Chapter 1

When you walk down the street, sometimes a sense of déjà vu flashes through your mind, as if you have been to this place before. But when you think about it carefully, you can't remember. Or when you encounter a certain scene, you always feel that you have seen it somewhere before. Some people explain this phenomenon as a dream, but it does not apply to our protagonist, Shefov.

A ray of morning light filtered through the curtains into the bedroom. Shefov, who was sleeping, looked uneasy, as if he were in a fierce internal struggle. His brows were tightly furrowed. Suddenly, he threw off the blanket, sat up abruptly, and made some random gestures. When the familiar furnishings of the bedroom came into view, he let out a long sigh and raised his right hand to wipe the sweat from his face.

"Yuri? What's wrong? Are you having a nightmare again?" Valya sat up with a lazy expression, her voice filled with concern. "Otherwise, we should go to the hospital for a check-up! It's been a long time, and I'm afraid..."

"Is it that dream again? Could I have really been a villain in my past life?" Shefov took a towel from the side to wipe his face, still feeling unsatisfied, he took off his undershirt and panted heavily.

"Are you talking about the dream where you are a slave owner? Maybe you've been under too much stress lately!" Valya got out of bed, wearing a plaid nightgown, and walked behind Shefov, comforting him gently like a child. "I'll go with you to the hospital for a check-up today! Our Soviet medicine is quite advanced, what are you afraid of?"

In theory, Shefov, born in modern times, had nothing to fear and would not avoid medical treatment. But he was afraid of going to the hospital because some of the things in his head did not belong to the Soviet Union.

"It's just a nightmare! No need to make a big fuss!" Shefov forced a smile and slowly lit a cigarette. His expression was haggard, and this dream had been haunting him for a long time.

A wisp of blue smoke drifted in the air. At this moment, only nicotine could slightly dispel the gloom in his heart. Shefov, with a muddled mind, enjoyed a moment of peace, unaware of the impending danger.

A clear cough made Shefov shudder. His limbs moved involuntarily as he stood up and slowly but firmly left the bedroom. He walked straight to the balcony, opened the window, and stuck his head out, facing the cold December wind, continuing his previous actions. Except for the change of scene, there was no difference in his movements.

"If you weren't a woman, I would have slapped you long ago!" Shefov, who had been on the balcony for thirty years, muttered to himself, looking at the apartments that were gradually lighting up, a thought came to his mind: Ah... it's mating season on the grassland again! A cold wind from the Arctic Ocean made Shefov momentarily清醒, and he casually flicked the cigarette butt away, locking the window and returning to the bedroom.

He drank the borscht like it was tasteless, more silent than usual, quietly enjoying the woman's tenderness. This abnormal behavior made the worry in Valya's eyes even more intense, her fair face showing a hint of contemplation. Since a month ago, Shefov had been troubled by a strange dream. At first, even he didn't take it seriously, but after a continuous month, the head of the household's condition made Valya increasingly worried.

"I'll go with you to the Technical Management Directorate for a check-up first!" Valya bit her bright red lips and said this, not seeking Shefov's opinion. Usually, when this tone appeared, it was just to inform the nominal head of the household that she had already decided to do it.

"Technical Management Directorate? Can't we go to a regular hospital?" Shefov mechanically put a piece of bread in his mouth. The Technical Management Directorate controlled all the research units of the KGB, including a KGB General Hospital that served KGB officers. The hospital's standards were naturally not a problem, but many of the drugs were developed by the KGB Technical Management Directorate and not available on the market. Emotionally, Shefov was unwilling to entrust his safety to them.

"You are also the director of the directorate. If you go, those guys will definitely keep it confidential! They won't talk!" Valya helped her man analyze the situation. "Going to the city hospital might leak information. You can't let people know that the director of the Military Management Directorate is under mental stress..."

That's a good point. A mentally fragile person cannot be relied upon by the KGB! Shefov always subconsciously overlooked this. After clearing the dishes, the two put on their coats and left the apartment. This year's winter in Moscow was the coldest Shefov had encountered in years. Looking at the woman beside him, whose face was slightly flushed, he asked with concern, "Are you cold? I could have gone by myself..."

