Chapter 14
The voice on the other end of the phone paused for a long time, as if trying to think.
After finishing his sentence, Ye Yihe also fell silent—not because of the internet meme he had just blurted out, but because of the other person's pronunciation.
It sounds like Japanese no matter how I listen to it...
On the bright side, what if the person who just happened to call was from Japan, and not someone who had actually come to Japan?
Speaking of the original owner, whose real name was Fyodor, besides being able to deduce from details that he was extremely proficient in religion and music, he was also fluent in Japanese... This guy was simply a genius.
The criminal identity that was revealed at the beginning of the story has been troubling Ye Yihe ever since—but this troubling is no longer about thinking of reasonable explanations to exonerate the other party; instead, it has given rise to a sense of vigilance.
Otherwise, I wouldn't have specifically asked the system about rationalizing the other party's memory.
The reason is simple. The original owner's body was about fifteen or sixteen years old, thin, anemic, weak, slightly hunchbacked, and had a habit of biting his nails, and had not continued his studies.
With these labels attached to him, living in a period of economic turmoil marked by small-scale conflicts and soaring prices, and without any signs of financial support from his parents or other elders, he would likely have had a very difficult life, making it understandable that he would ultimately commit a minor offense.
Under such conditions, even going to prison wouldn't be any better than being outside. Inside, there are ruthless thugs who kill without blinking an eye, and fifteen or sixteen-year-old boys would only suffer a more gruesome death if they went in.
Even though Ye Yihe became a fugitive with his little bit of help, Ye Yihe was prepared for this lonely and helpless boy to end up on the streets, and for him to do everything he could to escape his misery and, incidentally, do good deeds to save his life.
Things took an unexpected turn. Fyodor first easily entered the church, a place where one could be said to have the least worries about food and clothing, and then, within just four months, he was promoted to assistant professor at a top music academy...
Even Ye Yihe couldn't help but ask: How did they do that?
Moreover, he even made Ivan his fanatic... he really could be called a fanatic. Ye Yihe hadn't forgotten the oath the other party made when he first appeared, and the handsome young man Ivan looked at least six years older than this body.
And now... he glanced around and found himself sitting in a rather spacious room.
It was really quite spacious. Apart from one wall with a full-length glass window, the only two pieces of furniture in the view were two chairs, one of which was under his butt.
The other one was placed opposite him, empty; it's unclear whether anyone had ever sat in it.
Judging from the room's decor alone, it's impossible to tell where you are.
Ye Yihe looked around, then got up and went to the French windows.
The sun is about to move to the other side of the horizon, and the warm golden rays of the setting sun hang in the sky, casting a bright orange halo over the glass facades of tall buildings—so bright that it can be dazzling if you accidentally get too close to the reflected light.
This dense traffic, the city where buildings are clustered together to save land, and the gently rippling sea in the distance...
His facial features and figure could still be vaguely seen in the glass window, no different from before, as if he had not changed into a new body.
...Ye Yihe withdrew his gaze expressionlessly.
Very well, he has indeed changed countries this time, crossing almost an entire continent, with a straight-line distance of at least seven thousand kilometers.
He had worked so hard and finally made some progress in learning Russian, but suddenly it became completely useless.
…Flower Q.
I'll say it again, HuaQ.
What were you saying just now?
The static was still clearly audible from the other end of the phone, and the other person recognized Ye Yihe's native language: "Chinese?"
"Hmm," Ye Yihe responded faintly, without saying anything more.
Although he has benefited from watching Japanese-related films and television shows for a long time, he knows a few common Japanese words, which is better than his complete lack of Russian knowledge—perhaps even better than his Russian, which he has studied diligently for many days.
However, in such a highly suspicious call, it's best to avoid revealing your true identity if possible.
[V] something... The only related work he could think of was V for Vendetta, but that was a British and American movie, and the story didn't take place in Japan.
Judging from the other party's respectful attitude, could it be that, in addition to being a criminal, a clergyman, and a music teaching assistant, this Fyodor not only traveled all the way to Japan, but also became a high-ranking member of this organization in a short period of time?
This is really...very busy.
Just as Ye Yihe was about to hang up, another voice came from the other end of the phone.
"Please forgive my ignorance, I cannot understand the Chinese you are speaking. But I assure you, the plan will proceed smoothly, and [that person] will surely be ours... If you are interested, you can also come to the 'World Theater' to watch, and I assure you no one will associate this accident with you."
The more it sounded like a kidnapping case, and he was a high-ranking member of the organization who wouldn't get his hands dirty, with the target being a place called "World Theater".
