3. The Nuclear Man
The Bogdanov residence defied imagination. Its scale and intricate details rivaled those of the Kremlin.
The blue roof atop the white walls was sublime, elegant without being ostentatious.
The delicate lines of Rococo art created a graceful harmony.
They blended beautifully with the shimmering golden decorations.
Stone steps and colossal, intricately carved marble pillars supported the soaring ceiling.
Its heavy, imposing gates overwhelmed anyone who dared to approach.
Strings of soft light laced the entire estate, enveloping it in an ethereal atmosphere.
The gates cast long shadows over the grass field.
After being closed all this time, they quietly swung open at midnight.
Rows of cars streamed into the massive garden despite the late hour.
The estate featured a lake and a long drive that led up to the residence.
Trees lined the paths so perfectly that they hid the other side of the fence, much like those around a prison.
All the attendees were important public figures, so security was strict. Every visitor was checked twice—once at the gate and again at the garden entrance. Kwon Taekjoo’s vehicle was no exception.
An armed guard approached the car and knocked on the window.
The window rolled down at the guard’s instruction.
For security, the guard confirmed several details.
First, the guest had to present an original, physical copy of the invitation.
Next, the guest’s name, car plate number, designated companion, and their relationship to the guest had to be consistent with the submitted guest list. No exceptions were allowed.
“May I see your invitation?”
Taekjoo handed the envelope to the guard.
The guard took out a scanner with a special lamp and scanned the envelope.
Soon, an emblem that hadn’t been visible before appeared.
The scanner beeped to confirm it had detected and registered the emblem.
Next, the guard inspected the inside of the vehicle to confirm who was inside.
The invitation had hidden security features. It even had a chip containing the guest’s information. When the scanner read the serial code on each invitation, it would display the guest’s details on its screen. No effort was spared to keep out unwanted guests.
“Thank you for your cooperation,” the guard said after carefully checking the back seat. Thanks to this thorough security, traffic built up from the gate to the garden, and again from the garden to the residence.
“With all this fuss, you’d think we were in a James Bond movie.”
Taekjoo grumbled, looking bored.
“Funny how I’m the only one dancing to their tune. So fair, right?”
He continued complaining, glancing at the rearview mirror. His eyes met Zhenya’s, who was wearing a silent grin.
“I’m the invited one, so there’s not much we can do about it. There are only two ways an uninvited person could attend the party—either become the driver of someone who’s invited, or pose as their lover. If you didn’t like the first option, you should’ve come as the second.
I’m sure it would’ve been quite a sight.”
“Or I could just take down one of the guards and steal his clothes. Look at how many there are. You think they’d notice if one went missing?”
“Do you enjoy making things harder for yourself? You’d better save your strength instead of wasting it on stunts like that.”
Zhenya was right. Taekjoo didn’t know how, but Zhenya managed to get his hands on an official invitation. There was no need for Taekjoo to make things more difficult than necessary. He was just annoyed he had to treat Zhenya as his boss, even if it was only for a short while.
“Roll the window up,” Zhenya couldn’t stop himself. There was obviously a button on the back seat as well, but he simply didn’t want to lift a finger. Taekjoo glared at him through the rearview mirror before reluctantly rolling the window up.
Soon, they were in front of the residence. Taekjoo parked the car on one side and set the parking brake. Meanwhile, Zhenya didn’t move an inch.
“Aren’t you getting out?”
“Why, you took the words right out of my mouth—aren’t you forgetting something?”
Zhenya tilted his head toward the rear door, signaling with his eyes. Taekjoo looked appalled—he couldn’t be serious—but Zhenya gave a slight nod, confirming he absolutely was. A lot of people were watching them outside the vehicle, and a valet attendant was approaching. There was no choice.
Taekjoo let out a long sigh and got out of the driver’s seat.
He walked around the car and opened the back seat door.
Zhenya leaned lazily to the side as he stepped out of the car.
Was it because of his usual, lazy demeanor?
Taekjoo could feel Zhenya’s gaze slowly moving over his face.
The corner of Zhenya’s lips curled upward.
“Please follow me, sir.”
The servers on standby assisted Zhenya almost obsequiously. Taekjoo hurried to follow.
At the top of the ten or so steps stood a massive set of inner gates, at least twelve feet tall. Guards on either side opened them. At last, the interior of the Bogdanov residence was revealed.
