Chapter 37

The entire East Berlin turned into a massive construction site, with aid construction teams speaking various languages working together. With the help of numerous translators, they treated this place as their home, dedicating their efforts wholeheartedly. The residents of East Berlin, after more than a decade since the end of World War II, rarely felt the support from so many brother countries. Although the Germans were known for their coldness, they temporarily joined the labor force at this time.

Building high-rise buildings, with cranes! Mixing cement, using shovels! "Sherov, is the cement mixed? If it's ready, bring up two buckets quickly!" A rough voice came from upstairs, followed by a head poking out of the window. A mason wearing glasses, fearing that others couldn't hear, shouted again.

"Done!" Sherov wiped the sweat from his face, leaving a streak, and shouted back. He quickly filled two buckets, lifted them with both hands, and walked into the hallway.

The entire process was observed by a few people standing near a car not far away. Dressed in suits, they looked at each other, unable to believe what they saw, feeling a sense of absurdity.

"Is that Mr. Sherov?" The newcomer's voice was filled with uncertainty. If his eyes didn't deceive him, the person wearing a blue work uniform, with rolled-up pants and shoes of unknown origin, covered in cement dust, was the Soviet major general who was in the West Berlin city government just over half a month ago?

"Bad memory, you should see a doctor more often! You met him just over half a month ago, and the British gentleman has already forgotten his opponent?" Ysemotni, who had spent a lot of time with Sherov, had also picked up the habit of mocking groups. She held Sherov's major general uniform, with the shoulder badges still shining.

While speaking, Sherov, not far away, had already come out of the hallway, but quickly disappeared from view again after filling two buckets of cement. "Alright!" The British representative, who had seen clearly this time, asked Ysemotni, "I want to talk to Mr. Sherov..."

"He doesn't have time!" Ysemotni's small wrist twitched, and a delicate lady's watch appeared. She glanced at the time and said in a soft voice, "There's half an hour left for lunch and rest, you can wait a bit more!"

"How long has Mr. Sherov been here?" A young man beside her asked. The British people who came here naturally thought it was a show, deliberately staged for them to see.

"Three days. Since he learned that you were going to restart negotiations, the director decided to find something to do for himself!" Ysemotni said angrily. Her director came to do manual labor, not for show, but to find a job to avoid wasting time with these people.

The contempt in Ysemotni's words was obvious, and she was quite dissatisfied with these British people. Every day after work, she spent a long time showering, but even so, Ysemotni could still feel sand left on the bed, making her and Lukani quite uncomfortable. Women naturally wouldn't be upset with Sherov, so they shifted their frustration to these people.

This unexpected disaster left the British people puzzled. Why was this beautiful lady angry at them? It was simply unreasonable.

While waiting, a man dressed just like Sherov whistled, and the construction workers around him came out of the surrounding buildings. "That Soviet man said that in the future, we should bury the electrical wires in the walls to keep the interior looking nice, which sounds quite good!"

"But if there's a problem with the circuit, it won't be easy to repair!" another construction worker countered.

"As long as the quality of the wires from our factory meets the standards, how could there be a problem! Besides, we can leave a pipe to manage all the residents' lines together, which will save time!" All the people here were construction workers, and they had endless topics to discuss about their profession. The construction workers gathered in small groups to eat, and the people passing by at most glanced at them and then went about their business. Everyone knew that there was a Soviet major general among them, but after the first day when it caused a stir, they no longer focused on Sherov. At most, it would be a good story to tell back home.

Sherov, dressed in proletarian attire, was among them. He snapped his fingers, and Ysemotni immediately took out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, opened it, and lit one for Sherov. "Is there something you need?" Sherov took a puff of the cigarette and sat directly on the ground, leaning against a pile of bricks. His appearance was as shabby as it could be, a far cry from the once mighty Caspian Tiger.

"I didn't expect Mr. Sherov to still be participating in labor. To be a major general at such a young age, you might be the only one in the Soviet Union! You must be a symbolic figure in the Soviet Union!" The British representative was surprised at first, then showered Sherov with compliments. Unfortunately, Sherov took off his hat, slapped it, and a cloud of dust made the British man shut up.

"I wouldn't dare call myself young, nor the fastest-rising official!" Sherov slapped his hat a few more times, raising more dust, and then put it back on. "There are many young officials of my rank in the Soviet Union! You know, many Soviet men died in World War II! Now, the officials who fit your description include the First Secretary of the Leninist Communist Youth League, Vladimir Yefimovich Semichastny. There are many others who meet your standards, such as Yakov Mikhailovich Sverdlov and Lavrentiy Pavlovich Beria! Compared to these people, I am not qualified at all..."

Sverdlov was the Chairman of the Central Executive Committee of the Soviet Union, the nominal head of state, and died at the age of 34. As for Beria, he was the leader of the South Caucasus Republic at the age of 32.

"If you have something to say, you can say it now. I still have to move bricks this afternoon!" Sherov took the food brought by Lukani, eating it in large bites, looking like a beggar who hadn't eaten for days. His clothes made him look even more like one! Lukani was holding a water pot, waiting for Sherov to drink, as if a kind lady was helping a beggar. This wasn't an act; Sherov always ate like this, saying he preferred to eat quickly.

Although it was very strange, the British representative suppressed his odd feelings and said, "Mr. Sherov, the current construction in East Berlin has caused the entire city to be paralyzed, affecting the lives of people in West Berlin!"

"West Berlin is your responsibility. If there's a problem, can't you solve it yourselves?" Sherov took a sip of water, his meaning very clear: it's none of my business.