Good morning, Mr. Tsvetkov."
Every employee immediately greeted him as a man passed through the main lobby of the Tsvetkov & SON. Inc office, followed by a female assistant behind him carrying a tablet and several folders. While walking past the employees who greeted and saluted him, Alexei Yudovich Tsvetkov only showed a faint smile. He continued walking toward the private elevator designated for the board of directors and company owners. Upon arriving in front of the elevator, the man entered, followed by his assistant.
Once inside the Director's office on the 37th floor, Alexei Tsvetkov sat down in his chair. He took a bottle of wine that was half-lying tilted in a large glass bowl filled with ice cubes, located not far from his desk. Pouring the alcoholic liquid into a glass, he sipped it while leaning back in his comfortable chair, trying to relax.
The large glass window behind him displayed a view of the Moscow Tower and the winding Moskva River in the distance. A view that only a select few in this city could enjoy—and Alexei was one of them.
"How about this month's report?"
That question opened the conversation.
"This quarter's financial report shows a growth of 12.3% compared to the same period last year, sir," Barbara—an assistant in her mid-twenties with straight, shoulder-length blonde hair—explained politely while reading the report documents displayed on the screen of the tablet she was holding. "The factories in Novosibirsk and Saint Petersburg recorded an 8% increase in production after optimizing distribution routes. For overseas branches, the factories in Minsk and Almaty are also showing positive trends."
"Anything else?" Alexei asked flatly.
"The government has lifted the special supervisory status on three of our production facilities in Moscow Oblast," Barbara continued. "The Health Supervisory Agency has stated that the laboratory fire incident fifteen years ago is no longer an investigative priority. Several competitor companies that previously used the situation to pressure us are now beginning to offer cooperation."
"Hmmnn, is that so?" One of Alexei's eyebrows rose; his attention was on the empty glass in his hand.
"Additionally, two pharmaceutical companies from Germany and Switzerland have expressed interest in establishing distribution partnerships in the European market. They're offering licenses for three of our flagship products." Seeing her boss's indifferent expression, Barbara asked, "You seem unsatisfied, Director Tsvetkov?" Or rather, she guessed.
Alexei exhaled steadily, his facial expression absent of emotion for a few seconds. Putting the now-empty glass back on the table, Alexei said, "Until I catch that rabbit, I'm still not satisfied."
Barbara fell silent for a moment. She knew very well that for the past few months, her boss had been obsessed with someone known only by the nickname "Killer Rabbit." A hitman rumored to be hiding in America. She didn't know exactly what relationship Mr. Tsvetkov had with that fugitive, but she was smart enough not to ask.
"Someday, you will definitely get the Rabbit," Barbara said, sounding reassuring.
For a moment, a glint appeared in the director's eyes. Alexei calmly said, "Yes, of course. Until that day comes, I will make him bow to me." Both sides of his lips pulled into a smile that was more fitting to be called a sneer.
*
Alexei was a man who knew no mercy. Almost everyone who knew him knew that. Although there were many more who did not. When he replaced his father—Aaron Yudovich Tsvetkov—as President Director of Tsvetkov & SON. Inc, within three years Alexei had successfully revived the company from the brink of bankruptcy.
The explosion incident at the central laboratory in 1994—which killed thirteen scientists and dozens of workers—had nearly destroyed the company's reputation. Government investigations loomed at the time, accusations of negligence and safety protocol violations hung in the air. Many predicted that Tsvetkov & SON. Inc would soon go bankrupt or be acquired by competitors.
But Alexei proved them wrong. With quick and decisive strategic steps—overhauling the management system, closing problematic divisions, and shifting development focus to low-risk products with high market demand—he managed to save the company. Within three years, debts were paid off, public trust was restored, and Tsvetkov & SON. Inc returned to being one of the main players in the Russian pharmaceutical industry.
Tsvetkov & SON. Inc was a company engaged in pharmaceuticals and biotechnology. They produced various types of prescription drugs, over-the-counter health products, and conducted research for next-generation therapies. Additionally, the company had several research facilities, factories, and testing laboratories spread across Moscow, Saint Petersburg, Novosibirsk, as well as two facilities abroad: one in Minsk, Belarus, and another in Almaty, Kazakhstan.
Aaron Yudovich Tsvetkov died about fifteen years ago—specifically in the winter of 1994, just a few weeks after the laboratory explosion that shook the company. His sudden death left many question marks, but authorities called it a heart attack due to severe stress. He left the entire company to his only son, who was only twenty years old at the time.
Alexei became famous overnight; a young man who inherited a multi-billion ruble company at a very young age. He took over power in the midst of a crisis, making many people—including his father's competitors and former colleagues—curious about the handsome, cold, and brilliant figure of Alexei Tsvetkov. Some admired him, others feared him. But no one dared to underestimate him.
*
Morning sunlight penetrated the glass window through the parted curtains, successfully disturbing someone who was fast asleep on a bed with ligeon grey sheets rumpled in several places. The man slowly woke up even though his eyelids were still heavy.
"Ughh..." A soft groan escaped his mouth as he tried to sit up on the edge of the bed while massaging his shoulders with alternating hands, stretching his sore muscles.
"My whole body aches so much," he muttered, yawning again.
Noel was confused when he found himself in a different room this morning. He raised his arm to shield his eyes from the glare of sunlight as his attention lifted toward the window, where grey curtains fluttered on both sides in the breeze.
Noel sighed softly. Lazily, he looked at the alarm clock beside the bed—9:35 AM. Trying to remember what happened last night only made his head spin. His body felt crushed, sore everywhere. Noel wondered, had he been sleepwalking and doing things in his sleep? The answer 'don't remember' was probably more accurate than 'don't know'.
