which held the newly-minted Swastika. The sight had become more common since the Führer declared Germany's rearmament-program in spite of the Treaty of Versailles. He, like any other civilian or political leader at the time, thought this as an excellent maneuver to pump up the failing economy, alongside numerous other military-based economical policies, it very much did.

Y/N watched as familiar buildings, usually grey in colour, speed by before the city-view was replaced with one more off greenery and nature. He wondered where they were going. Eventually, perhaps coaxed by duty or simply a method to stay awake, the officer decided to strike conversation with him. "L/N family, right?"

"Y-Yes, sir," he replied, unprepared for the question.

The officer sighed. "You've had a much brighter future, had you been born German."