Is there anything more futile than asking a child about their future hopes? It is because he changed countless times, crossing majors and occupations, such as being a president overnight, becoming a lawyer, a doctor, an astronaut, or a celebrity.
Kwon Taek-joo in his childhood was like that. Even when he entered the college entrance exam hall, he never thought that he would become an agent of the National Intelligence Service.
My brother was different. From the time he started talking in earnest, his dream was the same. To be a soldier like his father. Her mother, who said that he was relieved to pick up the book when he was on his first birthday, lamented, "Who knew it would be a military theory book?"
The mother didn't want her two sons to become soldiers or anything like that. My maternal grandfather, who prioritized country work over housework, and my military husband, whom I got through his introduction. Thanks to that, she said, her mother had no memory of sleeping on her feet for nearly sixty years of her life. On days when her father was out on an operation, her mother held her bloody brother in her arms and put her heart on edge all night. She would not have wanted to pass on such suffering to her children.
However, there are no children who follow the will of their parents. His older brother finally defied his mother's expectations. He volunteered to join the Navy and was killed in action. That was already ten years ago. It was then that her mother became obsessed with Kwon Taek-joo, who became her only son. As soon as her older brother's funeral was over, she grabbed Kwon Taek-joo and said, "You can't do it," and nailed it again and again. However, even Kwon Taek-joo could not grant her wish.
According to the National Intelligence Service's job regulations, the identity of an employee is kept secret. The same was true for immediate family members, including parents. Even if it wasn't for that reason, she couldn't honestly confide in her mother. He was a man who had lost his father, husband, and firstborn son to the country. If that wasn't enough, she wouldn't be able to stand it any longer if she knew that even the one remaining blood relative would use a gun knife more often than chopsticks. She thinks Kwon Taek-joo is a low-level civil servant in a small provincial town. Disguising her identity as Japanese, she had no idea that she was heading to Moscow.
I closed my eyes and recalled the past, then suddenly took out my phone. As expected, a message from her mother had arrived.
[Son, enjoy your lunch. good luck!]
It was a greeting that arrived around noon every day. If there was no reply, I got another call right after work. There were times when a phone call came in. It seemed that I should reply as soon as I landed. It was Monday, so there were a lot of complaints, so I was hectic. That would be enough. Now there was a den history that strengthened her mother's faith.
I put my phone back in and checked the time. It's been nine hours since I boarded the plane. Looking at the remaining distance on the monitor, it seemed that it would take about an hour to arrive.
At this point, I thought it would be a good idea to check the mask. got up right away. At that time, the bathroom was empty. As I was about to open the door and enter, I heard an unexpected hum. It was the economy class. I checked the situation with the curtains opened. A passenger and flight attendant were arguing. It seemed that someone else was free and drank a lot of alcohol. I quickly lost interest and went to the bathroom. As I locked the door, the overhead lights came on.
I look at the strange face reflected in the mirror. The current Kwon Taek-joo was Sakamoto Hiro, no matter who looked at it. Even the ears were covered in imitation of his. All that belonged to Kwon Taek-joo was black eyes.
I turned my head to and from, rubbing my skin. The texture of the artificial leather in my hand was just like my own skin. I brushed my hair and washed my hands. After wiping off the water with a paper towel, I was just about to head out. Suddenly something hit the back of the door. No matter how hard they collided, the ceiling lights all flashed. Soon, it got even more noisy outside. The voice of the flight attendant asking, "Are you okay?", the sound of running footsteps, and the yelling of a man who couldn't understand what he was talking about were all mixed.
I unlocked the lock and pulled the door open. Then the man who was leaning on the outside fell inside.
"Oh... What the fuck!"
The round man was slightly drunk. He was a typical Russian. He had a bottle of vodka in his hand. He seemed to have consumed duty-free alcohol on board. He said that he was a shameless man who drank until he got drunk, but the truth was a little higher than that.
I looked down at the man who was struggling for a while without saying a word. Only the flight attendants were in trouble.
"Customer. Wake up. I will hold you."
"What? Where do you dare to put your hand? Let go! Oh, let go!"
"Kyaaak!"
The man shoved the flight attendant who was trying to get me up. The flight attendant, as well as the other crew members, all looked embarrassed. It seemed that no one could subdue this big Russian right away. Even righteous passengers will help the flight attendants. It isn't very pleasant to go out on your own. While contemplating, a flight attendant hurriedly put the intercom into the cockpit.
