Chapter 171: Do You Need My Help?

As the general elections began in Korea, Putin’s presidential inauguration was taking place in Russia.

President Yeltsin’s early resignation had prompted the presidential election to be moved up from June.

Putin, who had ingrained a strong image in the public during the Second Chechen War, was elected president without a runoff, receiving support from over half of the voters.

Of course, on the surface, it looked like Putin had achieved an easy victory, but beneath it all, fierce power struggles among the oligarchs were taking place.

Berezovsky backed Putin, while Gusinsky supported Zyuganov in the election, and the result was Zyuganov’s defeat.

However, Gusinsky remained unfazed and continued broadcasting criticisms of Putin through his own television station.

“Long time no see, Boss Kim.”

As I arrived at Moscow airport to attend Putin’s inauguration, Medvedev greeted me.

“Professor, it’s been a while! Did you come in person?”

“Haha, it’s been ages since I left that position.”

Seeing his awkward expression, Medvedev laughed and waved his hand dismissively.

“Ah, I heard you resigned from your professorship to take on the role of campaign chairman.”

“That’s in the past. Now that Putin is elected, I have to return to the sidelines.”

“What are you talking about? You need to help President Putin now.”

It was just a casual conversation, but I could feel Medvedev’s humble demeanor, even while being at the center of power.

On either side of the airport exit stood my security team and another unit from the Russian police.

Escorted by them, I got into the same car as Medvedev, where his secretary briefed us on the schedule.

“The presidential inauguration is set for noon tomorrow.”

As I adjusted my watch to Russian time, I realized it was evening.

I hadn’t felt hungry until then, but suddenly realizing it made my stomach growl, so I casually asked Medvedev.

“If you’re not too busy, would you care to join me for a meal?”

“Oh, that sounds great! I know a delicious restaurant. Let’s go there.”

The car carrying Medvedev and me slowly entered downtown Moscow.

“So, what are your plans now, Medvedev? Are you really thinking of going back to the sidelines as you said?”

“Hmm… I think I’ll be returning as the administrative deputy for now. I’ll likely also become the vice president of Gazprom.”

History does not seem to change in Russia.

By appointing Medvedev and his close aides to the Gazprom board, Putin was preparing to eliminate Gusinsky.

“Congratulations, Deputy. Is it okay if I call you that?”

“Thank you. I feel like I’ve been placed in a position that’s too much for me.”

“Isn’t that a sign that you have President Putin’s trust?”

At the mention of trust, Medvedev lowered his gaze, lost in thought.

“Well, I have already started feeling pressure against me. It’s from people with backgrounds in the KGB and military.”

Putin was preparing to overhaul the Kremlin’s key positions dominated by the oligarchs.

And he, leveraging his KGB and FSB director experience, was calling numerous military and intelligence personnel into high-ranking positions of the central government right after being elected president.

This marked the rise of a new elite group called the Siloviki.

“If President Putin trusts you, wouldn’t any opposition they put up be ineffective?”

“I’m not so sure. I’ve known Putin for a long time, but it’s always difficult to grasp his true intentions.”

As Medvedev said, while Putin seemed like someone who spoke freely, it was hard to know whether that reflected his real feelings.

Whether it was in his nature or the result of KGB training, he was exceptionally good at concealing himself.

Before long, the car stopped in front of a restaurant.

“Let’s head in, Boss Kim.”

As we entered the restaurant, there wasn’t a single customer inside.

It seemed they had contacted and cleared out everyone in advance.

“I wanted to talk quietly while we enjoyed our meal.”

Perhaps knowing in advance, food was served as soon as we sat down.

Aside from Manager Ma and Medvedev’s secretary, everyone else had been asked to leave the restaurant.

With that, the restaurant became quiet enough for us to discuss anything we wanted.

“Shall we have a drink?”

Medvedev, smiling amiably, poured us both some wine.

As I gazed at the glass slowly filling with red wine, Medvedev suddenly asked.

“What do you think about the future of Russia, Boss Kim?”

“The future?”

I had a feeling I understood why he was asking that.

Medvedev muttered in a self-deprecating tone.

“I can’t see a bright future for Russia. Although Putin is now president, the power of the oligarchs who took control is too strong.”

