Chapter 3

The Bear's Soup is Now My Story 3

003 100 Meters Before Meeting the Guy / Before Baldness Progressed

St. Petersburg.

In Russia, it is the second most populous city after Moscow, and in Europe, it is the fourth most populous city with a population of 5 million. Built on an island, it is also known as the "Venice of the North."

It was previously called Petrograd and Leningrad, but it regained its old name in June 1991.

It had been less than six months since it regained its name.

"About 20 years later, a Hyundai car factory will be built here."

As he stepped out of St. Petersburg Station, a cold blast of -20°C hit him.

Nikolai looked up at the distant sky.

"It's sunrise. It was sunset when I left home."

His mind, despite the sub-zero temperature, burned like the sun.

"Phew. I'm about to meet Putin in his late 30s."

Deciding to kill someone is not an easy task for ordinary people.

If not for the deep-seated desire for revenge, Nikolai would never have made such a decision.

Shaking his confused head and adjusting his bag, someone behind him asked,

"Are you from Moscow?"

"…!"

At the sound of the voice, Nikolai's body instantly stiffened.

He remembered being dragged away by secret police in Moscow without knowing why before he got his new life.

No one except his family knew he was here.

"But who could it be?"

In an instant, countless thoughts swirled through his mind like a typhoon.

Tense, he quickly scanned his surroundings.

It was early morning, but many people were getting on and off the train.

This was not a remote place but a busy train station.

Calmly, Nikolai turned his head.

A man in his late 30s, dressed in plain clothes, with a stern expression and a large build exuded a strong sense of authority.

Nikolai's eyes narrowed slightly.

"How do you know I'm from Moscow?"

The man, unexpectedly, flinched and gave an awkward smile.

"Oh, that? Most people who get off the night train are from Moscow. Did I make a mistake…? Are you going to take a taxi when you get out?"

"Well, yes…"

"Ah, I hit the nail on the head. It's so competitive outside that I came in here."

"Ah. So you're a taxi driver."

He was momentarily tense when the driver tried to solicit customers.

As the saying goes, "Once bitten, twice shy," and that's exactly how he felt now.

"Yes, that's right. I'm a local, so I know this place well. If you want, you can take my car."

"Sure, why not."

Following the driver's guidance, they went outside, and early in the morning, snowplows were visible.

Snow piled up on the side of the road as cars passed.

Even though the country had changed, it seemed that Russia's destiny was to always clear the snow.

'This reminds me of my military service in Gangwon Province.'

In the military, when it snowed, they said, "Garbage is falling from the sky."

Now, the old, cotton-candy-like white memories of that time, which he could never return to, came flooding back.

"Where are you going?"

"To the 'Temple of Blood Salvation.'"

"Huh?"

"Why do you ask?"

"My house is near there."

"Good."

"But that's a unique name. Here, it's called the 'Church of the Resurrection of Christ.'"

While having this simple conversation, just as he was about to open the taxi door, a muscular man approached and started cursing the driver.

"Damn! You went in and brought a customer out, didn't you?"

"Sorry, I needed the money."

"Hey! Is there anyone here who doesn't need money?"

"I won't do it again. Just this once, please let it go."

"If you do it again, you'll really die."

He clenched his fist and looked behind him.

Four men of similar build were smirking.

"Don't take it lightly."

He spat and walked back to his car.

If he got hit by those men, he might really die.

"Ah, I'm sorry for startling you. I don't usually do this, but as you know, it's been hard to make a living since the country changed."

"Still, be careful. They really looked like they were going to hit you."

"I have to watch my back. Nowadays, even local mafia drive taxis, and if you get the wrong one, you can really get beaten up. Some even collect protection money."

This driver was no different from the first one he met.

He explained in detail the famous places in the city and even started asking personal questions.

"Young man, it's impressive that you're traveling in such a chaotic time."

"Ah, yes. But why are those people lining up?"

"They seem to be buying bread from the state-owned store. Nowadays, with shortages, you have to wait in line for everything. Prices are also getting higher. The country is really changing."

This is just the beginning.

Prices will skyrocket, and the value of the currency will plummet.

This shock will continue for six years.

And the fateful year of 1998.

Russia will declare a moratorium (payment suspension, like South Korea's IMF) and the 'seven years of capitalism' experiment following 70 years of socialism will end in failure.

As a result, the suffering of the Russian people will continue for at least 10 years.

These 10 years.

For the Russian people, it will be a time of suffering, but for Nikolai, it will be a time of opportunity for growth.

"Here is where you mentioned. Where would you like to get off?"

"Just park it by that traffic light."

He added a little extra to the agreed fare.

"Have a good trip."

Nikolai, wearing an original mink scarf, black leather gloves, and ear muffs, started walking towards the address he remembered.

Putin's house was a five-story apartment building, visible after crossing the railroad tracks and passing a blue-painted store.

