From the Taiga to the British Seas, Part 4
The past few days of close collaboration with the Chief of Security had been the happiest, most laughter-filled time Delis had experienced in recent memory. If she had to define "recent memory," it would be the period following the day her father was torn apart by a car.
"Pfft, so you looked that pathetic when you first met Lady Yerina?"
"I can't deny it. Our first encounter was in the outskirts of Odessa, which had turned into a complete mud pit due to the rasputitsa. That was where I ran into Lord Bronsky and the young lady while they were traveling."
According to Pavel, 1986 was a major turning point in his life. First and foremost, a potential radiation leak at Chernobyl had been contained early on, thanks to the heroic struggles of Soviet workers.
Their heroic tales naturally reached Pavel in Odessa, a mere 550 kilometers away. As a Soviet citizen, it was impossible for him not to get swept up in the atmosphere.
"At the time, I was deeply moved by the propaganda. I truly believed that the heroic efforts of the workers and the thoughtful designs of the engineers had averted a radiation disaster that could have been the worst catastrophe in history."
"Was I thirteen back then? I remember the Soviet Union heavily promoting it. If word spread like that even outside the Iron Curtain, it must have been even more intense on the inside."
"Perhaps things are different now that I can see the world from a broader perspective, but back then, I was nothing more than a frog in a well, trapped in the Soviet Union."
"A frog in a well?"
"It's an East Asian idiom. It refers to fools who are trapped by their narrow vision and cannot see beyond it."
"What an interesting idiom. Though I think the Soviet Union is a bit too big to be called a well... but anyway!"
Delis leaned slightly toward Pavel, her eyes practically begging him to tell her more.
"But even while everyone else was ecstatic, I couldn't fully lose myself in the propaganda."
"Ah, because you had to worry about your next meal?"
Pavel nodded in affirmation instead of speaking. Worrying about starvation was something Delis could never have imagined, even taking into account that this was eleven years ago.
"It wasn't like the Holodomor, so even if people went hungry in a Union that claimed to be a paradise for workers and peasants, they didn't actually starve to death."
"..."
"Well, at least we could get rations. I actually relied on them a few times."
"Ah... I see."
This, too, was difficult for Delis to comprehend. Pavel was only five years older than her, making them practically of the same generation, yet in Britain, the word "rations" was a term only used during World War II.
Her thoughts suddenly drifted to completely unrelated matters. He went hungry as a child, and yet his body turned out like this...? or Pavel is... six-foot-one, right? or Oh, right, Lady Yerina told me to think and speak in the metric system. So, 185 centimeters?—unimportant details like that.
Delis shook her head inwardly and focused back on Pavel's story. Listening to the turbulent life of the quarter-Korean man before her, she couldn't help but feel that the true frog in the well was none other than herself.
"More than anything, my minority complex was the biggest issue. It was a daily routine for those skinhead bastards to steal the food I got from rations or bought with my daily wages from odd jobs."
"They were truly ridiculous. As you can tell by looking at my eyes, Bloomfeld, I am actually more than half Slavic myself."
"But now, I sometimes feel grateful to those bastards. Fighting with them every day taught me how to use my fists, and that, in turn, allowed me to catch the eyes of those two."
The decaying old port facing the Black Sea was a gathering place for the dregs of society. The brighter the light, the deeper the shadow; as the third-largest city in the Ukrainian SSR after Kyiv and Kharkiv, Odessa teemed with the impoverished, fitting for its population of one million.
The authorities of the Soviet Union and the Ukrainian SSR turned a blind eye to the poor, whose very existence directly contradicted the concept of an "equal communist society for all." Thus, for an orphaned ethnic minority with no family, there was absolutely no hope of a better life unless the entire world was turned upside down.
"And then the world turned upside down?"
"Yes. It was a day like any other, when I got into a fistfight with those Slavic bastards and ended up face-down in the mud. The old port area was so poorly maintained that it was nothing but a swamp."
While not quite on par with tourist hubs like Sochi, which also faced the Black Sea, Odessa's climate was far milder than the Soviet average, making it highly attractive to visitors. It was under this pretext that the father-daughter duo leading the Northern Covenant Syndicate, then based in Kaliningrad, had come to Odessa for a vacation with only a minimal escort. Of course, a simple vacation wasn't their only goal.
A decaying port like this would naturally receive less scrutiny from the Soviet authorities. If the Syndicate could establish its influence in Odessa instead of the heavily guarded Sevastopol, it would secure a smuggling base leading through the Black Sea and the Bosphorus Strait straight into the Mediterranean.
"So, while Lord Bronsky's visit to the old port—the absolute bottom of the barrel—was somewhat planned—"
"Lady Yerina's decision to tag along was entirely impulsive, then?"
That was indeed the case. Pavel briefly recalled the childish chatter Lady Yerina had supposedly spouted back then.
"Daddy, I want to go too! Being cooped up in my room all day is so boring!"
"Hmph, you're saying I can't...? Fine, but Yerina is going anyway."
"If Daddy says no, I'll just ask Uncle Rybakov."
