Chapter 485 The snoring sound shook the sky

Before Malashenko opened his eyes from a deep sleep, Natalia, who got up early, had already turned what she had long dreamed of into a reality - making breakfast for her lover.

He had forgotten how long it had been since he had a good night's sleep. Malashenko, who lay in bed as if dead, had never slept so peacefully and at ease.

Memories from later generations of travelers clearly tell Malashenko that the German troops are gone forever. With a full week's vacation in hand, Malashenko can take a good nap without restraint, with loud snores. The roof was almost torn off. God knows how Natalia, who always slept as quietly as a kitten, survived last night.

Natalia, who had already put breakfast on the table, did not wake up her sleeping lover. Instead, she moved a small stool and sat on the bed closest to Malashenko.

In this small world of Natalia, being able to maintain the current posture and look at her lover is the happiest thing in the world so far. If possible, Natalia even hopes to freeze it like this. The scene can last forever.

No one could tell how long Natalya had been watching Malashenko quietly like this. Malashenko, who was drooling and wet his neck, finally woke up reluctantly with two sleepy eyes. At that moment, the first thing that caught my eye was Natalia's quiet and gentle face so close at hand.

"What time is it now? How long have I been asleep?"

Rubbing his sore neck, he looked up at the clock on the wall. The pointer, which was already close to ten o'clock, made Malashenko instantly as alert as an electric shock.

"Oh, damn it! Comrade Kotin will arrive in Moscow at eight o'clock in the morning. I slept too long!"

According to the timetable Zhukov told Malashenko, Comrade Kotin, the father of heavy tanks of the Soviet Red Army, should arrive in Moscow by train at around eight o'clock in the morning. After that, he will rush to the Kremlin to report recent work and discuss issues with Supreme Leader Comrade Stalin. After that, Comrade Kotin will spend the remaining half day to have a good discussion with Malashenko.

Not knowing how long the reporting work between Kogin and his loving father Stalin would last, Malashenko, who was afraid that he would leave a bad impression by being late for the first meeting, almost jumped out of bed and immediately grabbed the bed. The military uniforms on the hangers began to make final preparations before departure.

Such a hasty action naturally did not escape Natalia's eyes. While she loved this man deeply, she also heard from neighbors and newspapers that Malashenko did not belong to her alone.

The sobs and hatred of losing her parents, family and everything when she was young have long been forgotten, and it was Malashenko who personally washed away the shadow in Natalia's lonely heart.

"Is there anything important to do?"

Recalling that he had never told Natalya that he was going to meet Kogin today, Malashenko, who had nothing to keep from Natalya, immediately blurted out.

"Well, it's on the schedule to meet with a very important person today. I have some work matters to discuss. Maybe I'll come back later. You can eat by yourself first. I should be in charge of the food."

He did not directly answer Malashenko's words but stood quietly aside to help Malashenko tidy up his clothes.

A brand-new tank corps lieutenant colonel officer's uniform was quickly put on with Natalia's help. Since it was not a combat situation, he directly buckled the armed belt on the military uniform inside, and put on the winter woolen coat to keep out the cold like a cloak. It's outside.

On the battlefield, he spends most of the day in a tank. Malashenko, who doesn't pay much attention to clothing, rarely even wears the uniform of an officer. In most cases, he just wears a cotton coat and a black fireproof combat uniform. After putting on his leather tank hat, Malashenko, who occasionally looked in the mirror once or twice on the battlefield, felt that he was more of a farmer than a farmer at that time.

Now that he was wearing this outfit, he naturally looked much more handsome. After looking in the mirror and feeling fine, Malashenko turned around and started to go out. But the moment he put his right hand on the door handle, something unexpected hit him. In the hands of Malashenko.

"Always remember to eat breakfast, especially on the battlefield."

Holding the piece of bread that was still warm in his hand and smiling lightly, Malashenko suddenly felt that he now had everything he had been pursuing but never wanted in the future.

"wait me back!"

Malashenko, who came to the corridor, vaguely remembered that Corporal Valentin disappeared into the room behind the wooden door on the left yesterday. Malashenko, who was not sure whether Corporal Valentin was staying in the room temporarily, stepped forward. I went to reach out and knock on the door, but I never thought that the door, which was not closed at all but only ajar, was quietly pushed open by the knocking right hand.

Corporal Valentin, who was lying on the bed with his legs crossed, was holding How the Steel Was Tempered in his hand to pass the time and reminisce about the classics. When he went out to fetch water early in the morning, he forgot to close the door. Malashenko happened to push the door open and enter. He was standing at the door looking at Corporal Valentin.

"Hey, Comrade Malashenko, good morning! Where are we going today?"

Through two contacts with Malashenko, we already know that Malashenko is an approachable person with little official pretensions. Corporal Valentin, who is always cautious when dealing with senior officials, seems particularly cheerful in front of Malashenko. He looks like a friend who is a few years younger than Malashenko.

"Let's go to the train station today. I'm going to meet someone there."

"Okay, Comrade Malashenko, let's go."

Corporal Valentin, who knew the rules, did not ask Malashenko who he was going to see. He just held the steering wheel and drove forward along the road.

Malashenko, who was sitting in the passenger seat with the window rolled down, was breathing in the rare fresh cold air, looking like a lunatic as he gnawed on the bread that Natalia had given him before leaving.

"Well, it tastes pretty good. It's much better than the battered bread Irina baked in the class next door when I was studying abroad."

Malashenko, who was chewing the bread made by Natalia herself, could still recall the experience of eating the soft tofu of the classmate next door when he was studying in Moscow in his previous life. He called his junior classmate Davarich's love experience. Now that I think about it, it couldn't be more bizarre.

Malashenko licked the crumbs on his fingertips and sucked his fingers. Malashenko, who had never felt that his actions were indecent, looked much uglier on the battlefield than he does now. The scene of the starving ghost's reincarnation made him want to destroy the entire scene. The lunch boxes were all stuffed into my stomach.