Free Web NovelThe ones who ensured Yeltsin’s reelection were the oligarchs.
It was a textbook demonstration of media power. Controlling TV and newspapers, they only broadcasted bleak images from the Communist era while suppressing anything negative about the post-democratization period.
I wondered what kind of man Berezovsky would be as we drove.
Soon, the Kremlin came into view in the distance.
The car that had been speeding along came to a stop in front of a hotel.
“Please wait here a moment.”
Though we’d arrived, Igor stepped out first.
He exchanged a few words with the armed guards stationed outside the hotel, and then the mercenaries in the following car got out.
“You may step out now.” freeweɓnovel.cѳm
Igor opened the door to the backseat for me.
As I exited, I asked him,
“Are hotel guards usually armed here too?”
“In Russia, it’s standard practice.”
Apparently, Russia’s public safety wasn’t exactly comforting.
As soon as I stepped out, the mercenaries formed a tight perimeter around me.
“Once we’re inside, you can relax. Even the Red Mafia won’t enter a hotel like this—especially not one owned by an oligarch.”
Flanked by mercenaries on both sides, I entered the hotel.
Upon reaching the lobby, the mercenaries surrounding me stepped back.
“The meeting will take place in Berezovsky’s office on the top floor. Half of us will remain here. The other half will escort us to the floor. Only you, me, and Black will enter the room.”
More security than when I went to meet U.S. Treasury Secretary Rubin.
I let out a scoff of disbelief.
We rode the private elevator to the top floor.
No sooner had the doors opened than Berezovsky’s guards started patting down the mercenaries.
“Only the three of us are entering.”
When Igor explained this in Russian, one of Berezovsky’s head bodyguards raised his hand.
“Go on in. If it’s you, Igor, the chairman won’t object.”
The guards and mercenaries glared at each other, but I walked calmly between them.
Our guide knocked on the door at the end of the hallway.
“Chairman, Igor has arrived.”
“Let him in.”
We passed through the door he opened.
A balding middle-aged man stood up and approached.
“Oh! Igor. How long has it been? I heard you joined an American mercenary company. What brings you back to Russia?”
“It’s been a while, Chairman.”
“Hahaha! Right, right. The life you saved is still ticking along. Did you come to check on it?”
Berezovsky and Igor seemed closer than I’d expected.
Only after finishing his greeting with Igor did Berezovsky turn his curious eyes on me.
“Hello, Chairman. I’m Kim Muhyuk.”
I spoke first with a smile—in perfect Russian.
“You’re the owner of Black Bear? Quite a young man. Or is that rude to say? I can never tell with East Asians.”
“Not at all. I’m still in my twenties.”
Berezovsky’s eyes widened slightly, and he laughed as he grasped my hand.
“Haha! Even younger than I thought. So, I hear you wanted to meet me through Igor.”
“I’d like to start doing business in Russia, but for that, I believe I’ll need permission from the oligarchs.”
“Your Russian is quite good. Have a seat—if it’s business, I’m always listening.”
He motioned toward the sofa and sat first, taking the main seat without hesitation.
Igor stood behind me, and Manager Ma sat beside me.
Berezovsky’s friendly smile quickly transformed into the face of a seasoned businessman.
“I agreed to meet you because I owe Igor my life. But what kind of business do you want to discuss? Let’s hear it.”
Russia’s economic crisis hadn’t touched the oligarchs at all.
They had already funneled massive amounts of domestic capital overseas, so whether the ruble collapsed or the economy crumbled, they remained unaffected.
“I’d like to negotiate with the government. I was hoping you could act as a bridge.”
In the U.S., thanks to Dreamhigh, I had ties with Washington’s political circles and the titans of Wall Street.
But in Russia, I had no foundation. I’d decided to use the oligarchs as my starting point.
“I see...”
Berezovsky didn’t look convinced.
‘He’s probably calculating what’s in it for him.’
I smiled as if I didn’t notice and waited.
Soon, Berezovsky spoke.
“I don’t trust American investors.”
“I’m aware.”
Given what U.S. investors had done in Russia, there was no way he could feel friendly toward them.
J.P. Morgan and other Wall Street banks had zero concern for Russia’s fate so long as they profited.
The Russian government, in desperate need of investment, had no choice but to accept their offers. Many Russian companies had gone public on the New York Stock Exchange.
Now, their shares were trading at 10–20% of their IPO price—if they traded at all.
Behind this was a cozy relationship between the oligarchs and U.S. investment banks.
‘What a joke. The guy who brought in the Americans and profited the most is pretending to be a patriot now.’
I couldn’t stand him—but I couldn’t show it.
“I’m not like the old men on Wall Street. I plan to grow together with Russia. I don’t intend to suck it dry and run.”