Pavel was profoundly grateful that no parent could ever truly win against their child. If, on that early summer day in 1986, the young Yerina Bronska had not impulsively decided to follow her father; if their path had deviated even slightly, preventing them from spotting Pavel Choi lying in the mud; or if they had simply chosen to ignore him even after finding him...
"—I wouldn't be here today. And perhaps, neither would the Syndicate."
Listening to Pavel's past, what Delis realized most—aside from her own previous ignorance—was the striking similarity between Pavel and herself.
...No, not that they were both parentless orphans. Rather, it was the fact that both of them had been granted a new lease on life through Lady Yerina's impulsive decisions. Two people who would have lived completely different lives in entirely different countries now stood together in the same room, bound by a shared savior. It was truly something to be grateful for.
Delis wanted to extend this overlapping trajectory of their lives for as long as possible. And if possible, she wanted to close the distance between them just a little bit more.
Clap! Delis clapped her hands to break the heavy mood.
"Whew, things were getting a bit too gloomy there...! Thanks for sharing, Pavel!"
"Come to think of it, it's already about that time. We should wait for the young lady a bit longer."
Pavel replied, noticing Delis glancing at the clock on the wall.
"We don't... well, we don't really need to contact her, right? Lady Yerina will be coming here herself anyway."
Saying this, Delis turned her gaze toward a certain object sitting in a corner of the office.
"By the way, I've been wondering... why have you left that unopened all this time?"
The object in question was a necklace purchased in Paris. A few days ago, Pavel had personally distributed them to Delis and the other department heads on Yerina's behalf. The very last person to receive it was Rybakov. Just like when they had gifted the improved Rosetta Stone, only a son could properly deliver a gift to his father.
Opening the box with somewhat clumsy hands, the necklace inside was revealed. It was the exact design Pavel had personally selected in Paris. Delis unfastened the clasp as she answered Pavel's question.
"Unlike the other department heads, I have to keep an eye on how the Ministry of Magic views me. Even though the Ministry's suspicion of Lady Yerina has decreased significantly, it hasn't vanished entirely."
"That's true. But how is that a problem?"
"Oh, honestly! The Ministry surely knows that Lady Yerina bought these items in Paris. How could I wear this to work at the Ministry headquarters every day?"
"So you couldn't wear it if you wanted to maintain your double life."
Delis nodded slightly. Her hands were still fumbling around the back of her neck, trying to find the clasp.
"But now that I'm off the clock and about to see Lady Yerina, I should wear it. It's a gift she gave me, after all."
"I see."
Delis's attempts to put on the necklace continued to fail. Perhaps because she wasn't used to it, her fingers kept fumbling in the air. After several failed attempts, she let out a slightly frustrated whine.
"Ugh... can you help me?"
"Me?"
"Who else is in here besides you? Please, just help me out."
That did seem like the sensible thing to do. The young lady would be arriving soon, and it wouldn't do to have Delis still struggling like this. Pavel shook his head, stood up, and walked over to her.
"You can't even do something like this on your own? Do it yourself next time."
"Haha, alright. I will—"
As the distance between them suddenly closed, Delis flinched, her voice trailing off.
"Bloomfeld? Are you alright?"
"...Ah, yes. It's nothing."
Delis briefly considered being honest, but quickly decided against it. If she confessed that his scent reminded her of her father again, it would only dampen the mood. Though she couldn't deny that, deep down, she hoped Pavel would keep using that same cologne.
Unaware of Delis's thoughts, Pavel figured it was best to get the task over with quickly. The soft rustle of Delis's hair, tied up in a ponytail, felt strangely ticklish against his hands. Pavel took both ends of the unclasped necklace and looped it around her neck.
The leader of the Syndicate stepped into the office at the exact moment a soft *click* signaled the completion of his task.
Hmm...
I had witnessed a rather compromising sight, but there was a high probability that the situation wasn't what I initially thought. If putting a necklace on someone from behind made you a couple, then the barrier to entry for a relationship would be ridiculously low. Besides, you had to wear these things to get used to them; rather than wasting hours struggling to find the clasp, it was far more efficient to ask for help.
Thus, maintaining my composure as best as I could, I stepped fully into the office.
"You two seem to be getting along well. Since when were you so close?"
The answer came from Delis.
"I asked him for help. I kept fumbling with it when I tried to put it on myself."
"Ah, I know that feeling. I was the same way when I first started wearing the Spiegel as a necklace."
I turned to Pavel and asked the same.
"Is that true?"
"Yes. Bloomfeld asked me first."
He looked slightly uncomfortable, but it didn't seem like a lie. Pavel and Delis were my most important and trusted subordinates. Since they both knew this, they had no reason or need to lie to me.
I naturally took the seat of honor on the sofa in the center of the office.
"I was worried sick because I couldn't get in touch with you, but to think you were flirting like this. I was anxious for nothing, wasn't I?"
When I teased them with a playful chuckle, Delis's face flushed a bright, noticeable red.
"Flirting, of all things..."
Though she seemed to secretly enjoy the accusation. Even after Pavel stepped back after fastening the clasp, Delis kept touching the centerpiece around her neck, looking thoroughly lost in nostalgia. It wouldn't hurt to give them a brief moment of respite before we got down to business. The surface of the necklace caught the office lights, gleaming in a brilliant array of colors.