After Becoming a Little Sister

The difference is that the cups are different. The cup on the left is an ordinary open glass, and the one on the right is a bourgeois goblet. The former is simple and rough, while the latter is delicate and elegant.

"These two glasses of wine." He pointed to the open cups in the two glasses: "One glass means that we can be friends."

Then pointing to another goblet: "A cup means that we can only become enemies."

The drunkard Maozi was let go by the elite field worker, who twisted his arms and looked at the field worker with a look of surprise, opened his mouth to speak but stopped, but finally closed his mouth, but his eyes became a little subtle.

This is the combat and capture technique in the army, even mercenaries or bodyguards are not good at learning this method.

"You are not ordinary people." The drunkard Maozi turned his head to look at the wild khaki-colored back, walked around in front of him and looked him up and down, then asked with a frown, "Soldier?"

"Guess." Khaki smiled wildly and knocked on the table: "Mr. Isakov, actually I should ask you this question."

The background of this group of bald men is not simple—perhaps it should be said that if it were simple, they would not be able to escape unscathed after touching porcelain in a large airport all day long. commissar.

Nonna in Chariots and Girls is this job. Together with the medics in Millikin and the cooks in the Republic, they are called the three most powerful hidden occupations in the army. In World War II, it played a decisive role in stabilizing morale. .

By the way, the founder of this position is the aforementioned Trotsky. He was assassinated by Beria across the Atlantic at the behest of his loving father, but the settings he left behind are still used today, although among them There were several iterations, but the dual-officer system was adopted later.

So Khaki Wild asked him to nod, because for Maozi, no one could go beyond the chief to 'incite rebellion' against them when they had a political commissar. It was not possible back then, and he doesn't really want to try it now.

Because the Republic also has the same existence, they have been tested for a long time, and they are completely loyal to their duties and honors. Khaki Wild thinks that even if the Soviet Union dies, this group of people should still have the same heart.

It would be better to say that they are mixed up like this now, instead of enjoying high officials and rich salary, which in itself proves many things.

"It seems that we have provoked some people who shouldn't be provoked." The drunkard Maozi stood beside the khaki wild man, looked down at the two wine glasses, and then sneered, "What do you want us to do?"

"I won't let you do anything difficult."

"What's the use of talking about that? We're just a bunch of wild dogs who can't find our way home. As long as you give us enough bones, we can do anything." The alcoholic Maozi teased, his eyes dimmed, and he stretched out his hand to The open glass: "Give money, do things, but we don't guarantee how well we can do it."

"Even if someone pays you to hire you to teach those guys who have harmed this country a lesson?"

"……What do you mean?"

Khaki wildly pulled out a stack of documents and threw them on the table: "The person who hired you indirectly through a broker is Mr. Goose, one of the former seven oligarchs. You should be familiar with him—he wants to provoke me through you. The conflict between Fang and the people behind you, there may be deeper considerations, but we can't be sure for the time being."

"There's no one behind us."

"Yeah, there's no one left... only you are left." Khaki wildly stretched out his hand to pick up the goblet: "But if I tell you, Mr. Goose is working with those damn Yankee guys?" ?”

"You have one on your team—no, more than one, several, and so do you."

"Make more friends, make fewer enemies, and unite all forces that can be united. This is our style of conduct, and it is also your style of conduct in the past. Is there any problem with this?" Khaki wildly gestured his hand Goblet: "I could even drink vodka and eat goulash with her, but no real Yankee."

"What if I disagree?"

"You will, Mr. Isakov, you will, I will give you money, a lot of money, but I am not asking you to do something for me, but only for yourselves to— —Frankly, I have a grudge against them, whether it's Mr. Goose, whom I didn't know before, or the Yankees, I have a grudge against them, so the harder they suffer, the happier I am."

"...So you just want to find a group of mercenaries? Then you should go to the Transcaucasus, there are plenty of people."

"If you want fighters, we have the best, the ones at the door, but I repeat, Davarish, my dear Davarish, we don't want you to do things for me, but I want to support you Do what you want, kick the ass of those Yankees hard, let those guys who resell the Soviet heritage and divide up the welfare of the people go to confess to the loving father! The loving father did not forgive them, it was his old man's business, We are only responsible for sending them to that one."

"Well, it sounds—I mean, just sounds interesting."

The drunkard Maozi shrugged, looked at the cup in his hand: "But what's the point?"

"Yeah...what's the point?" Khaki Kuangfang said the same thing, looking at the cup in his hand.

