Chapter 58: Can't Stand Owing Anyone

TL: LittlePeach

Now, with everyone facing the moment of choice.

"...Fine."

One of the enforcers gave a heavy nod.

He was the man who'd been persistently pushing back against Yelena's every word up to now.

"Now that I think about it.... having you as our boss might just be the best choice for us too."

No matter who becomes boss, in the end it's the enforcers themselves who get stuck doing all the dirty work.

The other two enforcers understood that as well, and were quick to nod along.

"Yeah, sure. As long as you're the one calling our shots, at least we won't end up out on the street."

"We always knew Aleksei was a blockhead, sure."

Even Russian men who lived and died by their pride couldn't go against the tide of the times.

Wolves that had wandered the frozen wastes, starving, now volunteering to become well-fed herding dogs.

It was a natural evolutionary current, all in the name of survival.

'I lit the first spark, sure, but in the end it was the firewood that made it catch.'

Of course, the largest share of the credit belonged to Yelena, who'd pulled off the Bratva's fundamental overhaul.

I inwardly applauded her skill in finally winning them over.

"But there's one condition. I won't just let you kill Aleksei right away."

Of course, even though they'd made up their minds to accept change, they were, at the end of the day, mafia through and through.

Like the seasoned mafia they were, they didn't forget to draw a firm line.

"It's true Aleksei latched onto Mikhail, but that doesn't mean he betrayed our brotherhood. So keep the traitor who deserves to die limited to Mikhail."

"Fine. Wanting to take Aleksei's life was my own personal greed anyway."

A broad smile spread across Yelena's lips.

She nodded willingly, as though she wouldn't ask for anything more.

"I was just a little angry, that's all. At the unfair reality of having to work under an idiot like that."

Was it that they'd actually taken a liking to that brazen answer, which hid none of its aggression?

"Fine. In that case, let's discuss how we deal with the traitor from here on."

That savage hour of persuasion was over, and just as we were about to move on to the next step in the process.

One of the enforcers suddenly turned to me and jerked his chin.

"Come to think of it, Sunny Kick, that grenade-juggling show earlier was quite a sight."

"But you were chucking them around so casually, no sense of danger, that it just looked fake."

"Right. Next time, mix in a scared face or something."

Fake?

As I blinked in confusion, Yelena, who'd handed me the grenades, had her face crumple.

"No. This is actually...."

Then, all at once, a good idea came to me.

Right then, through the half-open window, I spotted an abandoned fishing boat moored in the harbor.

"By the way, is that boat one you actually use?"

"That? It broke down and got tossed ages ago. Now we just use it as a trash can."

At that, I immediately pulled one of the grenades from my pocket and yanked the pin.

While everyone stood there blinking, through the gap in the open window, whoosh.

....

KABOOOM!

"...."

"...."

With the blast, the abandoned fishing boat shattered to pieces and flew up into the air.

Then, belching black smoke, it slowly began to sink beneath the water.

Bloop, bloop.

Glug-glug-glug....

When I turned to look, the faces of the men who'd been so at ease moments ago had gone stiff and sour.

"This crazy son of a bitch...."

Their expressions said they now understood in their bones exactly what kind of lunatic stunt I'd pulled with those three grenades a moment ago.

And at the same time.

Thwack!

"Yeah, that's right! Because of you I thought I was going to die too!"

Yelena, having grasped the situation belatedly, strode over and jabbed me hard in the side.

I hunched up and hammed it up for no reason.

"I mean, come on, if push came to shove I figured I could shield you with my own body and save at least you. You're just the right size to fit in my arms."

"Wh-what?"

"You think I'd really have let you die?"

I grinned.

"It was my own little way of threatening you into getting along nicely with our Lena from now on."

"...Lunatic."

For some reason, Yelena whipped her head away.

I couldn't see her face, but the pale nape of her neck and the thin rim of her ear had somehow flushed red.

*****

FSB.

Russia's FSB wields more extralegal power than any other government body within Russia.

But when that blade has to point inward, the story gets awfully murky.

Especially since each Regional Security Bureau is guaranteed a degree of autonomy from headquarters, even an auditor dispatched from Moscow couldn't wield his power as he pleased.

