CAPTURING REDEMPTION

CHAPTER 1: MEETING ON GOD'S WHIM

It was that time of the month.

The last day—or should Yevgeny Bogdanov say—night of the month.

On that frost-kissed winter night in Seoul, the city shimmered under the soft glow of twinkling Christmas lights. Festive decorations adorned every corner, casting a warm, inviting aura over the bustling streets. Shop windows displayed elaborate holiday scenes, while the scent of roasted chestnuts and spicy teokbokki wafted through the air.

He scoffed, "it's only November."

He despised the way people eagerly embraced holidays, as if the mere anticipation could inject joy into their mundane lives—an emotion he himself couldn't grasp. He sneered at the blind obedience to capitalist greed veiled behind the glitzy holiday displays. The notion of incessant gift-giving seemed absurd to him, a futile attempt to buy into fleeting happiness.

Amidst this merry atmosphere, couples strolled hand in hand, their laughter mingling with the gentle hum of the city. Some paused to admire the dazzling holiday displays, while others shared whispered secrets beneath the glow of streetlamps adorned with holly and mistletoe.

As he stood outside the restaurant, his breath forming clouds in the crisp night air, he couldn't help but feel like an outsider in this sea of holiday cheer. The sight of couples wrapped in each other's arms served as a poignant reminder of how empty he felt within, as the last day of the month dwindled away, a sense of desolation settled over him like a heavy blanket.

Each passing pair seemed to mock him with their happiness, their love a stark contrast to the emptiness that gnawed at him from within. Despite the festive backdrop, he couldn't shake the feeling of isolation that seemed to envelop him like a heavy cloak.

As much as he dismissed the significance of holidays, the blond-haired man couldn't help but yearn to experience the emotions they seemed to evoke in others. The concepts of smiles and happiness were foreign to him, yet he couldn't shake the curiosity of whether he would ever truly understand and feel them.

Even the promise of Christmas, with its message of hope and joy, felt distant and unattainable to him. As he watched the couples disappear into the night, their laughter fading into the distance, he couldn't help but wonder if there was more he needed to accomplish in order to feel that satisfaction that canvased those people's faces.

The distant sounds of laughter and conversation from inside the restaurant only served to amplify his annoyance. He watched couples pass by, their warmth and intimacy contrasting sharply with his own solitary existence. Despite the festive cheer that filled the air, he could not shake the feeling of boredom that consumed him.

Inside, he knew his colleagues were eagerly awaiting his arrival, ready to toast him once again as the "Journalist of the Month." But such accolades felt meaningless to him now, mere tokens of his success in a world that no longer held any joy for him.

The thrill that pushed him to reach the top on his own was gradually but surely expiring.

As he took another drag from his cigarette, the man couldn't help but reflect on the path that had led him here. The relentless pursuit of success had consumed him, driving him to outshine his peers and climb the corporate ladder at breakneck speed. But now, standing at the pinnacle of his career, he found himself questioning the price he had paid.

The sheer indifference towards other human beings turned into the source of loneliness. The ingenuine smiles were nothing less than the steps he took to reach the pinnacle of his goal. Now that he was half-way on the top, he could not find one person he could name, 'comrade'.

Not that he was desperate to have one, since the annoying moodiness and unpredictability stemming from all the human relationships he had been in, were enough to chide himself back to reality. Human beings with impure minds were not worth the chase, at least that's what the Russian reporter knew from being surrounded by such minds day and night.