The two of them sat and stood one by one, silent for a while.

"It doesn't make sense." Khaki Kuang put down the goblet in his hand, stood up and took the cup from the alcoholic Maozi, raised his head and drank the water of life inside, and then wiped the corners of his mouth: "Just treat it as It’s just a boring dream, life is pretty good now, there is wine and food, and occasionally we can sing together, those guys enjoy everything that was taken from you, although you have nothing, But have freedom."

After speaking, the khaki wild put the empty glass in his hand on the table lightly, humming quietly, and walked out the door.

“Союз нерушимый республик свободных…”

"..."

The drunkard Maozi silently looked at his back, subconsciously touched his face.

Ah, the damn ceiling is leaking...

He thought so, but his breath was choked in his throat, as if he couldn't spit it out.

"Hey—" Someone behind him couldn't hold back, and shouted at the khaki wild back: "You bastard! Enough is enough!"

The humming khaki wild turned his head back: "What is enough? Wine? I put it here, you can do whatever you want."

"Enough! How long are you going to humiliate us!" The blushing man slapped the table and glared: "Do you think this is in your republic!"

Khaki's wild eyes were full of pity, looking at him like looking at a child: "Then do you think this is in the Soviet Union?"

"……you!"

"Wake up, you have nothing left, you don't even have the courage to raise your fists against those who play with you, so let's do it, for the sake of the past, we still call you Davarish , the wine is here, I respect you from the past."

The alcoholic Maozi took a deep breath and said harshly, "When I was 5 years old, my father told me that this is a great country."

Khaki looked at him wildly, his eyelids closed and then slowly opened, his eyes serious.

"When I was 15 years old, my father told me that he was going to do something for this great country, and then he went to Chernobyl... and then he was lying on the hospital bed and never stood up again. got up."

The alcoholic Maozi picked up the bottle of water of life, raised his head and took a sip, then coughed out loudly.

He squatted on the ground, with tears and snot mixed on his face, and wiped it indiscriminately: "When I was 25 years old, my father asked me, why did the great country disappear? Where did it go?"

"..."

"I said, Dad, it's still there...it's still there...but my dad didn't believe it, he said how could it still be there, if it was still there, then he should be in a convalescent ward with heating, not at home with coal The stove couldn't even burn, he asked me if there was a war, and another damn invader came in..."

The alcoholic Maozi tilted his head up and drank the wine, and then said something in tears. Khakisang listened wildly, and only understood the last sentence he said in reply to his own father.

What he said was 'No, Dad, no enemies, no wars, nothing, nothing left. '

Khaki wildly looked past him, looking at the bald men behind him.

The one who was blushing and wanted to scold him, now sucked his nose and rubbed his cheek with the sleeve of his arm viciously, trying to suppress the pain in the memory-men usually don’t want to cry in front of others when they grow up of.

It seems that some bitter past events did happen to them, or to more people.

The khaki color wildly lowered his eyes, and then shook his head: "I admire your father, but it has nothing to do with me, you are the one who inherited everything from him... It's a pity that no one will accept your father Remember."

Unlike those "Chernobyl" films in the West that were filmed specifically for black people, most of the Chernobyl nuclear accident in the real history was dealt with by Maozi's army, rushing in with a shovel on their shoulders, Two years ago, 24 people rushed in and built the sarcophagus that blocked Chernobyl with their lives.

But the so-called realistic "Chernobyl" that is talked about by people will not say these things. It will only talk about how slow the Soviet Union's response was and how many mistakes the Soviet Union made at the beginning. The old routine of scientists from the United States to save the world, as always, promotes that they are the heroes, and Maozi's crimes are too numerous to record.

They danced on the corpse of the Soviet Union, and even wanted to pour their own paint on the frozen soil where the Soviet Union was buried.

No one will remember that the alcoholic Maozi's father was also a hero back then, no—it's like his own country has forgotten him.

The reason why those guys filmed like this, the reason why they dared to shoot like this, and the reason why they dared to put these on the screen and spread them all over the world, is because they have the right to speak—people only know that there are Chernobyl and Ivan the Great , but did not know that there were Bikini Atoll and Bravo Castle, and that there were as many as 12 nuclear tests in 67 years.

But how can this be so?

Khaki twitched the corners of his mouth wildly, showing an expression that was not a smile, and persuaded softly: "Drink, don't think so much, just get drunk, it's very warm here, we won't cut off the electricity, so you guys You can take a good rest and leave tomorrow by yourself, we won't stop you."