Normally, when a disturbance of this kind occurs on board, the aircraft temporarily lands at the nearest airport. In that case, all passengers, including the drunk in question, must get off the plane. In addition, everything from baggage inspection to boarding procedures is carried out from scratch. Waiting for hours until the aircraft was refurbished or an alternative flight was arranged was the default.
Interfering in other people's business is a specification. I didn't want to do anything that would attract attention. However, it was only annoying that the original plan was disrupted by a person who did not know shame, and that he had to go through all the hassle.
I grabbed the back of the drunkard who was still leaning on my leg.
"Wake up for a minute."
"... Ugh!"
The man who was forced to stand up was dragged into the bathroom. The man was pushed forward, hitting his buttocks against the toilet bowl and knocking him forward. A low shriek erupted from the passengers as the fallen man's arm poked out the door. Those who were sitting in the front seats hurriedly stood up. The flight attendants repeatedly asked to sit down, but no one obeyed. Suddenly, calls began pouring in from all over the place.
A venom ran across the man's face as he stumbled up. The man laughed with a reddened face. The saliva on his mouth was also wiped off with the back of his hand.
"Oh my... Let's try this, right?"
He only snapped a finger at the wheezing man. The man who had been splitting the room suddenly hardened his expression and rushed at it. It was like an excited bison.
Kwon Taek-joo momentarily wrapped around the neck of the man who was about to crash into him and put it on his side. Suddenly, the man grabbed Kwon Taek-joo's legs with both arms and lifted him. He intended to ram it straight into the ceiling.
The crew members who were watching closed their eyes tightly. Suddenly, the surroundings become quiet. However, for some time, the predicted crash was not heard. Passengers who were far away rolled their eyes. The expected sound came after a while.
It wasn't Kwon Taek-joo that fell, it was his size. The hulking body that had been attacked in a vital spot by surprise was still hanging limp, holding its neck. Kwon Taek-joo had to subdue him completely before releasing his arm, which was his clamp. Then he kicked the stunner in the shoulder and pushed him out of the bathroom. Again suppressed screams erupted from the passengers. Either that or not, I brushed off my wrinkled jacket and walked out leisurely.
"Is there a problem?"
Around that time, the first officer who reported the situation appeared. He looked back and forth between his staggered figure and Kwon Taek-joo, then moved his gaze to the crew. Kwon Taek-joo returned to his place as if he did not know. click. The sound of belts being filled announced the end of the uproar.
Kwon Taek-joo returned to his place as if he did not know. click. The sound of belts being filled announced the end of the uproar.
The flight attendants, who had been busy dealing with drunken passengers, were now busy appeasing other passengers who raised complaints and objections. The position of the first officer was no different.
Sorry, guest.
Were you very surprised?
I'll bring you a glass of warm water.
You are now safe. Do not worry.
Sorry Sorry.
Behind the closed curtains, such words were heard over and over again. There was also an apology broadcast for the subsequent uproar.
I ignored it and tried to close my eyes, but the first officer and the secretary approached. It seemed like he was trying to express his gratitude for helping. broke and hit the player
"Can you get off on time?"
"Ah, unfortunately, it has already been reported to the control center. You must wait in the air until the airport permits you to land. The estimated time of arrival will also be delayed by about an hour."
Geary was like that. He wrinkled his brow and nodded his head dryly. Then I put on my headset. Despite the euphemistic refusal to talk, the two returned to their respective seats after expressing their sincere thanks.
Passengers who had been complaining until then became mixed as promised when the aircraft shook due to turbulence. Even if the flight attendant doesn't ask for it, he puts on his belt on his own and holds his breath while keeping his waist straight. Some even mumbled prayers.
Thanks to that, I was able to spend about an hour quietly. Her ears were dull and she could hardly close her eyes. As I was killing time, a sweet in-flight broadcast came out.
[In a moment, our plane will arrive at Domodedovo Airport in Moscow. The current local time is past 16:11. The weather is overcast with a lot of clouds, and the temperature is -13 degrees Celsius. We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience caused to passengers due to unexpected disturbances during flight operations. Thank you for using Japan Airlines today, and we look forward to serving you again soon. Goodbye to your final destination. Thank you.]
However, after the broadcast, the aircraft roamed the sky for some more time. It was past 5 pm when we landed on the ground. I followed the crowd and moved to the immigration checkpoint. I wasn't too nervous. Crossing the border disguised as someone else was so familiar that it was boring.
