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墨書 Inktalez
Makarov leaned closer, glancing at the other dozen men around him. Each of them looked at him with a hint of wariness, as if to say, "Are you planning a rebellion?" With so many high-precision rifles and shotguns, along with a few squad-level machine guns and grenades, they could easily form a strong unit.
“Do you really expect me to believe you’re buying guns to hunt wild boars?”
Alexei locked the box and moved it aside to open another large container. Inside were neatly arranged modular components. After pulling out the first layer, he revealed a stack of gun barrels and various sighting accessories.
Makarov twitched his lips. “Can’t you come up with a better excuse? Seven million in arms, and you’re using them to hunt wild boars?”
He picked up a component and skillfully assembled it. In no time, he held a rifle equipped with a thermal sight and laser sight, tapping the grenade launcher beneath the barrel. “Do you really need this to hunt wild boars? We’ve got tigers and brown bears back home; a rifle might not be enough to take them down. This is just insurance.”
Alexei snatched it from his hands, slowly disassembling it. “Don’t mess with our stuff; if you break it, you’ll pay for it.”
“Alright, you’re impressive,” Makarov said, rummaging through the piles of boxes until he found an olive-green one. He opened it to reveal a disassembled weapon. Pulling Alexei over to the box, he pointed at it. “Tell me what this is for.”
“Damn,” Alexei stared at the metal lump in the box, his eyes wide. Two other men leaned in closer, their mouths agape. Makarov pulled Alexei into a corner, pinching his thumb and fingers together as if calculating something. “Do you have some secret operation going on? Need more hands? I can help you contact a whole batch of elite fighters.”
“Contact elite fighters to help us hunt wild boars?”
Alexei rolled his eyes, locking the box again before distributing cigarettes to everyone. Finally, he stepped into the shadows with Makarov to smoke. “I’m not lying to you, Makarov; we really are buying guns for wild boar hunting. That guy over there is our village chief.”
“That’s quite extravagant,” Makarov remarked after listening to Alexei's explanation. He glanced at the boxes scattered around and smacked his lips. “You’re lucky; carrying guns on patrol every day nets you three hundred thousand rubles, plus room and board.”
“It’s mainly because my teacher set it all up,” Alexei grinned.
He continued with a chuckle, “We’ve got seven brothers here under the Signal Flag; the rest are all retired from Alpha after suffering irreversible injuries during missions. They’re just waiting out their days now.”
He sighed deeply. “It was your faulty intel that nearly got me killed by a grenade back then. But I survived—just barely—with lung damage that led me to be reassigned to my teacher’s place for retirement.”
“Is there no personal connection in all this?” Makarov raised an eyebrow.
Alexei didn’t hide anything as he replied, “My brother-in-law is the commander of a tank regiment, but he didn’t give my teacher much face back then. My teacher offered him two slots; I moved here with my family along with Kozinecov, and my brother-in-law wholeheartedly supported my teacher after that.”
“Each gets what they need; that works out well.”
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