Steel Soviet Union

Chapter 1170 "Elegant and Easygoing"

Malashenko was originally a little curious as to why it had been so long, but the fascist bastards on the opposite side had not yet come over.

Now it seems obvious that the answer is right in front of us.

"Oh, what do you think I am? Do you think I am Vlasov's second best? Fuck you!"

He complained like this in his heart, but Malashenko still planned to go there in person, at least to see what kind of favorable conditions these fascist bastards offered him, and to take the opportunity to open his eyes, just as a matter of fact. One last chance to have some fun before dying.

Malashenko returned to the turret and picked up the battle-damaged Somi submachine gun placed next to the seat, but saw Kirill, Iushkin and even Seryosha looking at him in unison. After thinking about it, he waved his hand directly without much hesitation.

"Come together and take you to a good show."

Along the way, Malashenko followed Oleg's lead and thought as he walked, constantly guessing what kind of military rank the Germans would send to meet him and what conditions they would offer him. If he behaved "ignorantly" What kind of reaction will the Germans react if you say "praise".

When Malashenko actually arrived at the dilapidated hut pointed by Oleg, Malashenko saw at a glance that Commissar Petrov was coming out of the door. He had obviously talked about something, and he immediately hurried away without saying a word. He went up and came to Comrade Political Commissar.

"How is it? What did these fascist lackeys say?"

Unlike Malashenko's somewhat curious expression, Commissar Petrov, who had just talked to several people in the room, smiled lightly.

"You may find it unbelievable, but those German guys know your name. They came here for you by name and wanted to see you by name."

"Before meeting you in person, I don't think they would talk about terms. The first thing they said when they met was that they were ready to be killed by us, but with the commander of the Second SS Armored Corps, How Searle conveyed the advice that we had better not do this.”

After Commissar Petrov finished speaking, Malashenko, who had never expected that the situation would be like this, was immediately amused.

"What do you mean? I'm a celebrity among the Germans?"

"You can understand it that way. I won't deny it, but you'd better ask them yourself."

"Hey"

Malashenko has seen many Germans doing work, but this is the first time he has seen such a strange way of doing work.

After taking the transcript of the inquiry from the political commissar Petrov and briefly looking at it, Malashenko, who really couldn't find any useful information in it, could only shake his head and return the folder to the political commissar. He turned around and pushed the door open.

"We have always hoped to see you in person, and it seems that you are more capable of fighting than the rumors say, Colonel Malashenko.

The moment we opened the door to meet each other, you looked at me and I looked at you. Malashenko couldn't help but laugh after being praised by the German guy.

Malashenko doesn't think that his current state of being a fugitive can be worthy of such praise from the Germans. Just smile when the weasel greets the chicken. It's fucking weird to have any good intentions.

"Who sent you here? Manstein, Holt, Hausser, or maybe your division commander?"

The Germans spoke to Malashenko in slightly broken Russian, but when Malashenko spoke, he spoke German that sounded quite pure and unobstructed. In addition, there was something worth pondering in his words. The content of Fan's hints, when combined, really surprised the four SS officers behind the table.

"There are rumors that the hero of the Soviet Union, Colonel Malashenko, speaks fluent German. Now it seems that those who don't believe it look like fools. Your German is very good, Colonel Malashenko, which is worthy of admiration."

The first person to stand up and flatter him just now was the SS officer at the head and center, and now it was the same guy who continued to flatter him.

Malashenko, whose smile never faded from his face, looked up and down at the person in front of him. This guy's military rank was unexpectedly that of a first-class assault brigade captain. The few followers sitting next to him did not have high official ranks. The oldest one was a first-level assault squadron leader.

Malashenko was a little surprised that the SS troops on the opposite side could throw a guy who was equivalent to a lieutenant colonel of the Wehrmacht to persuade them to surrender. This bunch of bastards were so confident that they could get things done? What huge benefit did this bring?

Although he was slightly surprised, Malashenko still kept his expression unchanged. With a mysterious smile on his face, he pulled out his chair and sat directly in front of the four SS officers.

"It seems that you are not very popular among your own people, Mr. Captain of the First Class Assault Group. Look, your superior just threw you here to die. He obviously wanted to take this opportunity to get rid of you. My record I can add another head of the SS First Class Assault Squadron leader to the book. This death is a bit unworthy. You were tricked to death by your own people. How unpopular you must be to be like this. thing?"

On the surface, he looks like a fool, but the soul inside the container is an authentic Chinese.

If we talk about this kind of verbal skills, every one of the idiots who criticize foreigners would be so angry that they would choke to death. Is the classic story about Wang Situ being scolded to death by Zhuge villagers a waste of reputation?

Sure enough, as soon as Malashenko finished speaking, the SS First Class Assault Battalion Captain sitting behind the table turned dark instantly.

"Colonel, we are discussing business with you in a very respectful and sincere manner! Please don't vent your personal emotions as a personal insult, it will not do you any good!"

No good for us?

Fuck you! Stupid fascist!

Malashenko looked at the first-level assault squadron leader who interrupted him halfway with a look like trash. He never took such a small supporting role seriously from beginning to end, and blurted out his words without thinking.

"Which street prostitute has no money to abort a bitch and gave birth to a bastard like you? Don't the trash who got into the SS through the back door know that you can't interrupt the conversation of your superiors at will? Or is it that trash like you don't even deserve to learn the rules?"

"You!"

"What do you mean? You come here to quarrel with me? Is your mother mass-produced on an assembly line? How dare you compete with me in cursing?"

Although it was expressed in German, the power of the knife piercing the heart was not reduced at all.

Although Major Varosha could not understand what was being said, he could see that something was wrong. He raised his hand and took out the PPSh on his waist and stepped forward. In an instant, more than a dozen Red Army soldiers stepped forward in the room with the sound of guns being loaded and fired.

Malashenko, who had never intended to surrender, stood up and walked to the table. He bent down slightly and approached. At a distance where even spit could fly to the other party's face, he supported the table with both hands and spoke slowly word by word to the first-level assault squadron leader who interrupted his speech.

"Find out whose territory you are talking on now! This is not a place for trash like you to run wild!"

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