Not long after, the sound of the bedroom door opening was heard, and a man entered.
"You're awake?" Gregory asked Noel, who was sitting on the edge of the bed rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah?" Noel answered softly, focusing his vision on the brown-haired man.
"Noel?" Gregory guessed, leaning his side against the doorframe.
"Hmmnn... it's me." There was a brief pause before he threw out a question, "Aren't we supposed to leave for Moscow today?"
Noel didn't know why that question came out of his mouth right after waking up. It seemed he really didn't remember what had actually happened that night.
Shrugging his shoulders, Gregory answered casually, "We're already in Moscow. This is where we're hiding."
Hearing this, Noel didn't immediately believe it. "What? But... when?" The man grew even more confused, and why wouldn't he be?
Gregory didn't intend to explain the situation in detail. The man shrugged again and answered briefly, "Two days ago."
It felt like just yesterday—that night he had accidentally met Alexei and fled from that man. After returning to the apartment, he had accidentally fallen asleep, and when he opened his eyes, he was in a different country.
Dazed, absorbing every word from Gregory in his head, Noel didn't give any significant reaction. Gregory, seeing the disbelief on Noel's face, approached to confirm. "So, you don't remember anything?"
Noel shook his head. "What happened during those two days?"
"Nothing happened. After the plane landed at the airport, you immediately fell asleep for two days," Gregory said—a lie that he continued to reassure Noel with.
So their memories don't connect even though they're in one body. If that's the case, I'd better keep what happened that night a secret. If I tell him what really happened, I don't know how he'll react, Gregory thought to himself.
On the other hand, Noel, who had received Gregory's answer to his question, also thought to himself. Is he telling me what really happened?
After both were lost in their own thoughts, Gregory finally said, "Never mind, don't think about it too much. You looked tired, so I didn't wake you up during those two days."
Noel's lips trembled silently, as if about to say something. However, he was quickly interrupted by the man in front of him. "Are you hungry?" Gregory asked, trying to change the subject.
Noel, remembering that he hadn't eaten since that night, nodded slowly, even though several unasked questions swirled in his mind.
"I've already ordered food. Clean yourself up first, at least wash your face. I'll go to the kitchen to heat up the food."
After that, the brown-haired man left.
Still on the edge of the bed, Noel's thoughts returned to Alexei. Had that man already returned from Manhattan? Or had he already returned like himself? Who knows, Noel didn't know.
Since waking up, Noel had tried to push aside thoughts about that man. Unfortunately, it was so difficult. In the end, Noel just sighed deeply. He stood up, then walked toward the bathroom.
*
That morning, the dining table was filled with an atmosphere of awkwardness. Both Gregory and Noel seemed unwilling to say anything. Noel knew that Gregory was hiding something from him. As for Gregory, he was again thinking about the plan that would be carried out—or rather, Nate's plan. Although his lips were sealed tight, his mind was busy strategizing, still searching for where to start. His attention occasionally turned to Noel, who was eating.
Seeing Nate's body now inhabited by Noel's soul made his personality one hundred and eighty degrees different. He thought Nate's body suited Noel's soul—his personality matched the face he now showed. Gregory became curious about what Noel looked like in his original body.
"You're not eating?" asked Noel, successfully breaking Gregory's reverie.
The brown-haired man smiled faintly. "I'm full." Once his attention focused on the empty bowl that had previously contained seaweed soup with large slices of beef and green onions—now completely gone—Gregory began to ask a serious question. "Can we talk?" His tone was more formal than before.
"Just talk, you seem to be having trouble saying it," Noel said after downing the water in his glass until it was empty. Seeing Gregory's silence for some time, Noel suspected that what the man was about to say was an extremely complicated problem.
Sure enough, after Noel stared at him seriously, Gregory finally spoke. "I already know why you can be inside Nate's body." That statement successfully made Noel fall silent. "He deliberately summoned your soul."
"W-what? How?" Unable to contain his curiosity, he asked in a somewhat stuttering voice. Waves of shock immediately struck his heart hard. Noel had never imagined—how could someone willingly sacrifice their own body to summon another person's soul, especially a stranger's? Because in the past, he never remembered having an acquaintance named Nate.
Gregory knew Noel would ask such a question. Even though he himself didn't really believe in mystical things, he still tried to answer as clearly as possible. "I don't know for sure either. It seems he once studied something like that—back when he was still at the orphanage where he lived."
Nate used to live in an orphanage? Noel's eyes blinked upon learning another fact about the man whose body he now occupied. Regardless of everything that had happened, he had no reason not to believe in transmigration. It's just that what Noel didn't understand was why Nate chose him. Why not someone else? Why did it have to be him?
"But why me?" Noel voiced the question he was thinking.
Gregory shook his head slowly. "I don't know for sure. If he intends to involve you in this matter, it must have something to do with you." He knew his friend better than anyone else in this world. Nate wasn't the type to randomly choose people. Anyone who knew him knew that. Because of that, Gregory could only accept Nate's decision—that choosing Noel was the right thing.
Noel was speechless. Although there were several questions still unanswered, his mind seemed to cramp upon receiving successive, absurd, and unacceptable facts.
After waiting a while to give Noel a chance to ask further questions, Gregory stood up from his chair when he was sure the man in front of him had no more questions. "Ready or not, it seems we have to start from now."
Noel also stood up. "Follow me!" Gregory requested. He took steps toward a room located in the elite apartment they now occupied.
[•°]