Saint Petersburg.
In Russia, it is the second-largest city after Moscow and the fourth-largest in Europe, boasting a population of approximately five million. Nestled on an island, it has earned the moniker the "Venice of the North."
It used to be called Petrograd and Leningrad in the past, but in June 1991, it regained its former name. It's only been about six months since the name was restored.
"In around 20 years, there will be a Hyundai factory here."
As Nikolai stepped off at Saint Petersburg Station, a freezing cold of minus 20 degrees greeted him. He gazed at the distant sky.
"It's sunrise now. It was sunset when I left home."
In his mind, the sub-zero temperature burned like the scorching sun.
"Phew. I'm going to meet Putin in his late 30s."
Making a decision to harm someone is never an easy task for ordinary people. Nikolai would have never arrived at such a decision if it weren't for a deeply ingrained desire for revenge.
Shaking his head in confusion and adjusting his bag, someone spoke from behind, "Did you come from Moscow?"
...!
Nikolai's body tensed up in an instant as he heard the voice.
Memories of being unknowingly taken by the secret police in Moscow before he gained a new life flashed in his mind.
Except for his family, no one knows that he is here. "Who on earth could it be?"
In that fleeting moment, countless thoughts swirled through his mind like a typhoon.
He quickly surveyed the surroundings and noticed that even though it was early in the morning, many people were getting on and off the train.
It's not a remote place, but a train station where numerous people come and go. Nikolai managed to calm his heart and casually turned his head toward the source of the voice. A man in his late 30s, dressed in civilian clothes, was before him.
The man's stiff expression and imposing physique emanated a strong sense of intimidation. Nikolai's eyes narrowed slightly. "How do you know that I came from Moscow?"
The man awkwardly smiled in response, which didn't quite match his appearance.
"Ah, that? Most people who get off the night train are from Moscow. Did I make a mistake...? You'll take a taxi when you go out, won't you?"
"Well, yes..."
"Oh, I guessed it right then. There's fierce competition outside, so I came into the station to look for potential passengers."
*Cough* "So, you're a taxi driver."
At that moment, Nikolai felt tense toward the taxi hustler. It was like being caught with your pants down, as the popular saying goes.
"Yes, that's correct. I'm a local, so I know my way around. Why don't you hire my car?"
"Sure, why not."
After following the driver's guidance and coming out of the station, snowplows were already visible in the early morning. The snow piled up along the road every time a car passed by. Even with the change in the country, it seemed like clearing the snow was Russia's fate.
"It reminds me of the time when I was assigned to cover a story in Alaska."
We used to say, "Trash falls from the sky when it snows." Now, memories of those snowy days that can never be recaptured returned like softly floating cotton candy.
"Where are you heading?"
"Towards the 'Salvation Temple of Blood'."
"Huh?"
"Why do you say that?"
"My house is nearby."
"Well, that's convenient."
"But it's strange how you call it. Here, we call it the 'Church of the Resurrection of Christ'."
As Nikolai was about to step into the taxi after opening the door, a robust man approached and began to scold the driver openly.
"Hey, you! Did you pick up the passenger again?"
"Ah, sorry. I needed the money urgently."
"Hey! Who here doesn't need money?"
"I won't do this again next time. Just let me off this once."
"If you pull this again, I swear you'll regret it."
After clenching his fist tightly, he looked back. Four other men, equally sturdy, were sneering.
"Don't just make empty promises."
Then, he spat out saliva and returned to his car. If he were to get into a proper fight with those guys, he might end up dead.
"Oh, I'm sorry if I surprised you. I don't usually behave like this. You see, life has been really tough since the country changed."
"Still, be careful. It looked like you were ready to throw a punch for real."
"I have to be cautious. Nowadays, even the local mafia drives taxis, and if you hit someone by mistake, they might really beat you up. There are also guys demanding protection money."
This driver wasn't much different from the first driver he met. Throughout the journey toward the destination, he enthusiastically explained the famous places in the city. Eventually, he shifted the topic and started asking about Nikolai's personal life.
"It's quite impressive for a young man like you to travel in such chaotic times."
"Oh, yes. By the way, why are those people standing in line?"
"They seem to be waiting to buy bread at the state store. Nowadays, things are so scarce that people must line up for hours to buy basic necessities. Prices keep rising, and the country is going through tough times."
This is just the beginning. Inflation will continue to soar without any signs of stopping. The value of the currency will keep on dropping. These economic shocks will persist for six years.
Then, in 1998, Russia declared a moratorium (deferment of payment, similar to Korea's IMF), ending the "seven years of capitalism" experiment following the 70-year socialist era.
Ultimately, the Russian people will continue to suffer for at least the next 10 years. These 10 years will be a time of pain for the Russian citizens, but for Nikolai, it will be a time of opportunity for growth.
"You mentioned that the place is around here. Where should I drop you off?"
"Just pull over by the traffic light over there."
The driver went beyond the original fare and added a little extra. "Have a good trip."
Nikolai wrapped himself in an original mink scarf, black leather gloves, and earmuffs, then started walking towards the address he had memorized. Putin's house was a five-story apartment building painted in blue, visible just past the intersection. Despite the early morning hours, the streets were deserted as schools were on a temporary break; still, there were quite a few cars. Arriving at the apartment, Nikolai confirmed no one was around and checked the mailbox.
