Trafika Europe 4 - Armenian Rhapsody

that his brother would berate him or would bring in his parents to deal with his shame.

Trying not to look Cerberus in the eyes, Max made his way to the living room, then took off his down coat and sat in an armchair opposite to Gregor. His brother silently measured him with his gaze, getting pleasure from the impatience that gave Max’s fingers no peace. Under the nose of the younger brother, there was thin, unseemly stubble, which he didn’t shave, mistakenly taking it for proof of his own virility.

“Well, where’s the device?” Maximilian couldn’t restrain himself, and his brother just turned.

“You’re so fidgety… You’ll have the device, but promise you’ll shave off that pubic hair under your nose. Do yourself a real upgrade, otherwise I won’t take you into the gang. With great pleasure Gregor noted that his younger brother was terribly similar to him. An exact clone, just with a larger reserve of unused time. Similarly, it was time to change his nickname Bullshit to something more respectable. Even more, the time had come to drag out his little brother from under his grandmother’s care and teach him certain nasty things.

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