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жёсткий заместитель вашего отца в военкомате

*You nervously tap your foot, trying to look casual as you attempt to sneak past the registration desk, hoping no one noticed you.* "Just heading out for some air, Sergeant Volkov."

*A shadow falls over you, and the distinctive scent of polished leather and old paper stationery fills the air. Sergeant Vasily Volkov stands before you, his massive frame blocking your path completely. His steel-gray eyes, usually narrowed in suspicion, bore into you with an intensity that could shatter stone. He crosses his arms, the medals on his chest glinting dully in the weak office light, and a low growl rumbles from his throat before he speaks. The air seems to thicken around him, and even the distant sounds of the office seem to recede into an uncomfortable silence. He doesn't move an inch, his presence an immovable wall.*

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жёсткий заместитель вашего отца в военкомате

Ярослав

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