Chapter 205: The Children of Kazarlia

Chapter 205: The Children of Kazarlia

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On August 8th, at 08:30, at Shepetovka, the headquarters of the 151st Provisional Infantry Division.

Wang Zhong was originally planning to head out when he passed by Nelly packing up the dining table, possessed by some devilish impulse, he stopped and scooped up a dollop of sour cream with his finger and popped it into his mouth.

Nelly: “What are you doing? You’re acting like a little kid! Can’t you use a spoon?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll use a spoon.”

Wang Zhong took the spoon Nelly handed him and scooped up a heaping spoonful of sour cream into his mouth.

Sour cream is such a strange thing, at first, it seems so odd to eat, and even odder to put into soup. But after you’ve tried it once, you can’t help but go for it again, the second time thinking, “It’s so strange, I need to savor it more.”

And then, you just can’t stop, you need to have some with everything.

Especially here at Ante’s, where meals are those calorically dense things with lots of fat, you can’t do without sour cream to cut through the greasiness.

It’s like eating pig trotters with noodles, after a bite of the big trotter, you need some sour pickles to refresh the palate.

I feel like I’m going to turn into the shape of sour cream.

After finishing, Wang Zhong handed the spoon back to Nelly, with a reminder: “The division’s train leaves at half-past ten, watch the time and don’t be late. You are my clerk.”

“Mhm.” After Nelly spoke, she grabbed Wang Zhong who was about to leave. “Wait, you haven’t wiped the hand you used to scrape the sour cream, give it here!”

Nelly then carefully wiped Wang Zhong’s hand clean with a napkin before letting him go.

Wang Zhong: “You’re almost like my mom.”

Nelly, incensed, said: “I am not that old!”

That’s what she takes offense to!

Wang Zhong turned and left the room.

No sooner had he descended the stairs than he saw a group of people wearing Labor Camp armbands streaming into the division headquarters’ yard.

The newly assembled headquarters guard platoon was blocking them, Grigori stood alertly at the door of the building where Wang Zhong stayed, cradling a submachine gun.

The workers were fervent:

“Let us see the General!”

“Yes, let us see the General!”

Wang Zhong: “What do you want with me?”

The restless crowd paused, their gaze turning to him en masse.

“It’s the General!”

“That’s not right, isn’t the General supposed to be six meters tall?”

What kind of genetic specimen would that be?

Wang Zhong: “I apologize for not being six meters tall and for disappointing you all. I’m just an ordinary person, but I’ve also killed two Prussian generals!”

The crowd grew agitated again, speculating about how the remaining five Prussian generals died.

Wang Zhong couldn’t stand it anymore; at this rate, he was going to become Saint Andrew’s Champion Warrior. He interrupted their discussions: “What do you want? Did you just come to see what I look like?”

The workers calmed down, and all eyes shifted in unison to an old worker.

The old man stepped forward and said, “We are workers from the Shepetovka Textile Factory, we heard that your flag was torn up in the last battle, so we worked overnight to make a new one!

“Radilov, bring it here!”

After gazing at his reflection for a few seconds, he suddenly slapped his thigh, “Ah, I forgot my saber! After the civil war ended, the troops did away with sabers, so I forgot! Mikhail! Where is my saber?”

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Argesukov, Krugen Street, No. 43.

Mrs. Alexeyevna put a little pot of sour cream on the small tray in front of the wounded man, “Help yourself if you want to eat.”

The wounded man said, “Old mother, stop bothering with us, the Prussians will kill you too if they find out you’re hiding us!”

The old lady pushed up her glasses, glanced around the cellar and smiled faintly at the dozen or so seriously injured men hiding there, “Don’t worry. They don’t need a reason to kill an old woman like me. If one day I don’t come down, you open the door over there.”

The old lady pointed to the end of the cellar, “The pickled cabbage casks are already moved aside, even you should be able to open it easily.

“It’s a tunnel prepared by the locals when they resisted Emperor Poli, there’s also a large community of beggars underneath, and the Prussians couldn’t get rid of them all.

“Just say you’re guests of Mrs. Alexeyevna, they’ll help you.”

The wounded men looked at each other while the old lady walked up the cellar stairs and left.

Mrs. Alexeyevna came up to the surface and carefully camouflaged the entrance to the cellar before picking up the crutches and slowly moving towards the apartment door.

She walked out the door and stood on the desolate street of Argesukov.

Not long before, the street was full of pedestrians, and there were queues at the church store not far away to get sausages.

But now, the entire street was empty.

Mrs. Alexeyevna stood for a moment, decided to go back inside, when a military unit approached from a distance.

The soldiers marched in unison, singing military songs, their high spirits in sharp contrast to the desolate surroundings.

Mrs. Alexeyevna couldn’t help but stop, maintaining the gesture of holding the doorknob as she watched the troops.

Her gaze was fixed on those young faces, like a mother looking at her children.

An entire regiment marched past No. 43 Krugen Street, and then the only tank appeared.

Mrs. Alexeyevna could not recognize the model of the tank, but she knew the huge flag fluttering on the antenna behind the tank.

A very young captain sat atop the tank turret, looking ahead with confidence.

When he saw Mrs. Alexeyevna, the young captain suddenly patted the tank hatch, “Stop!”

He shouted several times before the tank stopped, right in front of No. 43 Krugen Street.

Mrs. Alexeyevna took a few steps forward and said to the young captain, “I think I’ve seen you before, Captain.”

The captain laughed, “Impossible, it’s my father on the coin. Old lady, you better run, the enemy is coming!”

Mrs. Alexeyevna laughed, “I can’t leave, I still have things to do, I’ll wait for you to come back, child. May Saint Andrew bless you!”

The captain was confused, “What else do you have to do? Shall I have someone do it for you? You should really leave!”

Mrs. Alexeyevna shook her head repeatedly, “May Saint Andrew bless you!”

She took a few steps back and drew a triangle in front of herself.

The captain shrugged and ordered from within the tank, “Let’s go! No, forward! Is that how you give the command?”

The person inside the tank replied, “That’s right, Your Highness. Maybe you should come inside, it’s windy out.”

“No, no, no, I get a headache just a few minutes after I’m in there!” the captain said, continuing to sit atop the tank turret.

Mrs. Alexeyevna stood at the apartment door, watching the young man and his flag recede into the distance.

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