Sergei has always adhered to the tradition of KGB agents, and there are no less than ten residences in Moscow alone, and there is never any trace of where to stay at night. Located on the outskirts of Moscow, this manor house is built with a mix of French and Russian styles without losing the sense of French royal ceremonies and the addition of many Russian-style war helmets. Huge pine branches are covered with snow, the north wind blows, and the clear blue sky is full of snow floc during the day. The sunflowers, the national flower, under the pine trees, have long since withered and withered. Most of the servants in the manor, dressed in black and white servants, were silent at this time, because the butler had just informed him that Master Sergei would stay in this residence called "Pushkin's Garden" tonight.

The estate is a large manor house, the ancestral property of an aristocratic man before the last century's movement, and it is said that the great poet who died in a duel stayed here for a time, hence the name. After the liberation of all Russia, during the former Soviet Union, it was one of the harem gardens of a certain big man in Soviet Russia, and after the big man was liquidated by the party, Zhuang Tuan changed hands several times, and finally somehow fell into the hands of Sergei.

The black bulletproof gallop slowly drove into the manor, and the gray-haired butler waited on the porch slightly, until the man who held half of the Russian underground world slowly stepped out, saw the butler, and laughed softly: "Valeryvich, you are not my subordinate, it is my honor to ask you to come back to take care of this manor." The old KGB agent looked like a retired university professor, wearing a suit vest, and a few shiny silver hairs could be faintly seen in his flaxen-colored back combing, but the whole person looked energetic, but the original soft facial contours were destroyed by the towering eagle groove nose and deep nasolabial folds, and even if he spoke to people with a pleasant face, he could still feel the coldness and ruthlessness in his bones.

The old man he called Valeryevich still bowed slightly, and said neither humbly nor arrogantly: "Since you gave me a job, you are my employer, and at least respect is still needed." ”

Old Sergei nodded and waved his hand: "Let's all go get busy!"

Valeryevich raised his chin at the servant behind him, and the two rows of servants who did not dare to come out of the atmosphere left the place where they felt extremely uncomfortable.

"How's it going?" Sergey teased a parrot in the hallway, like a rich man after retiring.

Valeryevich still didn't move his eyelids, leaned over and said slowly: "The intelligence officers trained by the Chinese army are not the same as those in other countries, and the time is still too rushed, I need a little more time." ”

Sergei was still teasing the parrot on the wooden frame with his fingers, his expression was relaxed, and he gently pinched the parrot's curved beak with his thumb and forefinger.

Suddenly, the colorful parrot flickered its wings twice, and then stopped moving.

"Smack!" the parrot's still warm corpse fell to the ground, its neck crooked, lifeless.

"Parrots that can't speak, is it still useful to keep them?" Sergei wiped his hands with the scarf handed by his subordinates behind him, and the corner of his eyes swept over Valeryevich as if nothing, and then smiled faintly, "Do you need to send someone to China?"

Valeryevich said lightly: "He has no family in China, which we have confirmed a long time ago. Valeryevich is the name used by this Caucasian man in his sixties, before the collapse and turmoil of the great power in the last century, he did not even have a name, only a code name - "The Truth", because any determined revolutionary who fell into his hands would be tortured and reveal the information needed by the organization, and it was once rumored within the KGB that this Caucasian, who was always smiling and warm, had at least a thousand ways to torture prisoners.

"Do you think he'll speak?" Sergei said as he stood on the sunset-shrouded porch, looking at the blood-red sky that was illuminated by the afterglow of the setting sun.

Valeryevich said slowly: "There is no impermeable wall in this world, and there is no mouth that cannot be pried open. ”

"I'm going to see him, and he's half my son. Sergei turned around and walked slowly to the manor with his hands behind his back, his shadow stretched out quite long by the setting sun, but his straight waist looked slightly rickety in the bloody sunset.

Valeryevich finally straightened up, his whole person was like a sharp sword, silently looking at the back, and was silent for a long time.

Under Valeryevich's care, the lawn of the manor is very neatly trimmed, and the snow shoveled under the big trees next to the lawn is piled up one by one, I don't know if it is because the snow is melting, and the lawn feels a little soft when stepped on, which reminds Sergey of the days when he fought with the "Red Fox" in the snow forest on the Russian-Chinese border, but at that time, blood flowers bloomed around him from time to time, each of which was a head shot by a bullet, and that head belonged to the fresh life that had talked and laughed with him before. It was a battlefield, and either you died or I lived, so he felt that "Red Fox" was right, because if he didn't kill these Sergei's comrades, he would die at their hands. But that's right doesn't mean that there is no hatred, and it's a big feud of life and death, and now, I have to add the life of little Sergei!

He walked over to a gray building that looked out of place throughout the manor, and with a slight wave of his hand, the feeling of being locked by a sniper disappeared. However, instead of pushing open the gate of the building, he went around to the back of the building, pushed open the wooden fence, walked into the small courtyard at the back, and opened the snow-covered manhole cover, which turned out to be a bottomless staircase that stretched deep into the pitch black underground.

"Wait for me here. He said lightly to the two retired special forces bodyguards behind him, and then stepped into the black well and slowly walked down.

He seemed to be very familiar with the environment here, after walking down dozens of steps, there was a three-way intersection in front of him, he walked along the leftmost intersection all the way, and after walking for about ten minutes, suddenly a male voice came from the dark: "Don't move, who?"

"It's me. Sergei said in a deep voice.

Only then did the two men emerge from the darkness: "Sir, why are you here at this time?" They seemed surprised, because it was still daylight outside, and Sergei rarely appeared in this sensitive place during daylight hours.

"I'm going to see our dear Victor, oh no, I should call him 'Peter', didn't you all call him in private?" Sergei seemed to be joking, but there was no smile on his smiling face.

The two men immediately fell silent, did not dare to make a loud noise, and hurriedly opened the secret door hidden in the wall,

Sergei smiled and stepped through the secret door.

Ten years later, Peter, are you truly at ease?