Medvedev’s expression seemed genuinely uncomfortable, as if he really meant it.

It was indeed a touchy subject, one that would make anyone uncomfortable.

“Putin may not become a mere puppet for them, but it seems like any attempt to eliminate them would result in significant economic damage.”

After saying that, Medvedev raised his glass toward me.

We clinked our glasses together and drank.

Despite the heavy atmosphere, the wine was smooth as it slid down my throat.

“Most likely… he’ll aim to eliminate Gusinsky first. The plans must already be in place.”

Medvedev’s eyes widened as he drank the wine.

“The oligarchs probably see Putin as a child and won’t be on guard against him. They think they’ve created a president and are likely to relax their guard.”

Unaware of Putin’s ambition, Berezovsky would be toasting with wine.

“Putin won’t be satisfied playing the puppet. He will inevitably clash with the oligarchs… and to do that, he’s calling military and intelligence personnel into the Kremlin, isn’t he?”

Medvedev had meanwhile set down his glass and was watching me savor the wine with keen interest.

Smiling, I followed suit and set my glass down.

“Unlike him, you seem worried that the military and intelligence personnel will take over the positions once held by the oligarchs.”

“…You could make a good politician, Boss Kim. Now I see why Putin favors you. It’s rather scary.”

I already knew that Putin appreciated my presence, but hearing it from Medvedev made me feel unexpectedly pleased.

“That’s too generous. Anyone with an interest in Russia could deduce that.”

“No, while one can guess, it’s difficult to gauge so precisely. I bet no one thinks the oligarchs and Putin will tussle any time soon.”

Placing his hands on the table, Medvedev interlaced his fingers.

Looking uneasy, he fidgeted with his fingers as he continued.

“Putin became president with the support of the oligarchs. Of course, there are exceptions like Gusinsky.”

Removing the oligarchs would dismantle the political foundation Putin stands on, which is why no one expected it.

Berezovsky was likely reveling in the thought of swallowing up Gusinsky’s companies, while the oligarchs who backed Putin prepared to gather the crumbs that would fall from their table.

“Deputy, if you want to survive, let go of your greed. I understand you consider Putin a friend.”

But Putin is a ruthless man.

Medvedev, even if he sees me as a friend, won’t turn a blind eye to my mistakes.

“Fathers and sons never share power. Keep your head down as much as possible, and focus on what Putin tells you to do.”

“…I will.”

“You know better than anyone that a friend won’t treat you differently. The life of a deputy is naturally tough.”

“Deputy…”

Whether he wanted it or not, he had officially become Putin’s deputy.

That likely made his situation more complicated.

“You’ll be faced with ambushes from those below, and suspicion from those above. No matter the era or culture, remember how the deputies of history met their ends.”

The conclusion was always death.

Deputies had their place in the records of royal regimes.

Though different from then, there wasn’t a significant difference between a dictatorship and a monarchy in terms of power.

And Putin’s Russia was a regression to the past.

“Hey, go get some vodka!”

Medvedev, pressing his forehead, said to the secretary standing by his side.

Medvedev filled his glass with vodka instead of wine and downed it in one go.

“Ha… Boss Kim, please understand. Wine just doesn’t cut it for me. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. The love of vodka is famous among Russians.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his vibrant demeanor, now more lively than when he was drinking wine.

As Medvedev filled a small glass with vodka, he continued speaking.

“You’re right, Boss Kim. I fear them. We barely weakened the KGB’s power through Gorbachev’s reforms, and if they return to central Moscow, we might regress to the past.”

“Are you worried about Russia, or about your own safety?”

Before the regression, Medvedev showed more concern for his personal safety than for the country.

But the Medvedev sitting before me now seemed like an intellectual agonizing over Russia’s future.

“It’s difficult to say if I am worried for my own safety or for my motherland. Even I don’t really know.”

With a bittersweet smile, Medvedev took another sip of vodka.

I felt a twinge of pity for his heavy-hearted expression.

“Take it easy, Deputy.”

“This is nothing for me. Would you care for a drink, Boss Kim?”

“I’m fine with this.”

I held up my glass filled with wine and shook it with a smile.

Medvedev quickly poured vodka into his empty glass, laughing in response.