"Would you have run away halfway?" Valya gave the man a playful glare, as if she had already seen through the child's trick, and crisply ordered, "Get in the car, I'll take you there..."

Get in, get in! Shefov sat in the passenger seat with a resigned look. This car was clearly provided by the KGB, but it had become the woman's means of transportation. Was there any justice in the world? Was there any law?

The woman driving focused on the road ahead, her driving technique having the delicacy characteristic of a girl. This feeling was the same as when they first met five years ago. In fact, Valya's speed was very fast, almost pushing the potential of the 1950s Soviet knockoff car to the limit.

The two drove east for over an hour before stopping at a place marked in Russian as a military restricted area. Looking at the armed internal troops, Shefov got out of the car and presented his credentials. A sword and a five-pointed star were integrated, with the hammer and sickle symbol above, indicating the KGB's mission to protect the Soviet Union. The sword also symbolized the KGB's offensive policy since its inception, whether the enemy was internal or external, proactive strikes were the KGB's strategic direction.

"Hello, Major General Shefov, welcome to the General Hospital for an inspection!" The guard checked the credentials and saluted Shefov, moving the roadblock in front of the car.

"The confidentiality of the Technical Management Directorate is very strict. Don't wander around! Otherwise, the internal troops observing the situation might shoot. Mistakes are not allowed here!" Shefov carefully explained the situation to Valya, his words filled with deep concern.

The KGB General Hospital was just a part of the Technical Management Directorate, which was as large as a small town. Most of the people being examined at the General Hospital were KGB officers in the Moscow area, with a significant portion from the various directorates. Along the way, Shefov encountered several officers from the Third Directorate who greeted him, seemingly surprised to see their direct superior and his wife there.

"The building opposite is also part of the General Hospital, but it serves foreign spies caught in our country!" Shefov pointed to the opposite building and said, "However, the atmosphere there is more research-oriented, so it can't be considered a simple hospital. Some specialized doctors and researchers for trained foreign spies work there..."

Satisfying the woman's curiosity, Shefov held her hand and entered the psychiatric floor, finding the most experienced attending physician, Dr. Yagoda. Dr. Yagoda, a psychologist with rich experience, was at the forefront of Soviet expertise in this field. However, considering it was the 1950s, even the best doctors were probably only as good as average doctors in the future.

Entering the office, Shefov looked at the 40-something Dr. Yagoda, calmly took out a pen, unscrewed it, and placed it to his ear. A short burst of static sounded, and Shefov, with a cold expression, put the pen back in his pocket and said, "Dr. Yagoda, tell the surveillance personnel responsible for this ward to turn off the monitoring equipment..."

"Sure, Major General Shefov!" Yagoda quickly took off his glasses and went out to notify them.

Shefov gave a cold laugh and said nothing. As a member of the KGB, he naturally knew the department's working style and was not surprised by the monitoring in the ward. However, he could not be monitored himself. The pen in his pocket was also produced by the Technical Management Directorate, specifically designed to detect whether there were any monitoring devices around.

Shefov tried to be a cooperative patient, thoroughly examining his body and waiting for the final results.

"General Shefov, how long have you been suffering from insomnia? Your various indicators are all normal..." Yagoda did not record anything in his notebook or write down Shefov's medical history, to avoid the director of the directorate, who had almost been monitored, from getting angry.

"About a month, my sleep quality is very poor!" Shefov said matter-of-factly.

"Does this affect your work during the day?" Yagoda put on his glasses and thought about a very similar case.

"Not really, my mental state is more energetic than before! There are no physical problems!" Shefov's words shocked Yagoda, as they did not conform to scientific common sense. If Shefov were not the director of the directorate, Yagoda swore he would make Shefov understand the consequences of non-cooperation.

"Let's do a physical examination, General! Since you say your body is not fatigued and feels good, we will test your physical indicators! Comrade Shefov, don't be nervous..."

Page AD starts

Page AD ends