It was early morning, and the streets were empty due to the school break, but there were quite a few cars.

Upon arriving at the apartment, Nikolai confirmed there was no one around and checked the mailboxes.

'This is definitely it.'

Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin.

The name was clearly engraved on the mailbox of apartment 304.

After confirming it was his house, he decided to wait outside.

It was cold, but he was well-prepared, so he could endure it for a few hours.

He bought three 500ml drinks from a store, planning to drink one now and save the other two for later.

'If I put the prepared substance in the drink and offer one to him while drinking one myself, it will be perfect.'

He won't think it's strange since he will be driving.

He won't expect a young, seemingly weak person to try to kill him.

'I'll deceive and finish it.'

Just like he was deceived and drank the radioactive drink, ending his life.

He planned to finish it within the seven days he had, but he aimed to do it as soon as possible.

Since the only way for cars to enter and exit was through the side of the store, Nikolai hid nearby and watched the apartment and the entrance.

'Even if Putin only handled administrative tasks in the KGB, he must have received basic training, so I need to be careful.'

How much time had passed?

Looking at his wristwatch, it was 11:20 AM.

It was almost lunchtime, but Putin still hadn't shown up.

As time passed, despite being well-dressed, the cold started to seep in.

'-20°C, it's no joke.'

For the locals, -15°C is considered warm.

They would go out with their children in strollers, saying the weather was pleasant.

So -20°C was only slightly cold.

But for Nikolai, who had been a Korean until recently, this was a bitter cold he had never experienced, even during winter training.

Human endurance and concentration have limits.

By 4:00 PM, it was almost unbearable.

'I'm going crazy. I can't feel my toes.'

People are fickle.

Continuously exposed to the cold, his primary goal of killing Putin became secondary to the need to escape the cold.

'I should have brought a car. I might freeze to death first.'

Like when he was on night duty in the military during winter, all sorts of thoughts started to flood his mind.

'What will I do after I finish this? The only weapon I have is knowing how the world will change…'

The best way to use future information is to make money.

Investing in Russia and the world to make money.

Money is good, the more the better.

While money can't buy 100% happiness, it can buy 99%.

Thinking about sweeping up all the world's money, Nikolai couldn't help but smile.

His face, red like a ripe tomato from the cold, and a clear liquid running from his nose, but at that moment, he felt as warm as being in a sauna.

'But if Putin dies, Russia will take a different path from its original history.'

But it didn't matter.

He was in a much better position than those who knew nothing about the future.

The real problem was, 'How do I get the seed money?'

In the current Russia, to get the 'seed money,' he had no choice but to rely on his parents.

Then…

'I need to gain their approval first.'

While lost in various thoughts due to the -20°C, at 5:00 PM,

'Finally, he's here.'

Putin in his late 30s.

His hairline hadn't receded yet.

He was walking normally, hands swinging.

There was something unique about the way President Putin walked.

His left hand moved normally, but his right hand, as if he had a muscle disease, was pressed against his body and barely moved.

This was due to training received in the KGB to be ready to shoot at any time.

It was called the 'walk of the gunners.'

Even though he had retired from the KGB long ago, he still walked this way out of habit.

Putin only handled administrative tasks in the KGB and drove a taxi after the collapse of the Soviet Union.

He was far from the black agent people imagined.

Some believed he only showed the 'walk of the gunners' to use his KGB image politically.

'That's true. He has a natural talent for deception.'

Putin, in a 'Daewoo LeMans' car, idled the engine for about three minutes to warm it up.

Then he slowly drove out towards the entrance.

Nikolai, hiding near the entrance, quickly hailed a taxi to follow him.

Just as Putin's car was turning the corner and entering the road,

"Driver, please follow that red car. Without being noticed."

"…Understood."

"And the heater! The heater!"

"What?"

"Ah, the stove. Quickly, the stove."

"Is it a bit chilly today? I'll turn it up a bit."

A bit chilly at -20°C?

As the driver tried to raise the indoor temperature, they were stopped by a traffic light, but the car in front was also stopped.

"Is there something going on?"

"…Ah, well."

Suddenly asked, he couldn't think of anything to say but made an excuse.

"It's my father. He seems to be meeting another woman while leaving my mother…"

"Ah, so you're tailing him? Like in the movies, right?"

"Yes. So please follow carefully. I'll pay double. Don't lose him."

"Double? Ah, thank you. Don't worry. I used to prepare to join the KGB when I was young. Hold on tight, the road is slippery."

The driver's skillful driving, honed from preparing to join the KGB, shone even on the snowy road.

Thanks to this, Nikolai could easily follow Putin without losing him.

"Ah, I'm really sorry. Suddenly a truck… whoosh. The traffic light turned red just then. If I had been a second faster. What a shame."

"This C. Ha…."

Thinking about having to endure this cold again, he involuntarily let out a Korean curse, which he forced back down