Chapter 1: Transmigration/ Top Contributor C-bar (Thank you)
"Are you Mr. Daniel Mitchell, the journalist from the US?"
As Daniel headed towards the Moscow hotel, carrying his camera, he turned his body curiously upon hearing a voice from behind. "Yes. But... who are you?"
"I think you should come with us to the police station. This will be quick."
"May I ask what this is about? It's quite late at night,"
"You will find out all the details once we are there. Please, come with us,"
Two police officers, whose size could rival that of UFC heavyweight fighters, approached him, their smiles looking more like grimaces. No one in Russia knew him. Besides, who would willingly follow them when they come out so forcefully?
Moreover, he couldn't simply comply without notifying someone or seeking assistance.
Daniel took a step back, contemplating his escape plan to sort things out later, but before he could react, he found himself surrounded by additional officers, effectively blocking any chance of evading their grasp.
"Ugh."
In the blink of an eye, a cloth was forcefully pressed against his mouth, cutting off his breath.
As the world spun before his eyes, consciousness slipped away, and he succumbed to darkness. The police officers swiftly loaded him into their car and plowed through the snow, their destination unknown.
Chaaah-
"Ugh...!"
Daniel regained consciousness from the chilling baptism of cold water. It shocked him back to awareness. The musty scent of the damp basement invaded his nostrils, adding to the disorienting atmosphere.
Looking around, he found himself confined in a dimly lit room illuminated only by one incandescent lightbulb hanging from above. It had the atmosphere of a newsroom he had seen often on TV.
Standing before him, the police officer he had seen before wore a sinister smirk while watching him.
"Feeling more awake now, Mr. Mitchell?"
"Why are you doing this to me? Is it even legal to detain a foreigner like this?"
"Mr. Daniel Mitchell, you must be failing to grasp the seriousness of the situation? Do you honestly believe we just randomly picked you up with no valid reason?"
"I don't understand what you're trying to tell me."
The police officer let out a sigh, disappointment etched on his features.
"I had expected better from someone in your profession. Journalists are usually quick-witted, or so I thought."
*They know my name. That I'm a journalist. Seeing as the police didn't forcibly apprehend me…*
"You, you're not a police officer?"
"You should hope that I am a police officer. Or else... hehehe."
Daniel sensed that the man was evading the fact that he was a police officer. If he wasn't a police officer, then who could he be? Russian mafia? Gangsters? Skinheads? Or... He swallowed a dry gulp.
"Stay calm. Losing control won't help me in this situation."
He quickly pondered why he was brought here. And then he realized one thing. "Ah, is it because of that? Then, was that true?"
As if he could read Daniel's thoughts, the man spoke again. "You've figured it out, haven't you?"
"Is this about the secret dealings of Russian arms manufacturers?"
"Now you understand the gravity of the situation."
"I happened to come across it while covering arms manufacturers. It wasn't something I intentionally uncovered."
"Do you expect me to believe your words?"
"Aren't you overestimating the abilities of a journalist from the Department of Health and Human Services?"
The man's expression shifted, confusion evident in his eyes "...?"
"Believe me. I just happened to stumble upon it. And it was just two days ago. I haven't had time to confirm it yet."
His words held a ring of truth. It was such a significant incident that he had kept it to himself until he found solid evidence.
"Who else knows about it?"
The man's red eyes glimmered in the lightbulb glow, like the gaze of a prosecutor looking at a clearly exposed criminal. How should he respond? Should he resort to deception? His colleagues are already aware of the situation. Or should he tell the truth? Only he knew.
What should I say to safely leave this place? Daniel swiftly organized his thoughts and devised the most suitable response for survival.
"I'm the only one who knows. My colleagues are still unaware, and I intend to keep it that way."
The thought that he could escape if his colleagues also knew was a misconception. In times like this, it's important to give the impression that the secret has not leaked.
They prioritize protecting the secrets of someone higher than human life. Daniel silently prayed, his heart filled with uncertainty, hoping his choice was correct as he looked at the man's face.
"You're lucky. Looks like the heavens are favoring you."
Daniel breathed a sigh of relief. Indeed, his choice was right.
"About the files. They're not just stored in your head, right? Where did you put them? They weren't on your camera or phone."
"I saved them in my email."
"Email? Then you should be able to access them on your phone. Open it now."
Understanding the importance of establishing trust, Daniel opened his email and showed the hidden files. "Here they are."
"Excellent. Now I need you to provide your name, email ID and password, resident registration number, and phone number."
Daniel took the paper and pen offered to him, quickly jotting down the information before handing it over.
As the man briefly looked at the paper, another man dressed as a police officer entered after the press of the intercom button.
"Completely erase these and bring me something to drink."
It meant that he would completely wipe out his online accounts, preventing any possibility of recovering the files. The man who took Daniel's phone and the paper left and returned with two cups of tea.
He whispered something to the man before leaving.
The man, with a cigarette between his fingers, asked, "Do you smoke?"
"No, I don't," Daniel replied
"I'm quite envious," the man commented. "Anyway, when you return, leave your luggage as it is and move to a different hotel. If everything seems fine, they will arrange the transfer for you."
"..."
Although it was uncertain whether the man would return the luggage properly, in the current situation, he felt compelled to nod in agreement. The man took a drag of his cigarette and spoke again. "Did you come to Russia by taking a ship from the Far East Sea?"
"Yes."
"Then you must be aware that even during times of war, Russians can board ships without visas."
"..."
"Let's keep things simple. If you try to hide or play around, things will get complicated. You have to think about your family too, right?"
The man's eyes flashed again. It was an implicit threat, suggesting that any attempts to deceive or resist would only endanger him and his family.
