Chapter 95: Mei Jiecao’s Shameless Maneuvers

What a pity that, born in 1928, she was now only a barely legal fourteen-year-old.

Even so, her delicate face bore a faint resemblance to the famous American star Marilyn Monroe, who had risen to fame in the same era. That perfect fusion of retro charm and avant-garde allure was enough to make every man in the world lose his head over her.

And truth be told, the girl’s development had been early and impressive indeed. For someone with a seasoned eye, a glimpse through the torn fabric at her chest made it obvious that she was at least a C cup.

Mei Mumu knew very well that this was not yet her limit. When she grew into adulthood, that figure of hers would be positively criminally alluring.

Natalia as she was now... truly... radiant with youth.

Still, at fourteen, it was hardly the sort of thing that could earn a prison sentence, was it?

On the surface, Mei Mumu was the very picture of a gentleman. He merely let his eyes linger once on Natalia’s thin clothing, then adopted an awkward expression and turned his head away as he removed his own heavy overcoat.

“I am Colonel Drazovsky. You... you’re wearing far too little. You’ll freeze to death. Put on my coat first.”

Still innocent and easily flustered, Natalia blushed deeply. Taking his coat, she suddenly remembered something and asked, “Colonel? That’s a very important rank! Have you been separated from your unit?”

The Russians held officers in a kind of instinctive reverence and awe, especially one who had saved her life.

A warm flush spread across Natalia’s face.

“No,” he said. “I’m here on special assignment. I’m alone. I’ll take you back to headquarters later, and you’ll understand.”

But Natalia looked as though she might burst into tears. “Special assignment? Then... did I interfere with your mission? I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I just wanted to live.”

Mei Mumu placed a hand gently on her face in a very natural manner and said softly, “Don’t worry. I’m just the type who handles guerrilla work. I hit Germans whenever I see them. Saving you won’t get in the way.”

Natalia immediately felt much better.

After that, following Mei Mumu across the line of fire between the two armies made Natalia both terrified and exhilarated.

The place where he had rescued her was already, in practical terms, enemy territory, yet Mei Mumu led her through a disused steam-heating pipe as thick as a man’s waist, stretching between two factory buildings, and crossed it nine meters above the ground. Below them, the two armies were locked in combat, guns cracking and clattering, while bullets occasionally struck the steel pipe and ricocheted away.

An ordinary girl would likely have screamed, but Natalia showed the strength of her nerves. Even when terrified, she refused to cry out. At her most frightened, she merely gripped Mei Mumu’s trouser leg tightly. When he looked back, she forced herself to smile, though tears seemed ready to spill at any moment.

Mei Mumu had no intention of blaming her. Back when he had first arrived in this world and run into Casillas and those fallen ones, hadn’t he been scared out of his wits too?

He only gave her a gentle smile.

Hmm. It seemed the girl was a little infatuated with him.

But just as the two of them were crawling along the pipe, trying to cross the line of fire, disaster struck.

On the entire Stalingrad battlefield, the German side had only twenty-four Type 33 assault guns. In a place like this, they were as precious as national treasures.

An assault gun was an armored fighting vehicle designed to provide short-range fire support for infantry during attacks. Its silhouette was distinctive: tank-like, but without a turret, with a lower profile and a more limited firing arc.

In street fighting, where flank defense mattered less, it was one of the most terrifying weapons on the field. Essentially a tank with reinforced frontal armor and firepower, it was impossible to deal with head-on.

Especially the late-war assault Tiger, whose 380-millimeter cannon far surpassed the guns of ordinary heavy cruisers. One shot, and a building could simply vanish.

The situation now was much the same. A shell suddenly came in, shaking the ground like thunder.

Then the suspended pipe snapped, and the two of them toppled downward like a pair of uprooted onions.

“Damn it!”

To make matters absolutely brutal, Natalia fell first.

Nine meters—that was the height of a third-story fall.

This was the battlefield. You never knew where an explosion would erupt, or which building would collapse. The two of them were like laboratory hamsters being tested for intelligence.

For one fleeting instant, Mei Mumu, driven by a fierce will to survive, even wondered whether he should use the little black widow as a human cushion.

There was no helping it. A handsome man who relied on strength to remain single... ahem... that was something to be proud of!

But when Mei Mumu saw that the ground below was covered in deep snow, his inner hero sprang instantly to life.

What followed was a blur of swift, dazzling movements.

He twisted in midair and grabbed Natalia as she fell. Though the two of them were still dropping uncontrollably, the thick steel pipe gave Mei Mumu just enough leverage to angle himself past her.

By the time the pipe crashed to the ground and the two of them, with nowhere left to brace themselves, continued falling, Mei Mumu had already positioned himself beneath her as a human cushion. At the same time, a first-circle spell, Shield, activated, and an invisible barrier of force sprang open, concentrating all his magic upon his back.

In the world of mages, this kind of basic defensive spell could at best block a single magic missile. It could not even withstand the semi-transparent Vatu magic blade Casillas had once thrown at him.

Still, it was more than enough for a situation like this.

An instant later, Mei Mumu felt the impact strike the magical shield on his back. Once he judged the remaining force to be manageable, he canceled the shield and let his back slam solidly into the soft snowdrift.

Then, with a wicked heart hidden behind a look of obvious panic, Mei Mumu opened his mouth wide and let out a silent cry toward Natalia, while spreading his arms as though to keep her from being hurt.

Time seemed to freeze.

To Natalia, who was still young and inexperienced, this great hero—the one who had just rescued her from those vile Germans—was once again risking his life to protect her.

Hot tears surged uncontrollably in her eyes.

Yet her body, instinctively responding to the fall, moved on its own.

Mei Mumu’s little act succeeded halfway. Just as he had imagined, a pair of firm, perfectly shaped curves slammed into his face. As an exhausted college student who had never even held a girl’s hand, Mei Mumu had only ever watched his dorm mates next door head down the road of cross-dressing degeneracy, while he himself nearly set out on the path to becoming a thirty-year-old virgin.

At that moment, Mei Mumu felt blissful—if not for Natalia, in a reflexive motion, bending her body and driving both knees into his chest...

Thud!

If, at the last moment, Mei Mumu had not instinctively thrown up a shield over his own chest, that would have surely been the end of him, struck down amid laughter and applause.

Even with the shield taking the blow, the force equivalent to a forty-five-kilogram Russian girl launching a knee strike from midair still drove Mei Mumu to the verge of spitting blood.