After taking a few rounds of drinks interspersed with laughter, it suddenly came to me.

“Deputy, do you need my help?”

“Help from you, Boss Kim… It might backfire. I don’t think Putin would sit idly by watching his man support someone else.”

Just like that, Medvedev’s previously cheerful expression turned rigid in an instant.

“What would you like me to do?”

“Tell me, is there a future for Russia? I want to hear your thoughts, as well as what I should do next.”

I nodded slowly.

“I believe Russia has a bright future. It was a country that shared the world with the U.S. for half a century, after all. Surely that potential hasn’t vanished. True, we’re facing an economic crisis, but with abundant resources and manpower, we will rise again.”

Medvedev smiled faintly.

I could tell that wasn’t the kind of reassurance he wanted to hear.

“Deputy, focus on your role as vice president of Gazprom rather than politics. Step back from the political brawl, showing you have no intent of becoming an enemy to Putin.”

“…Gazprom, you say.”

“Just because Putin’s president doesn’t mean all power will concentrate immediately.”

But it was clear that Putin would prepare step by step to become not just the president of Russia, but its true tsar.

“In the end, one needs enough money not to have to watch their back around the oligarchs. And that’s facilitated by state-owned enterprises like Gazprom.”

“Yeltsin handed over many state-owned companies, including Gazprom, to the oligarchs under the guise of privatization. Reclaiming them won’t be easy.”

There’s no statement more untrustworthy than a moan from a capable person.

Leaning my chin on my hand, I gazed at him with inquisitive interest.

“It’s not easy. But I know it’s not impossible. Haven’t plans already been made to seize control of the board?”

“…Is that merely simple speculation?”

“I’m just considering how I would act if I were President Putin. I would use Gazprom to nationalize the companies that have fallen into the hands of the oligarchs.”

I spoke casually, reciting Putin’s plans effortlessly.

Power stems from money, and Putin knows it well.

“On the surface, they’ll appear as private enterprises, but the control will lie with the Russian government. The best way to diminish the oligarchs’ strength is to take away their money.”

Putin and the new core group emerging in Russia—Siloviki—had already begun formulating their plans to seize Gazprom.

After grabbing Gazprom, they then used it to acquire the privatized companies.

That would trigger a backlash, causing Gazprom to falter, but such consequences mattered little to Putin.

Ultimately, the surviving oligarchs would have no choice but to watch their backs around Putin.

“If you wish to change Russia, you need to start thinking about becoming Putin’s successor. You must thoroughly lower your head, deceive, and humble yourself. Then, perhaps you will earn Putin’s trust.”

As I recited Putin’s methods, Medvedev’s expression turned complicated as he silently sipped vodka.

“That’s all the advice I can offer. The choice remains yours, Medvedev.”

Having asked for assistance, I could only provide him with these answers.

I couldn’t nudge him, nor force a decision upon him.

“To possess Gazprom is to possess Russia. That’s how I see it. Now, let’s rise. Tomorrow is likely to be busy from the morning.”

“Ah, I must have taken up too much of your time.”

“Not at all. It was a fruitful time, Deputy.”

To make him feel better about his embarrassment, I exaggerated my tone.

“Thank you for listening to my thoughts, although trivial. Please forget about them, haha.”

“I won’t tell anyone about our conversation. Alright, I’ll take my leave.”

I stood up to shake hands and extended my hand.

Medvedev also rose from his seat and grasped my hand.

His grip was firm.

We exited the restaurant and headed straight to my residence in Moscow.

We had to drive through the large main gate and into the estate before reaching the front of the mansion.

As the car came to a halt, Igor opened the door for me and greeted me.

“Boss, it’s been a while.”

“Igor, how have you been?”

As I stepped out and looked around, many things had changed.

“How is it, Boss?”

“I like it. You’ve worked hard.”

The main building, where I would stay, was adorned with decorations and furnishings befitting European aristocrats, which I found delightful.

“Since we need to start early tomorrow, please tell everyone to get some rest. Manager Ma, please gauge the atmosphere in Korea and report back by tomorrow.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Thus, my first day back in my home in Russia passed.

The next day, I headed to the Kremlin Palace, where the inauguration of Russia’s new president, Putin, was set to take place.