Without reasonably solid physical evidence, conducting a proper audit was next to impossible.

Day after day in that frustration, the envoy Vladimir had been passing dull, meaningless days.

"How do you do, Comrade Envoy. I am Yelena Nikolaev, boss of the Ivanskaya Bratva."

That is, until the woman who introduced herself so came to the hotel where he was staying, of her own accord.

And then, following that courteous greeting, a brief history of the Ivanskaya Bratva came flowing out right away.

"My previous boss was a man named Viktor Ivanov, who was murdered a few days ago by Mikhail Volkov, director of the Primorsky Regional Security Bureau."

At that explanation, which gave off a strange premonition of upheaval, Vladimir was dumbfounded.

Then, once he'd come to his senses, he wore an excited smile and gladly offered the seat across from him.

"Sit. Vladimir Simonov."

Yelena knew well that to seize complete control of the Ivanskaya Bratva, she first had to bring down Director Mikhail.

That was precisely why she'd come in person, all the way to this five-star hotel restaurant in Vladivostok, to meet the envoy sent down from Moscow.

"This document is part of the record showing how the late former boss Viktor laundered the illegal funds he earned through Slavia Security. As you can see, a considerable slush fund out of that flowed into Director Mikhail's nominee account every single month."

"Hmm."

"Mikhail crossed the line. Blinded by greed, he tried to slip free of Moscow's control, and produced nothing but needless noise and division. He even went so far as to personally kill off the boss of our Bratva for his own gain."

To put it plainly, the Ivanskaya Bratva cannot kill Mikhail Volkov.

Some mere mafia outfit killing a sitting director of the FSB Primorsky Regional Security Bureau is nothing but an unrealistic fantasy.

"If you watch this video, you'll see a scene of Mikhail dirtying his own hands to deal with Viktor. It's rock-solid proof that the real mastermind behind this missile-technology illicit trade was Mikhail. He was terrified that if Viktor lived and opened his mouth, his own identity, hidden behind the scenes, would be exposed, so he panicked and rushed to silence him."

In Russia, the mafia is nothing more than a subordinate arm that handles the dirty work on behalf of the vast power of the state.

And such a criminal organization dares to bite through the throat of a state official?

That's an insubordination that must never happen on Russian soil.

So she had to borrow a blade.

"I wish to entrust our Bratva entirely, not to that unbelievable traitor Mikhail, but to you, Comrade Envoy, the one who will tear down his madness."

Yelena boldly demanded Vladimir's protection without a moment's hesitation.

The documents she'd laid out, the photo capturing the moment Mikhail fired his gun, and all the rest.

Vladimir, who'd been scanning through all that material, glanced up.

When their eyes met, Yelena laid her ambition bare in her own expression.

"If you, Comrade Envoy, bring down Director Mikhail, then I'll be able to safely return to you this slush fund that Mikhail has been hoarding all to himself. Under your comfortable nest, our Bratva is confident we can build up an even thicker debt of gratitude than we ever did in Director Mikhail's day."

Vladimir's eyes narrowed as if intrigued.

He almost wanted to send some praise her way for having prepared her treason so thoroughly.

"A tempting offer. But as far as I know, the one designated as the next boss of the Ivanskaya Bratva was a man named Aleksei Borisov. So how did this come about?"

To think an envoy from Moscow would see clear through even the succession scheme of some far-eastern regional mafia.

Yelena clicked her tongue in amazement on the inside, but on the surface she gave a leisurely shrug.

"Just now, I proved my ability to the brothers of the Bratva, and took that seat from him."

"Oh ho, is that so?"

"Yes. When it comes to taming beasts, the smell of food works far better than the smell of blood."

At such an absurd tale, Vladimir couldn't help but let out a dry laugh.

A single woman toppled the rules of the Bratva, packed wall to wall with Russian men, and climbed to the boss's seat herself?

"Well, well. Yelena, you really are a remarkable woman."

"Thank you for the kind words, Comrade Envoy."

Vladimir burst into hearty laughter.

He simply didn't let it show on his face, but inwardly he was cheering.

Stuck in a position where he had to somehow produce at least one presentable result before returning to Moscow, this was a refreshing offer, like a scratch at an itch he couldn't reach.