Taekjoo stood there, speechless.
It was a world completely different from the one outside.
The ceilings, as lofty as those in a cathedral, seemed to reach for the heavens.
The wide hall intimidated visitors right from the entrance.
Pristine walls and pillars radiated elegance.
Gold ornaments were carefully placed to highlight their surroundings.
The warm golden light from extravagant chandeliers made him blink in awe.
The frescoed ceiling was painted in soft, muted tones—neither too bold nor too dull.
It created perfect harmony throughout the space.
The bare walls were decorated with sculptures of all sizes, eliminating any sense of plainness.
A small orchestra played softly from the balcony staircase.
Their lively yet subtle music filled the vast space without disturbing conversations.
“Makes me wanna throw up,” Taekjoo mumbled to himself.
Zhenya turned to look at him. The grandeur of the place, a scene rarely seen, didn’t seem to impress Taekjoo in the least.
On the contrary, he seemed repulsed. Of course, Zhenya hadn’t expected Taekjoo to claim the place was beautiful or that he felt like a prince in a fairytale.
Taekjoo didn’t strike him as someone with an eye for beauty, let alone someone who would daydream about being a prince.
But still, this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and Taekjoo’s first words were that he felt like throwing up?
After staring at his expressionless face, Zhenya looked away, huffing out a laugh.
The main hall was already filled with people, talking in groups of threes and fours.
Among them, there was one that grabbed Taekjoo’s attention right away.
It was the president of Russia. Taekjoo had seen the face countless times in media outlets, but it felt surreal to see the man with his own eyes.
“Welcome.”
Taekjoo was scanning the place for a while when a middle-aged man came over and greeted him in the politest manner.
He seemed like the butler or the overall supervisor of the event.
Zhenya ignored him and walked straight into the hall.
Taekjoo was about to follow Zhenya in when the middle-aged man, straightening up from a bow, stepped in front of him.
“Chauffeur, this way, please.”
He extended his arm and pointed out to the hallway to the side.
Even at a glance, Taekjoo could tell it was a place servers and personal staff used.
He threw an urgent glance at Zhenya. However, the jerk didn’t look back once but kept walking ahead.
This was becoming a habit—Zhenya always said they were partners, but when it mattered, he never had Taekjoo’s back.
“Follow me, please.”
The butler slightly urged Taekjoo. Taekjoo was a chauffeur right now, and he couldn’t find an excuse for a chauffeur to stay around.
He had no choice but to go to the designated area.
He could see Zhenya blending in effortlessly with the other esteemed guests.
Zhenya, someone who didn’t look out of place even among the most royal clubhouse members of Russia—who was he? What was his deal?
Taekjoo’s eyes narrowed. All personal feelings disappeared from his face, leaving only a rigid expression.
The butler led Taekjoo to the storage next to the kitchen. It was an area for those who weren’t invited—including Kwon Taekjoo. The door clicked shut the moment Taekjoo stepped inside.
People inside seemed to be used to the accommodation, seeing how all of them were on their phones.
There were a few who were playing chess or chatting with each other.
If the drivers were going to be gathered and shut away like this, why bother bringing them into the residence at all?
Wouldn’t it have been better to leave them in their respective vehicles?
If Taekjoo had to guess, it was probably so they could be on standby in case their employers needed them.
He clicked his tongue inwardly at the absurd inefficiency.
He found it comforting that, unlike them, he actually had something to do.
The party was at its peak, and there was no better time to dig around. But that meant Taekjoo would have to leave this place and go to the main hall.
However, he had no legitimate excuse. As a chauffeur, he probably needed permission to go use the restroom. And if he ever got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, he’d be under suspicion instantly. Should he just trust Zhenya and wait for him? No, not a chance.
What now? Taekjoo paced around the entrance and thought about ways to get out of this room. Other employees looked at him strangely at first, but it didn’t take long for them to lose interest. No one would seem to notice if Taekjoo slipped out slowly right now.
Taekjoo made sure no one was watching him before he quietly opened the door.
He was extra careful in case the door hinges creaked and caused a sound.
He could feel people bustling on the other side of the door, busy carrying out food and drinks.
Taekjoo waited for the right time, then went out in one swift movement.
He closed the door quickly, keeping his guard up until he let go of the handle.
Only after the door shut behind him did Taekjoo finally exhale.
He was the only one standing in the busy hallway.