The examination was over in an instant. The employee only glanced at Kwon Taek-joo and did not ask any questions. Everything went smoothly, from getting to the arrivals hall to finding the luggage.
Outside the exit, people who had come to greet guests, family, and friends were camped out. Even though he had visited at the invitation of Russia, it was a day earlier than the main camp. Therefore, it was planned to move to the hotel without a separate pick-up.
But out of nowhere, a piece of paper with 'Sakamoto Hiro' written on it caught my eye. When I take off my sunglasses and look at it again, the name written once in Chinese characters and once again in English is correct. Below that, the company name 'Itochu Corporation' was also written.
When I stopped walking, the man holding the paper was very pleased.
"Miss Sakamoto?"
"Yes. By the way."
He answered somewhat hesitantly. A cheerful smile spreads across the man's face.
"Hello! My name is Vasily Alexandrovich, I work for Gazprom's Public Relations Office. I heard that she was entering the country first today and came out to receive her."
I ask for a handshake Kwon Taek-joo tilted his head as he looked at the hand stretched out in front of him.
"I didn't get that kind of contact... ."
"You didn't hear from me? Could it be? This morning, we guided you to your company. Your company also said that it would deliver the news to Mr. Sakamoto."
Vasily was confident with an expression of certainty. I wanted to take a moment and begged for understanding. Hurry up and check your work cell phone. I thought it would be a roaming message or an information message from the embassy or consulate because the text message kept coming in, but it was mixed with a message from Lim. As Vasily insisted, Gazprom would come to meet him.
"Ah... That's right."
"I guess there was a mistake? Anyway, you worked hard to come a long way. By the way, are you much later than expected?"
"There was a small commotion on board."
"Did any other drunken riots happen?"
"... How, with that?"
"Because it's common for Russian men as hot as vodka. You must have been very surprised. Is that the only burden? I will listen."
"It's okay. I will."
"Ah yes. Then this way."
Even when a favor is rejected, it does not flinch. On the contrary, he cheerfully took the lead as if something good was happening. I followed him slowly. I don't know where and how it got twisted, but thinking about it, it was natural. Whether with the headquarters or apart, the fact that Hiro Sakamoto is an honored guest does not change. Thanks to this, only Kwon Taek-joo was in trouble. I had to play Hiro Sakamoto until I arrived at the hotel.
A black sedan was waiting where Vasily arrived. A man came out of the driver's seat and nodded. Then he took Kwon Taek-joo's bag and put it in the trunk. Vasily personally opened the back seat door. I awkwardly crumpled my body into the extreme hospitality. When Vasily climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door, the sedan left the airport as if waiting.
My whole body was sore from the long flight. I sat back in the seat and closed my eyes for a moment. It was an unspoken sign to stop talking unnecessarily. But Vasily sat with his body half turned. \
"Are you very tired?"
"Because of the jet lag, a little."
When he reluctantly responds, he asks how the in-flight meal was, whether the seats were comfortable, and whether the flight attendants were good enough to look after him. He even poured out anecdotes he experienced on the plane. Kwon Taek-joo listened to them all with his head turned out the window.
It was already dark over the road. However, there was no crowd to enjoy the atmosphere of Moscow. Wherever I looked, I saw a Lada vehicle. Indeed, it deserves to be called the new national car of Russia. The combination of the Starbucks emblem located in the middle of the city and the Cyrillic alphabet drew attention. Some passers-by were wearing long or short shapkas. Their necks were all curled up, and their large protruding noses were flushed red. Perhaps because of the cold weather, the noodles hardened, giving off a stingy impression.
"Is the fort that cold?"
Vasily, who was talking about traveling in Japan, stops talking at the sudden question. He grinned, not disappointed that my story was cut off.
"I'm pretty good these days. Even in winter, it's around 15 degrees below zero. It's worth living."
The shoulders of the lever were drawn together. I hate being cold. Either way, Vasily chatted excitedly about the changed topic.
"Sometimes there are idiots who say they can't stand Moscow because it's too cold. Irkutsk or Verkhoyansk ranges from minus 20 degrees to 45 degrees. Compared to that, Moscow is no paradise on earth. Of course, it's not going to be in Tokyo. They say it maintains a temperature above freezing all year round, is that correct? If it falls below freezing, there will be people who freeze to death, right? If that happened in Russia, my neighbor's dog would laugh."
It's freezing cold down to minus 40 degrees. Just hearing the story made me shudder. Even after that, Vasily talked nonstop, but nothing came in properly.