Though no one said it aloud, everyone knew that abandoning the Lake Baikal region was only a matter of time.
The fisherman put down his binoculars and climbed down from the watchtower.
Minister Sergei sat slumped against the concrete base of the tower, his face ashen, cigarette butts piled around his feet.
The fisherman glanced at his superior and sighed.
Minister Sergei had far worse luck than he did...
He had a son and a daughter.
Minister Sergei's son was twenty-four this year. The year he graduated from university, he successfully entered Tianshu Tower. He was now the chief officer of Tianshu Tower's Baikal City office, with an immeasurably bright future ahead of him;
His daughter was seventeen, the belle of Baikal City No. 1 High School. Last year, the fisherman had accompanied Sergei to the school's Christmas gala. The girl had led a group of girls her age in a ballet performance of "Swan Lake." Dressed in a white ballet skirt, she had stood at the front as the lead dancer, freely displaying the grace of her youth, like a proud little swan...
Even now, the fisherman remembered the sight of the girl dancing lightly across the stage on tiptoe to the rhythm of the music.
Minister Sergei had once possessed an enviable family and life, yet all of it had turned to ashes when Yi 77 descended from the sky.
"Boss..." The fisherman had wanted to ask, "Are you okay?" But on second thought, such a seemingly concerned question was simply idiotic—everything had already become as bad as it could possibly get. How could anyone be "okay"?
"Want some vodka?" After a pause, the fisherman pulled a white tin flask from his pocket.
Sergei raised his head and looked at the fisherman with bloodshot eyes before saying hoarsely,