The reason had to be Zhenya. Suppose he carried out the purge but didn’t destroy the blueprint. Maybe he took it for himself, and he figured out how to fix what others couldn’t, using his deep knowledge of weapons. That would explain everything. Anastasia was said to be powerful enough to shift global power. If Zhenya held that kind of leverage, not even the Kremlin could touch him.
“But this is all just your theory. What if—”
Salman stopped short as Taekjoo handed him something else. It was yesterday’s Irkutsk daily, with a frontpage story about a mutilated corpse found near Lake Baikal. It was a brief piece, but it even included a photo. The unidentified victim was thought to be Asian, found with all four limbs torn off. No signs of weapons were found in the body. Authorities suspected wild animals were behind the attack.
Salman frowned after finishing the article.
“What about this?” he asked.
“That’s Hong Yeowook, the North Korean engineer brought in to fix the SS-29. I saw him at the Bogdanov estate here in Siberia, and...”
“And?”
“His father was also on the Anastasia research list.”
“What does that mean?”
“Hong didn’t just come to fix the missile. He came for Psikh. He knew once the issue was resolved, Sergey would summon everyone—the entire Bogdanov family and top officials. Ant that’s exactly what happened. Hong might’ve recognized Psikh early on when he boarded the train, but simply pretended not to. They met again in Olkhon, where Hong tried to get his revenge. But it backfired. Thinking back, Hong had been oddly aware of Psikh.”
Assuming Hong had no other reason to go after Zhenya, then his death only confirmed Taekjoo’s theory. The whole thing made Taekjoo’s head pound, but also brought clarity.
As Salman stared at the newspaper, Taekjoo made a bold offer.
“Work with me. I’ll get you the money you were promised.”
His words and tone were firm, confident. It made Salman wonder—does he have someone backing him? Just for a moment, Salman believed him. But then he looked at Taekjoo’s battered face and sighed.
“I told you,” he reminded Taekjoo, “HQ is only paying your hospital bill. That’s it.”
“I don’t need their support.”
“What are you talking about? You’re hurt, without resources or backup—what exactly do you think you can do?”
“Stop whining. We’re fine now. You’re moving better, aren’t you? And don’t worry about weapons.”
“That’s not the only problem. You’re talking about a rogue mission. If we fail, we’re done. If our luck runs out, we’re dead. HQ won’t even bother retrieving your body.”
“You knew what you were signing up for when you took this job.”
“Yeah, but back then, there was more hope than there is now. Time to face reality. They know who we are. If they spot us, they’ll tail us immediately. Not to mention, we have no idea where that damn Anastasia even is.”
“Well, Psikh already told me how to beat Koschey the Immortal.”
“And what are you talking about this time?”
“I think I know where the blueprint is.”
Taekjoo said it with confidence, pulling out a satellite photo. Salman recognized the Bogdanov mansion right away. He had seen it before. But Salman couldn’t figure out what Taekjoo was getting at and looked even more confused.
Taekjoo started pointing out details in the picture, rambling about things Salman couldn’t follow.
“Psikh once told me a story about a castle on a vast land where no one lives. You can’t get there on foot, by boat, or by vehicle. You can’t reach it unless you become a fish, an insect, or a bird. The vast land—that’s the estate, and the castle that no one lives in—that’s the residence. Psikh had said something like that before. The residence has double, triple-layer of security. You can’t get in unless you’re officially invited.”
That was what Zhenya said that night at the secret after-party in the Bogdanov residence.
A strange place, isn’t it? It’s busy, yet filled with anything but humans.
Back then, Taekjoo dismissed it. Now, it came back to him as a clue. He was still uncertain. But he tried to make sense of it all, piecing the puzzle together.
“And in that castle, there is an old tree, a tree as old as Koschey himself. The garden at the Bogdanov residence has many trees, but in its far corner, there are exactly four birches. It’s an old Slavic tradition to plant a birch for every child born in the family. Psikh has three siblings, so that makes four of them. South of those trees stands the residence. That big jewelry box to the south of Koschey’s tree must mean the residence itself. The rooms inside would be the smaller boxes.”
Taekjoo drew intersecting lines across the photo, dividing the residence into square segments. Each square represented a room.
“He said there’s one box no one ever looks for. It’s neither too full nor too empty compared to the others. If the blueprint was hidden anywhere in the residence, it would be there. He also said that Koschey’s heart might be in there—or might not. Maybe even if you find the room, you won’t be able to get the blueprint right away. Maybe there’s an extra layer of security or certain conditions you have to meet first.”
“So you’re telling me that Psikh told you where the blueprint was just like that?”
Salman asked, his tone doubtful. Taekjoo nodded in response, and Salman groaned.
“Are you hearing yourself? Why would he give you that info?”
“That, I don’t know. But the bastard has never given me false information. Not once. He’s too damn arrogant for that.”
Taekjoo wouldn’t budge, even with Salman trying to talk sense into him. Then Taekjoo made an offer he knew Salman would want to hear.
“I’m not going to force you to work with me. If you’re not interested or don’t want to do it, you can walk away right now. I don’t have much time, so all I ask for is a quick answer. If the blueprint really is in that room, it’s yours.”
Salman said nothing, lips pressed into a tight line. It was too dangerous. It was far too risky. But he couldn’t just turn it down. He couldn’t return home like this, empty-handed.
“You sure it’s in that room?”
Salman wasn’t ready to drop his doubt. Taekjoo shrugged.
“I saw the room when I was at the residence. Every other room was lit, curtains drawn shut. But that room—its curtains were open wide. No furniture. No one inside. Of course, it could all just be one big coincidence. So, I checked more photos of the estate. That room stood out in every single photo. Rain or shine, day or night, it was always lit, curtains always open. When I thought back on it, something felt off. I was skulking near it at the time. My shadow passed across the floor, and just for a second, something white flickered. It looked like moonlight, but it wasn’t. There’s something in that room.”
He recalled Zhenya’s words.
Why are you there anyway?
Zhenya asked, watching Taekjoo struggle. Did it bother him that, of all the rooms, Taekjoo had chosen to snoop around that one?
Taekjoo stared at Salman with a look that said he had nothing more to say. Salman, who contemplated for quite some time, got to his feet and picked up his gun.
“You’re a nutjob, and I guess I’m no better.”