After taking two steps forward, he turned his face sideways: "I thought we could be friends, but as far as we look at it right now, we're just... not considered enemies for the time being."

There's no Davarishi left, he's doomed to carry it all alone, to kick the ass of the Real Gate hard by himself.

You can't generalize between Yankees and Yankees. Some people can be friends, while others can only be sent to see God. From Japan to Nanbang and then to Eastern Europe, the Eastern European branch of the Gate of Truth has always been It hasn't stopped, these people are sick in their minds.

If the brain is sick, it must be cured—by reason or physics.

"I have a wife, although she divorced me... I have a daughter..."

The drunkard Maozi murmured behind him, as if he was talking to himself, but also to him.

Khaki wildly paused.

"So I can't take risks...you know what I mean...I can't...you are only for yourself, you have money...you have money so you dare to say such things, saying this is like a noble young master What you said—why didn't you resist! Why didn't you let the bodyguards beat them! You don't know anything!"

"How long has it been since you used a gun?" Khaki turned wildly and took out his gun from his inner pocket: "Five years? Ten years?"

"……what?"

"I'm not a nice guy, really, like I told you before, you can take this as a deal, although I'd rather think of it as a favor I did to a friend - it's a pity we didn't become friends , you are doing fine too, you don’t need help.”

Khaki wildly gestured to the gun in his hand: "The last time I used it was yesterday."

As he spoke, he reached out and took two bottles of wine from the box next to him, threw them in two directions, then raised his left hand to cover his face to block his sight, and raised his gun with his right hand to blast the two bottles of wine in the air with precision.

Splashes of glass and wine scattered all over the floor, and some were spread on the edge of the table, dripping down.

"The walls of this room are gray walls, and they won't ricochet." He unloaded the magazine, checked the firearm skillfully, turned off the safety and stuffed it back into his pocket: "I'm not a good person, but I'm pretty sure I was The guys I'm dealing with are total villains and I don't have kids but I have a mother and a father and I have a perfect little family...but I'm fighting for myself and for many more, you know Do I mean?"

"you……"

"I have money, but it has nothing to do with whether I have money or not." He squatted down, his eyes were level with the drunkard Maozi who was squatting on the ground, and he pointed to his chest: "If I were a noble young master, then I and you Same, betrayed his own class, the good news is that I am still alive, and you, are dead, you should be buried in the snowstorm of Siberia, not drinking here."

"..."

"I didn't intend to help you choose your life, I just thought you guys wanted to do something else, just like your father, the gang I'm going to deal with is one of the culprits of the Chernobyl accident... Maybe? I don't Be sure about those things, after all, only long-term events can be considered history, Chernobyl is too recent, and things within 50 years will all be affected by politics."

"I also... I have a daughter—"

"That's not your daughter, Isakov, you and I both know it's not, that's the child you adopted from your comrades in arms, she has a father, she's a hero, but you're not—none of you, she can be proud She proudly claims that she has 19 fathers, but you all know that she only has one heroic father, and 18 soft bastards who have been kneeling for so many years..."

"I...I'm not..."

"Aren't you?" Khaki stood up wildly, walked over, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up: "If you're not, then what are you doing now? Why are you here! Answer me why!"

"I--"

"Are you going to say that you are for your daughter?"

"Yep!"

"Then what are you doing for your daughter?"

"……I--"

"If you want money, I've told you before. If you want to give her a clean environment, even if it's a little bit cleaner, you should do it yourself!"

"You don't understand...you don't understand! You don't understand anything at all! You are just a bunch of idealists!"

Khaki nodded wildly, grabbed his collar, and motioned him to take a closer look at the environment: "Have you seen where this is? A luxurious hotel, this hotel belongs to my friend's house, she has more knowledge than me Money, ten times and a hundred times more money, but she has never stopped pursuing the so-called justice, we are all idealists, but we are still doing things in addition to our ideals."

Justice has never been a mere slogan—at least not in the eyes of these people.

That's something to pursue, something to execute,

Maozi's site is messed up and rotten. They really don't know why it's messed up or why it's rotten?

nonsense!They are more aware of the existence of oligarchs than anyone else, and they are more aware of the activities of guys like the Eastern European Branch.

It's like they knew better than anyone else how Maozi's military equipment was resold by tons and tons according to weight. Sometimes when it rots, it is crooked from top to bottom, and it rots from bottom to top again. .