And on top of that, the neatly laundered slush fund of a PMC?

It was a deal with absolutely no reason to refuse.

Of course, from the very moment he took that slush fund, they'd be bound into a symbiotic relationship, each obliged to protect the other from then on.

That's what the Bratva is.

"Good, Yelena. I quite like that bold attitude of yours. Enough to make me want to keep watching you for a long time to come."

"Thank you for the excessive praise, Comrade Envoy."

"As a reward for that courage of yours, let me tell you an interesting little story. With just these few words, you'll likely be able to cement your legitimacy within the Bratva even more firmly."

"And what might that be?"

"Do you know why I came to be dispatched to this far-off eastern land?"

While Yelena wore an inscrutable expression, Vladimir grinned and lifted his water glass.

"A few days ago, an anonymous tip came in that North Korean agents and the Russian mafia were planning to run an illicit trade in missile technology. Thanks to that tip, I ended up dispatched all the way out to distant Vladivostok. And the name of that informant was Aleksei Borisov."

"...."

"So, what do you make of that?"

Yelena's eyes, which had been quietly listening, widened a fraction.

She realized at once that this single remark could fill in her one missing piece of legitimacy in a single stroke.

The perfect justification to shoot Aleksei dead this very instant.

'It's most likely true.'

After all, Aleksei too had been eyeing the Bratva's boss seat, waiting for his chance.

Given the circumstances, it was a story that fit well enough.

'But....'

At this juncture, though, it was wisest to turn down the offer Vladimir was holding out.

Now that she'd already seized full control of the Bratva by her own ability, there was no need to bother lending any meaning to Aleksei, the loser, at this late stage.

If she rashly killed Aleksei on the strength of a single piece of information she couldn't even verify, and then later the envoy Vladimir turned on her and feigned ignorance?

That very fact would plainly become a leash around her own throat.

'A crafty old snake.'

Truly a sweet offer of collusion befitting an envoy sent down from Moscow, one not to be taken lightly.

Keeping her true thoughts hidden, Yelena calmly spoke.

"I'm grateful for your deep consideration, Comrade Envoy. However, now that I've already taken full control of the Bratva, any further purge beyond this point might only spread needless unease among the remaining brothers."

At that, Vladimir tilted his head as if caught off guard.

His true thoughts hidden behind a faint smile.

"That, too, is a fair point. I won't force your choice on the matter."

"Thank you for your consideration."

A relationship where they guarded against each other and protected each other in the same breath.

Yelena felt that a Bratva in the truest sense had finally been completed.

And here, one last thing.

"...And Comrade Envoy, there's one more thing I'd like to ask of you here."

"What is it?"

She lightly wet her parched lips with her tongue.

"Would you hand the custody of the South and North Korean agents detained in this incident over to me?"

"Hmm?"

At the unexpected request, Vladimir let a puzzled look show.

But Yelena carried on with her reply calmly, without so much as a flicker in her expression.

"If those agents are left as they are, there's a strong chance they'll end up chalked up as Mikhail's achievement in the end. Even if Mikhail is hauled off to Moscow, if the credit and the blame cancel each other out because of those prisoners, a proper punishment might never come down."

"Hmmm...."

"But if you hand them over to me, I'll sell them off somewhere suitable on my own and launder the proceeds into the Bratva's funds. And that money will, of course, be put to good use in ventures that benefit you, Envoy."

"Oh ho."

Vladimir felt himself liking this clever woman more and more.

He wore a pleased expression and rubbed his chin.

"Now that you say it, that's a fair point. To think you'd catch even something I'd overlooked.... Just as you say, those prisoners have every chance of becoming quite a headache. If you clear them away properly, I'll process it on paper as their having died in the field."

"I'm deeply grateful that you've accepted my suggestion, Comrade Envoy."

"I'm the one who's grateful. A truly excellent proposal. Thanks to you, a few troublesome matters will be tidied up very neatly indeed."

When Vladimir's permission came down, a satisfied smile hovered at the corner of Yelena's mouth.

At the same time, the image of that lunatic of a man juggling grenades a little while ago flitted through her mind.

'...I can't stand owing anyone. Yeah, that's all it is.'

With a snort, she gently shook her head.

*****

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