"But there's no need to be too scared. Even in the midst of a war, we won't go that far."
His words lack credibility. Perhaps thinking that everything was over, the man asked a personal question. "Where did you learn Russian?"
"My mom was Russian."
"She obtained US citizenship after marriage." The man deduced, drawing upon Daniel's distinct American feature.
He had studied Russian history deeply through his mother since he was young. He had also conducted extensive research on Putin's era before arriving. Thanks to that, he knew many details that even Russians themselves didn't know.
"If I were to close my eyes and listen, I could easily mistake you for a native Russian. There must be a reason you arrived here as a correspondent from Russia."
Daniel, considering it a matter of life and death, carefully observed the man's expression, keeping him on the edge.
"Let's have a cup of tea before we part ways. We might not see each other again."
A tea exuded an aroma similar to coffee, its hue bearing a light greenish tint.
As he reached out his hand towards the teacup from which wisps of smoke rose, he hesitated for a moment due to a sudden thought. "Is there something mixed into it? Is it related to the news?"
"Not necessarily... It's just..."
Daniel's noncommittal response inadvertently confirmed the man's suspicion that something might have been mixed into the tea.
"Oh, come on. It's not cheap enough to resort to that with someone like you. It's not poisonous."
The man chuckled and drank the tea first. After all, what could he do? Even someone as esteemed as Putin wouldn't go to such lengths to kill me.
Since he had already handed over all the evidence, his tension eased, and he took a few sips to quench his thirst.
"I'll prepare the ticket for you here. Next Tuesday, depart from Vladivostok by ship and enter the US."
Feeling relatively calmer than before, Daniel rose from his seat and asked, "There's one thing I'd like to know."
"Ask away."
"I don't think you're a police officer. Where are you from? I won't reveal this information either."
"You should think about why you were caught."
It all came down to Daniel possessing knowledge he shouldn't have had.
"Now that you're telling me to go peacefully, I suppose there's no reason for me to be scared anymore? You did mention I should think about my family."
"..."
"Don't try to know too much. Especially not here in Russia. Just go."
He knew they wouldn't tell him anyway. Discarding any lingering thoughts, he was about to open the door when the man suddenly blurted out, "You'll find out soon enough."
With the man's cryptic words hanging in the air, he was able to return to the hotel with his vision obscured.
A few days later.
Uuuung-
Daniel looked out at the Vladivostok port, which was getting farther away as he boarded the ship. "I'll return to Russia again."
With that determination, a month later.
"It has been determined that the cause of death was radiation exposure."
"Ugh! Aaargh!"
Every inch of his body was contaminated with radiation. It was in the tea they had drunk together. No, it was only in the tea he had drunk.
The moment when he remembered what the man had said came to mind. It wasn't poison. He hadn't ingested poison, just radiation.
"That bastard who orchestrated my death. I will exact revenge even if it means pursuing justice in the afterlife."
On a day in December when the war between Russia and Ukraine was ongoing, Daniel closed his eyes while tightly holding a newspaper. Tears that resembled the last droplets of dew were formed in the corners of his eyes.
The midday sunlight seeped through the window, gently teasing his eyes. If only the window were open, the cacophony of thousands of voices and blaring car horns from outside would flood his ears. Daniel sat up, disoriented. "What... what's happening?"
Nervously pushing away the blanket and getting up, he turned his head and was startled. "Ugh. Why are you like this? Let's sleep a little longer. You kept me up late last night, and I couldn't even let out a sigh because of your late slumber."
He clearly remembered writhing in agony after drinking that infamous radioactive tea and dying. His last words are, "I will exact revenge even if I have to go to the afterlife."
But now, as he looked beside him, a blonde woman lay comfortably with her back exposed. Carefully getting off the bed, he made his way to the bathroom.
'Is this... my appearance?'
Staring into the mirror, Daniel beheld not the face of a sturdy American man in his thirties but that of a weary-looking Caucasian man with blonde hair and blue eyes. Perhaps due to fatigue or pain, his eyes looked droopy.
He had a tall and skinny physique. He washed his face hastily, unable to distinguish whether it was a dream or reality. Yet his reflection in the mirror remained unchanged.
He slapped his cheeks several times and forcefully bent his fingers backward. He even bit his tongue hard. As if that wasn't enough, he lightly nicked the tip of his finger with a razor, but all he felt was a stinging pain- the outcome was the same.
'This is definitely not a dream...'
He opened the window wide with trembling hands.
In the distance, a red square came into view. There were numerous people holding banners emblazoned with inscriptions. The cars passing by honked their horns as if cheering them on.
Daniel absentmindedly watched the scene for a moment before sitting in front of the TV. His face was faintly reflected on the dark screen with a gold star mark at the bottom. However, now was not the time to think about that.
He quickly turned on the TV... "As of December 26, 1991, the Soviet Union, which had lasted for 70 years, has been dissolved, announcing the birth of Russia. Starting from today..."
Mikhail Gorbachev, the General Secretary, with his distinctive swept-back front hair, pushed back, appeared on the screen. "1991? The Soviet Union? Russia?"
They say that when something unbelievable happens to a person, they are left utterly speechless. That was precisely how he felt now. He couldn't comprehend the situation at all.
Then, suddenly, an incomprehensible flood of information rushed into his mind. "Ugh! Uh-uh-uh."
And suddenly, he understood the current situation. He had been reincarnated on December 26, 1991, the day after Christmas, when the Soviet Union collapsed and the country's name changed to Russia.
Now, he resided within the body of the second son, a twenty-one-year-old member of a prestigious family.