"This must be the place."
Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin—his name was clearly written on the mail for apartment 304. After confirming it was indeed his house, Nikolai decided to wait outside for now.
Though it was cold, he dressed warmly enough to endure it. He bought three 500ml drinks from a nearby store, drinking one now and saving the other two for later.
"If I put what I prepared into the drink, it should be inconspicuous. IT WILL BE DONE when I offer him one while drinking the other."
He knew there would be no suspicion since he would be driving. Being a young man who appeared harmless and weak, Putin would never dream that this person would kill him. "I'll deceive him and finish it."
Just like he was deceived and drank the poisoned tea. Although he had planned for a 7-day schedule, he intended to complete everything within that time frame.
The path where cars passed by was just beside the shopping district, so Nikolai hid nearby, keeping a close watch on the apartment and the entrance.
"Even if Putin only dealt with administrative tasks within the KGB, he must have received basic training, so I need to be extremely cautious."
How much time had passed? Checking his wristwatch, it was 11:20 in the morning. Even during lunchtime, there was no sign of him appearing.
Despite being thickly dressed, the chill began to set in as time went by. "Minus 20 degrees is really no joke."
For the people here, minus 15 degrees was considered a warm winter day. They would take their children out for a stroll in a baby stroller, saying it had warmed up. So, minus 20 degrees felt only a little chilly to them.
However, for him, who had been an American until not long ago, this weather was colder than anything he had experienced, even during harsh winter while covering the news. There are limits to human endurance and concentration. After 4 PM, it became increasingly difficult to endure.
"Ah, this is insane. I can't feel my toes."
Being constantly exposed to the cold made him feel the urgency to escape from this extreme cold more than achieving his life's goal.
"I should have just driven here. At this rate, I'll freeze to death before something happens."
Various thoughts started to flood his mind, like when he did night guard duty while staking outside and waiting for the subject of his report.
"What will I do after I finish this? I have weapons that know how the future will change...?"
The best way to utilize future information is by earning money. Investing not only in Russia but all over the world to make money. The more money, the better. While money may not buy 100% happiness, it can probably buy 99%. Thinking about amassing wealth from all over the world, Nikolai couldn't help but smile.
His face turned red as a ripe tomato in the cold, and transparent liquid dripped from his nose. However, strangely, he felt warm, like being in a sauna.
"But if Putin dies, Russia will follow a different course from its original history."
But that didn't matter. After all, he was in a far more advantageous position than those who knew nothing about the future. The real problem was how to secure "seed money."
In today's Russia, he had no choice but to rely on his parents' support to gather the "initial funds." So, he needed to gain recognition within his household first.
Amidst various thoughts due to the side effects of minus 20 degrees, the clock struck 5 PM, and finally, "He appeared."
As Nikolai waited in the freezing cold, he observed Putin, who is currently in his late 30s. His receding hairline had not progressed much. But as an ordinary person, he was walking while waving both hands. However, there was something peculiar about how President Putin walked on videos. His left hand moved normally, but his right hand almost stuck to his body, as if he had some muscle disease, hardly moving. This was a result of the "step of gunmen" training he received as a KGB undercover agent, where they were trained to be ready to shoot at any moment. Even though he had retired from the KGB long ago, old habits die hard, and he still walked like that.
Putin had only dealt with administrative tasks within the KGB and even drove a taxi shortly after the collapse of the Soviet Union. He was a figure far from the black-clad agents that people usually think of. Some believed that him showing the "step of gunmen" was merely a political use of his KGB image.
"That statement was true. He was born with the talent for deception."
Eventually, Putin got into the "Daewoo LeMans" car parked somewhere and revved the engine for about three minutes to warm it up. Then, he slowly drove the car toward the exit.
Nikolai, who had been hiding near the exit, quickly flagged down a taxi to follow him. Just as Putin's car turned the corner and entered the road, he said, "Follow that red car. Don't let him notice us."
"Sure."
"And the heater! Turn on the heater!"
"Yes?"
"Oh, Peschka (fish), turn it up quickly."
"It's a little chilly today, right? I'll turn it up a bit for you."
Minus 20 degrees a little chilly? Just as the driver was about to increase the indoor temperature, they hit a traffic signal, and the car in front stopped as well.
"But what's the matter?"
"Um, well..."
With that sudden question, he couldn't come up with anything to say, but he quickly made up a suitable excuse.
"He's my father. I think he's meeting another woman, leaving my mother behind..."
"Oh, so you're tailing him? Like in a movie or something?"
"Yes, so please follow him carefully. I'll pay you double. You must not lose him."
"Double? Oh, thank you. Don't worry. Even when I was younger, I was preparing to join the KGB, so I knew a thing or two about keeping up. The road is slippery, so hold on tight."
The driver's skillful driving on the snow-covered road was impressive. Thanks to him, Nikolai was able to keep up with Putin without much difficulty.
"Oh, I'm really sorry. Suddenly, there was a truck at that moment... Cough. And the traffic light changed so quickly. If it had been just 1 second earlier... It's a shame."
"This... Haah..."
Nikolai sighed, suppressing the urge to swear in American slang as the thought of experiencing this cold again crossed his mind.