Free Web NovelHan Kyungyeong’s firm declaration—that there was no room for negotiation—dropped over the meeting room like a lead weight.
Everyone fell silent... everyone except one man.
Only Andrei burst out in anger.
“Is that Dreamhigh’s official answer? We aren’t willing to concede even one dollar either!”
“If neither side can concede, then the negotiation is over. We only wasted time. Advisor Andrei, are you saying your words represent the Kremlin’s official position?”
“Yes. This is our government’s official—”
That was when Medvedev, who had been quietly listening, finally opened his mouth.
“Andrei.”
At the sound of his name, Andrei froze mid-sentence and turned toward him.
“Since when did your words become the Kremlin’s official stance? Are you the President? Or did he hand over authority to you without my knowledge? Answer.”
The atmosphere shifted in an instant.
The ice-cold tone seemed to freeze the entire room.
Under the chilling pressure, Andrei faltered, unable to speak.
“Why so quiet? I thought for a moment you were someone who represents the government.”
Medvedev finished speaking with a gentle smile.
But only a fool would miss the blade hidden behind it. And Andrei was that fool.
“N-No, it’s just... Dreamhigh said they won’t concede first, so we also should be firm—”
“Oh? And what authority do you have to overturn this negotiation? No one here—not you, not anyone else in this room—has the power to overturn it. Only one person does. Am I wrong?”
“N-No, sir. You’re correct.”
Medvedev’s tone was calm.
That only made it more terrifying.
Cold sweat trickled down Andrei’s spine.
“I’ve heard you said something similar a few days ago. Something about how state pressure on corporations can bring disaster?”
“...”
“You criticized the ‘extremely incompetent interference of the Russian authorities,’ did you not? But look at what you just did—you claim the government must not intervene, yet you are trying to lead the sale? Isn’t this sale under Minister Viktor’s authority?”
Medvedev tapped Viktor’s shoulder lightly. Viktor forced out a strained smile.
“But regarding the sale of Yugansk—our economic experts believe it must be kept within Russia. You must accept critical viewpoints if Russia is to have a future. You shouldn’t reject them outright.”
Medvedev nodded.
“Yes, criticism is fine. But accepting or rejecting it is the President’s job. Your role is to advise. Do not overstep. This is a warning. You think I don’t know about your little alliance with the siloviki? Don’t be foolish.”
A shiver ran down Andrei’s spine.
The blood drained from his face.
Being caught conspiring with the siloviki was effectively a death sentence.
They wanted him to sabotage the negotiation—they wanted Yukos nationalized.
Seeing Andrei go pale, Medvedev looked around the room and spoke.
“Let’s end today’s session here. We will resume negotiations tomorrow.”
“Yes, that sounds good. Things overheated. Let’s all cool off and meet again tomorrow.”
Viktor, speaking for the officials, began gathering the papers on the table.
“The Yukos executives as well—we’ll meet here again tomorrow. No objections?”
“...None.”
Medvedev, as if simply informing them rather than asking, turned to Han.
“President James. Shall we have dinner together? Would that be alright?”
Han nodded and signaled to his staff.
“Return to the hotel first.”
The Dreamhigh team and the Russian officials all exited.
“Let’s go as well.”
Han followed Medvedev out of Yukos headquarters.
* * *
“Hey! It’s already midday! Get up.”
Someone was shaking me violently during what had been a very peaceful sleep.
“Look at this stench of alcohol. Your friend is suffering over there, and you’re passed out drunk? You bastard.”
That finally woke me. Through bleary eyes, I saw the face of the person shaking me—Myeong-su, scowling.
When I opened my eyes, he yanked the curtains wide open.
Blinding sunlight flooded the room. I winced and asked:
“Hey, Myeong-su... what time is it?”
“Two. Two o’clock. Are you getting up or not?”
He even smacked my back to force me upright.
“Give me some water. I’m dying.”
Drinking and sleeping had left my throat like sandpaper.
Myeong-su pouted but tossed me a bottle of water from the table.
“Wash up. We need to eat and move.”
Only after I emptied the bottle in one go did I feel remotely alive.
I checked the clock—it really was two in the afternoon.
“When did you get here?”
“Just now. I called you, but Chief Ma answered. So I headed here immediately. I’m starving. Hurry up and wash. Hey, you brought any ramen? What’s wrong with London food? Why is it so tasteless?”
I nodded and got out of bed.
“The security team must’ve brought some. And rule number one in ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ England: never go to an English restaurant. Always pick a place with a French chef.”
“Is that so? Like I’d know? I just went where they dragged me.”
“Did everything go well?”
Halfway into the bathroom, I asked. Myeong-su smirked.
“Wash first and I’ll tell you. I’ll boil the water. You shower. Hey, can we even cook here?”
“Probably? Ask Chief Ma. If it’s impossible, he’ll make it possible.”
“Alright. Just wash. I’ll be outside.”
