June 7, 2035

  Gamamusa rode in a limousine with Olga to the site of a new digestion engine factory. Olga, dressed in a shiny black dress and high heels, grumbled about her discomfort. The area around the factory was a snowy field with sparse grass, and workers were cutting the grass with weed trimmers to bring it to the factory. Olga looked puzzled. "...Do they usually use the grass near the factory site? I heard we bought a separate wheat field." Gamamusa pressed a button to close the limousine's window. "Those are experimental weeds. Unlike the wheat stalks and roots we use, these plants digest slowly. We're developing a machine to digest them faster. Now, look ahead. Let's focus on the factory opening ceremony."

  At the factory's main gate, reporters had gathered, joined by Russia’s Minister of Science and other dignitaries. Inside, the factory had been transformed into an event venue, bustling with workers and visitors, creating a chaotic atmosphere. "...No grand speeches today, right? I just want to go home and rest," Olga said. Gamamusa nodded. "...I'll keep it short." He stepped onto the central platform, looking down at the crowd. As the audience quieted, he cleared his throat. "...As you all know, our major shareholder, Dmitry Grekov, has passed away. His daughter Olga, who has become the goddaughter of His Excellency the President, has now taken his place as the major shareholder."

  Before Gamamusa could finish, Olga stepped onto the platform. The crowd applauded, and she waved, then took the microphone. "...Thank you, everyone. As you know, my father was killed by a gang in Brazil and passed away while being transported to the hospital. It’s a tragedy. I offer my condolences." Olga continued her speech, delivering polished remarks about the new factory and the company’s prospects. Gamamusa yawned, visibly bored. After the speech, he took Olga’s hand and led her down from the platform. Olga glanced around, then whispered in his ear, "...Where’s my father?"

  Gamamusa pointed to Jang Cheol-dae, who was pushing a wheelchair near the factory entrance. Jang Cheol-dae usually wheeled his son, Jang Cheol-jin, but this time, an elderly man was in the chair. Olga approached. "Can I take the wheelchair now?" Jang Cheol-dae stepped aside. Smiling, Olga gripped the wheelchair and whispered to Dmitry Grekov, disguised as an old man. "...Dad, what’s with this disguise? You look really old. Honestly, I feel like tipping you out of this chair. I told you I didn’t want to be chairman, didn’t I?" Dmitry Grekov glanced up at her. "...What choice do we have? You’re my only daughter, so you’re the only heir. Just play along for now."

  ...

  April 19, 2035

  Ko A-young and Baek Hyung-jin were waiting in a special forces truck. In front of them stood a rundown mansion, its door open and stained with blood. "...Of all places, you picked this one? A favela crawling with gangs," Ko A-young said. Baek Hyung-jin looked down. "...Come on, noona. This was the only place..." Ko A-young smacked his forehead with hers. "You only call me noona when you’re in trouble. Try acting cute like this normally, huh?" She turned away, pouting.

  Creak... The mansion’s door opened, and special forces operatives emerged, escorting handcuffed gang members to the back of the truck where Ko A-young and Baek Hyung-jin sat. "Hey! You can’t put them in here!" Ko A-young shouted. One of the gang members glared at her, and she fell silent. Moments later, Kang Min-cheol came out carrying a severely disfigured body and laid it on the slum’s ground. (In Portuguese) "...He’s dead. No way to confirm if it’s really Dmitry Grekov. The appearance matches, though..."

  The operatives pulled Ko A-young and Baek Hyung-jin out of the truck and brought them to Kang Min-cheol. "...Is this the Grekov you were talking about?" Ko A-young nodded. Kang Min-cheol eyed them suspiciously. "Doesn’t matter. His daughter seems to have inherited his fortune anyway." At that moment, Jung Min-ju emerged from the mansion’s door. Kang Min-cheol turned to her. "...What’s that supposed to mean? We don’t even know if Grekov’s really dead." Jung Min-ju shook her head. "...There’s more than one person posing as Grekov. Some of them have already been reported dead. Looks like they killed off the doubles. Russia’s already announced Grekov’s death."

  Kang Min-cheol frowned. "...That psychotic bastard. Killing prisoners in our republic wasn’t enough... What did Lieutenant Colonel Bruno say?" Jung Min-ju sighed. "...He said to pull out. Bruno wants no part in this. Just announce Grekov’s dead and let’s go." Kang Min-cheol grabbed her collar. "...Just leave? Don’t you see how many people that monster killed? He’s a demon. A demon who sees through everything!" Jung Min-ju scoffed. "...Really? And whose country was experimenting on him? North Korea, wasn’t it?" Kang Min-cheol flinched. Jung Min-ju turned to Ko A-young. "...A-young told me. North Korean servers were sending data to Gamamusa, right?"

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