Russia was a place worth investing in long term. With vast natural resources and strong military power, it could become a reliable backbone for me.
The Yeltsin era was nearing its end. Soon, Putin would rise.
“And why should I trust you?”
Berezovsky wasn’t easy to win over.
Without losing my composure, I responded directly.
“What would it take for you to trust me?”
“You’re the one trying to convince me. What’s the point if I tell you how to do it?”
A foxlike old man.
Careful not to reveal anything prematurely.
“I’ll attach your name to every business I conduct in Russia. I’ll also guarantee you a stake.”
It was a dirty move, but necessary—for now, to build a bridge to Putin.
“Now you’re ready for a proper conversation. Hahaha. A young man who knows how to place bets. Right, Igor?”
Behind me, Igor just bowed without answering.
“Still no fun, that one.”
Shaking his head, Berezovsky turned back to me.
“Now, who would you like me to introduce? The Prime Minister? Yeltsin? Though, sadly, his health isn’t great these days.”
He boasted that he could introduce anyone I wanted.
“Putin. He’s the current director of the FSB.”
“Hm? Putin? He has nothing to do with economics. He won’t be of any help.”
As expected, he didn’t understand my reasoning.
“I don’t exactly do everything above board. I’ll need the FSB’s cooperation. Is that difficult?”
When I asked provocatively, Berezovsky burst into laughter.
“Hahaha, this guy... Putin? Of course I know him. Fine, I’ll introduce you. Would the President’s daughter and his chief of staff be good enough, too?”
“Thank you.”
“Wait a moment.”
He picked up the phone and dialed somewhere.
“Yes, Vladimir? It’s Boris.”
The call was short—just a few minutes—but when Berezovsky hung up, he grinned at me smugly.
“He said you can meet him at his house this evening.”
“Thank you.”
At last, I’d built my bridge to Putin in Russia.
“Let’s have lunch. Igor, you too.”
Igor looked at me for approval. I nodded and replied,
“I’d appreciate a recommendation for good Russian food. It’s my first time trying it.”
“Russian food? Please. I don’t even eat that stuff. But the hotel’s French chef is amazing. I’ll treat you to that instead.”
Berezovsky got up and led the way.
That evening, as promised, I headed to Putin’s residence.
Looking over at Igor in the passenger seat, I asked,
“Igor.”
“Yes, Boss?”
“You seem pretty close with Berezovsky.”
He turned to face me.
“I helped him once while I was in the military. After the Soviet collapse and my retirement, he offered me a job under him. But I wanted to leave Russia.”
“Hm. Must not have been easy coming to America as a Russian soldier.”
“That’s all in the past. Thanks to meeting Eric, I joined Black Bear.”
I nodded and smiled.
“So, in the end, we came full circle—back to Russia.”
“Russia is still my homeland. But I have no desire to work under the oligarchs. Their greed is too revolting.”
“What about me, then?”
“I’m a soldier. Now a mercenary. I follow orders from the company I belong to. I don’t judge.”
I liked that about Igor.
“Do you know Putin?”
“I’ve heard his name, but never met him. KGB and the Soviet military weren’t exactly best friends.”
Somehow, infighting between government agencies existed everywhere.
After another thirty minutes of driving, we arrived at Putin’s home.
Igor got out first and exchanged a few words with him, then returned to the car.
From the way he looked through the window, I could tell something was off.
“He wants to meet alone.”
“Fine by me.”
“It might be dangerous. You know the KGB’s reputation as well as anyone.”
“If he wanted to do something to me, he wouldn’t invite me to his home.”
Igor’s concern was natural, but I knew Putin better than anyone.
I stepped out and patted Igor’s shoulder a few times.
“Manager Ma, stay here as well.”
If Putin wanted to talk one-on-one, it meant he already had a read on me.
“But—”
Manager Ma wore the same uneasy expression as Igor.
I answered both of them with a grin and walked toward Putin.
“Putin? It’s a pleasure. I’m Kim Muhyuk.”
“Vladimir Putin. Welcome.”
And just like that, I entered Putin’s home alone.
The door closed behind me. No one else was inside.
He led me to the dining table and motioned for me to sit.
“Do you mind tea?”
They say never accept Putin’s tea...
“Coffee, please.”
“That’s a shame. I had a good blend ready.”
I smiled bitterly inside.
Soon, he brought out two cups—coffee for me, tea for him—and ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) took the seat across from me.
“I can’t guarantee it’ll taste good.”
“Thank you anyway.”
Even so, I wasn’t going to drink his tea.
Coffee made by Putin, huh...
I took a sip and set the cup down.
Putin, sipping his tea, looked straight at me.
“What is it you came to see me for? Surely the owner of Dreamhigh and Black Bear didn’t fly all the way to Russia just to meet me.”
As expected from the FSB director—
He already knew who I was.