He stepped out. I went straight into the bathroom.
A cool shower helped clear my head.
When I came out dressed comfortably, the air was filled with the sharp, spicy scent of ramen.
“So cooking is allowed?”
“Yep. Come on. Got it ready just in time. Chief Ma asked and got permission. Well, it’s a suite—would’ve been weird if we couldn’t cook with these prices.”
He set a large pot on the table.
“Whew, smells amazing. Sobers me up immediately.”
I laughed and sat down.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had your ramen.”
“Quit talking crap. Eat. I’m starving.”
He opened the lid; steam and fragrance rose like a blessing.
Hungover ramen is one of the greatest joys known to mankind.
I quickly took a sip of broth. The spicy heat soothed my insides at once.
“Good?”
“Yeah. You cook it right. The broth is perfect.”
Satisfied with the praise, he nodded.
Then the door opened—Chief Ma walked in with a container of kimchi.
“Oh, Chief Ma!”
Myeong-su practically cheered. It was clear he was happier about the kimchi than the man carrying it.
“Sir, did you eat?”
“Yes, with the staff earlier.”
He set down the kimchi and bowed before leaving.
We devoured the ramen in silence. Four servings—gone immediately.
“Strange, isn’t it? Ramen tastes different overseas.”
Myeong-su sighed happily, patting his stomach. I chuckled and nodded.
“They say you become a patriot when you go abroad.”
“Coffee?”
Of course. I nodded.
“Let’s talk about yesterday while we drink.”
He somehow had managed to procure instant coffee mix. We sat on the sofa with paper cups.
“What’d you talk about? Did things go smoothly?”
“Oh, delivered the President’s letter, talked with the PM, went fine.”
“No major issues?”
“All pre-coordinated. It was just a formality. That’s why I could fly here. My real headache is the U.S. The President’s U.S. schedule overlaps with backstage negotiations. The number of events is insane. The schedule is just...”
He started grumbling.
Fair enough—working with the U.S. was always complicated.
I just sipped my coffee, amused.
“You thought the President’s special envoy was going on vacation?” freewēbnoveℓ.com
“No, but still. It’s a one-week schedule, and there’s not a single free day!”
He kept complaining.
And yet, when the time came to work, he’d perform flawlessly. That’s who Myeong-su was.
So I just let him vent and smiled quietly.
“The key topics are North Korea and troop deployment to Iraq, right? You also stopped by the UK because of that?”
The Iraq War had officially ended, but the U.S. had requested South Korean troops as peacekeeping forces.
“We already sent engineering and medical support units, but the U.S. wants combat troops. We’re against that. But refusing might make the U.S. step back on the North Korea nuclear issue. It’s messy.”
In the original timeline, combat troops were dispatched.
That flow was inevitable.
“We have no choice, right? The Blue House stance is leaning that way too.”
Myeong-su frowned, crushing his paper cup.
“Yeah. I still don’t know why young soldiers must be sent to a battlefield. Whether it’s right or wrong. Even the media is reporting negativity...”
“Conservative media still supports it, don’t they?”
“They’re split too. Some strongly support it, some oppose. The progressive outlets—well, you know.”
I couldn’t fix this either.
You couldn’t gag the media without consequences.
And the nation was laser-focused on the combat troop issue.
The only silver lining was that, unlike the original history where the U.S. invaded without UN approval, this time the operation had UN legitimacy.
That had softened anti-war sentiment a little.
“It’ll bring more benefit than harm, but still...”
Sending citizens to a battlefield—no one in the decision-making seat could feel good about that.
It weighed visibly on Myeong-su’s face.
I patted his shoulder.
“Anyone in a decision-making seat feels like this. You always agonize and wander, trying to reach the best outcome. Hang in there. I’ll help. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”
“We can’t stop deployment. I know that. I just don’t like the region the U.S. wants. They want us in the fierce north-central battlegrounds. We want the safer northern Kurdish region.”
So his stance was clear:
Deploy, but avoid combat.
But that would gain no benefits.
The purpose of deployment was to support the U.S. and secure economic interests through reconstruction projects.
“That may turn out worse than refusing outright. To reap economic benefits, we need to be in the south if not the north-central. Otherwise, we might as well not deploy at all.”
“I know. You think I don’t know that? It’s just such a burden. Soldiers will die because of the government’s decision...”
He trailed off gloomily.
At that moment, Chief Ma returned.
“Boss. It’s time to leave.”
I checked the time. Kickoff was approaching.
“I get you. But forget the complicated stuff for now. Let’s enjoy the match. That’s why we’re here.”
We left the hotel and headed to Elland Road, Leeds’ home stadium.
The closer we got, the louder the cheers and chants rose.
Even gloomy Myeong-su slowly got swept up in the energy.
We got out of the car and entered the stadium.
“Charlie!”
“Roman.”
Our opponent for the final match:
Roman’s Chelsea.