Could this person who has been targeted also be the target of his wicked schemes?
Ye Yihe pondered for a moment, hummed in agreement, and then hung up the phone amidst the other party's delighted compliments.
The room, which had been empty, suddenly became surrounded by four or five armed men dressed as guards or soldiers.
...Compared to being treated like an honored guest on the phone, the current situation makes him feel more like a hostage being monitored.
Ye Yihe's gaze swept over the fully armed soldiers, and he quickly assessed the difference in strength between the two sides in his mind.
Well, with my previous physical abilities, I might have been able to win against these guys with a 60/40 chance, but now, with this weak body that can't even lift a wardrobe and needs Ivan's help... I could barely beat one or two, but the rest would be uncertain.
So, with a calm expression, Ye Yihe quietly accepted the lead of one of them and followed him out of the empty room, down the stairs one step at a time.
Only after stepping outside the gate could Ye Yihe see that it was a four-story building with freshly painted facade, suggesting it had been recently built.
But the interior decoration was far less impressive than it appeared from the outside. There wasn't a proper office, and not even a single extra light on the ceiling. At first, he thought it was some kind of abandoned factory.
A plain-looking sedan was parked at the entrance. The soldier, who hadn't spoken to Ye Yihe the entire time, silently opened the car door and invited him to get in.
Compared to more extreme treatments like respect, surveillance, or detention, Ye Yihe gradually felt that he was being treated with suspicion.
However, his limited Japanese vocabulary was also insufficient to support him in mastering the difficult communication skill of using "clichés," so he could only maintain an unfathomable silence throughout the journey.
Let's go and see what that so-called "script" is all about.
Fortunately, the soldier who acted as the driver was very professional and did not ask any questions throughout the entire journey. He only handed Ye Yihe a ticket after arriving at the destination.
Fortunately, he remembered to give him a ticket. Ye Yihe searched all his pockets, but apart from the cell phone, he couldn't find a single Japanese yen coin.
...That was close, I almost couldn't even get through the door.
He turned on his Russian-language phone, which he could now understand a few words, and dialed Ivan's number.
The worst-case scenario is that we'll have to stay for several more days, in which case money becomes an essential survival resource... Good brother Ivan, lend him some money.
"No one's answering... Is it a time difference?"
Ye Yihe muttered something to himself and put away his phone as he stepped into the theater.
Although he couldn't understand the title, the time on the ticket was almost up, so he decided to take his seat first, just in case he could finish quickly this time.
The theater's signage was very prominent, and given that the small groups of people there were mostly there for this play, Ye Yihe easily found his seat.
Being in the very front row meant having to tilt your head slightly upwards to see the actors on stage; the view from below was rather awkward.
No matter how you look at it, it's not the best viewing spot. Ye Yihe would prefer to sit two rows back.
Moreover, the original owner—Fyodor—always wore a fluffy white felt hat with ear flaps and knee-high leather boots with turned-up cuffs; even the black cloak worn over his clothes had a collar edged with clean, fluffy white fur, which was very warm.
Although the hat sometimes slips down and blocks the view, and is easily blown askew in strong winds, Ye Yihe has to admit that for his weak and cold-sensitive body, such an outfit is indeed both warm and comfortable, and extremely practical.
This outfit, which is quite ordinary in Russia, becomes exceptionally striking in another country.
At least Ye Yihe was certain that the black-haired boy sitting next to him had swung his legs and glanced at him more than once during the few minutes of waiting for the show to start.
Ye Yihe tilted his head to look back, “…?”
Instead, the other person turned their head back as if no one else was there and spoke to the other person next to them, "Uncle, don't you think he looks a lot like me?"
This "he" refers to Ye Yihe.
Ye Yihe, who was called out by a super loud voice, was a little puzzled, “…………”
They look similar in some ways, except they seem to be around the same age, and both are wearing capes and hats—their styles are completely different, aren't they? He looks thin and weak, while this boy has a loud and clear voice, full of energy.
One sentence was enough to draw the attention of the audience on the left, right, and behind. Luckily, this wasn't during a theatrical performance, or it would probably have resulted in complaints.
Fortunately, the kimono-clad man with naturally silver hair gave him the same answer, emphasizing that the performance was about to begin and asking him to remain quiet.
Ranpo,
The other person's voice was very calm and steady, giving a strong sense of security as soon as they opened their mouth.
Facing the black-haired boy who still wanted to say something, he lowered his voice and softened his tone, "Shh, you can't make a lot of noise here."
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