Chapter 16

This is really good news. Watching Cherov, who was doing an abstract sketch, Isamotni wore a meaningful smile. Unaware of being manipulated, Cherov completed his vase masterpiece and handed the drawing board to Lukani, instructing his secretary to deliver it to the teacher. Cherov, known for his abstract sketches in the art department, naturally couldn't let ordinary classmates see his great work. So, after pioneering this style, the man who had hidden his achievements and fame found himself a new teacher, an expert in sketching from the KGB.

"I feel like my drawing skills have improved a lot! What do you think?" Cherov checked himself and then looked at Isamotni and the others with an expectant gaze, his hands twisted together, showing a rare hint of nervousness, much like a child waiting for the teacher's praise after completing homework.

Isamotni glanced at Cherov's work, a flash of shock crossing her face, followed by a sly smile. "There's a bit of improvement, at least. As long as there's progress, that's good!"

"Oh, that's great! I also feel like my hands aren't shaking as much..." Cherov nervously rubbed his hands, visibly relieved. Clearly, he had great trust in the high-caliber graduates from the Gatsnatt Special Forces City. In fact, with his increasingly strong memory, he could recall that Isamotni and Lukani had no painting courses during their training, meaning their conclusions were completely unreliable...

What kind of aura does a veteran soldier have? Muscles that explode like gas? Or a commanding presence that stands out, paired with a sharp gaze? At least when Cherov saw this group of soldiers selected from various units, he didn't feel any sense of superiority. They were just a group of ordinary people.

These model soldiers from different systems, wearing the uniforms of their respective units, stood together without the aura of elite warriors. The mix of various uniforms made them look more like a motley crew.

"Elite Russians can't be judged by ordinary standards!" Cherov consoled himself, almost blinded by the sight. Except for the navy infantry uniform, almost all Soviet military uniforms were now in front of him. At least their military posture was somewhat standardized. It was quite a feat for the GRU soldier to use the AK-47, which had only been in service for a few years, as if it were the M1891 Mosin-Nagant rifle, with engravings on the stock. The GRU seemed to allow soldiers to maintain their weapons as they pleased.

"Welcome, comrades, to the Third Directorate. Since we are all soldiers, I naturally feel a sense of kinship when I see you!" At this moment, Cherov forgot his duty to cause trouble for the Red Army and tried to bond with these veteran soldiers, a rare three-star soldier.

"Comrade Cherov, did you gather us for a mission?" asked a soldier from the Dzerzhinsky Division, dressed in black.

Mission? "Yes, there is a task for you!" Cherov's mind froze for a moment, but he quickly covered up his mistake. "We have brought in the world champion in decathlon, Comrade Kuznetsov, and the wrestling champion, Comrade Medvedev. You will compete against these two renowned athletes. We hope you can learn ways to strengthen your bodies from these two comrades, and we also hope our world champions can learn the resilient qualities of the military..."

"Are you saying we will definitely lose? Just because they are world champions, they will definitely win?" Although only one person protested, Cherov's words clearly caused dissatisfaction among the other soldiers, evident from their expressions.

"Let the results speak for themselves!" Cherov said coldly. Confidence is good, but it's better to boast after a victory. Soldiers, especially, should understand this. Given the level of these athletes who train year-round, even if these soldiers are genuine elites, Cherov still believed the two world champions would win.

The decathlon consists of 100 meters, long jump, shot put, high jump, 400 meters, 110-meter hurdles, discus throw, pole vault, javelin throw, and 1500 meters. The scores are calculated according to the IAAF's specific scoring tables for track and field events, with the highest total score winning. In Cherov's view, except for the shot put and 1500 meters, the soldiers would likely lose in most events.

The competition was held in Kuibyshev, southeast of Moscow. This place was the headquarters for the Soviet counteroffensive during the most dangerous period of the Great Patriotic War, when Moscow was under threat. Unlike common belief, the Soviet government did evacuate to here, though not for long. They returned to Moscow after the city was relieved, so this fact is not widely known.

Kuibyshev is a relatively large city around Moscow and has received attention from the Soviet government. Both urban construction and the natural environment are well-maintained. Like other Soviet cities, it has a People's Stadium, though it's unclear if they all used the same blueprint.

Perhaps due to the sparse population, the temperature here was significantly colder than in Moscow. Cherov, wearing a fur hat and with his hands tucked into his coat sleeves, looked like a weathered proletarian worker as he walked into the stadium, his breath forming long clouds. The seats inside were empty, and the snow thickness suggested it hadn't been used all winter, but the track and other facilities had been cleaned.

"Comrades, good day!" Cherov's entrance was met with strange looks from the others, though he didn't understand why.

It's no wonder. If not for the two female secretaries following him, dressed in luxurious sable coats, Cherov's appearance would have been fine. But in contrast, he looked even more shabby...

"Comrades Kuznetsov and Medvedev! I have gathered ten model soldiers from various units, who have achieved remarkable results in the revolutionary army. They will compete against you in wrestling and the decathlon. After the competition, you will also join the soldiers for wilderness survival training, including myself..." Cherov pointed to himself, indicating that he, as the director, would also participate in the training.

【I think I understand the problem. The root is that I seem to have become more timid, and I'm not as bold when writing chapters. I promised to be bold and not back down, and it's still best to stir up trouble in the world...】

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