Chương 104: East Germany

December 2028, Berlin, East Germany, USSR Leo Chen walked through the Berlin-Schönefeld Airport terminal, surrounded by brutalist concrete and fluorescent lighting. Soviet insignia hung from the walls alongside East German flags, the hammer and sickle reminding him that he was now behind the Iron Curtain. The group had arrived for the IMO, the International Manifestations Olympiad.

The IMO was the premier formation theory competition for students under nineteen, split into three categories: Modern Formation Theory, Chinese Classical Formation Theory, and European Legacy Sect Manifestations. Vivian Xin was competing in the Modern category, where she was expected to place first. The top two finishers from each category would join Leo, Ella, and Thad in Pittsburgh to begin training for the Grand Formations Summit. Leo had been confused when he learned the IMO would be held in Berlin.

It would have made more sense to host the IMO in America, since America was responsible for sending a team to the Grand Formation Summit. But he didn't ask any questions, after all, he was curious to see what Berlin looked like under Soviet Rule. In his previous life, the Berlin Wall had fallen before he was born. The Soviet Union existed only as a chapter in his history textbook. Here, the red banner flew proudly over half of Europe, and East Germany remained firmly behind the Iron Curtain.

He wondered what his old history teacher would say. His mom had yelled at him after Leo got a B-plus on his exam about the fall of communism. Here, that exam was meaningless. His teacher had been wrong about everything. The Catacombs had changed everything. When the Berlin entrance opened in the eighties, the Western allies ceded the former capital entirely. Better to let the Soviets deal with the dimensional incursion than risk NATO lives. Forty years later, the decision still shaped the geopolitical landscape.

Mr. Morimoto stopped at the edge of the baggage claim area and turned to face his three students.

"Wait here," he said.

"I need assistance with my luggage." Leo glanced at his own carry-on. A single bag holding three days worth of clothes and his formation tools. Ella had brought two bags, but the second one contained only camera equipment for her content creation. Thad traveled even lighter, his worldly possessions apparently consisting of a few changes of clothes.

"What luggage?" Thad asked.

"We're here for three days."

"My luggage," Morimoto clarified. He adjusted his spectacles and gestured vaguely toward the oversized baggage carousel.

"It should be arriving momentarily." Thad crossed his arms.

"Is your age finally catching up with you? Need the young folks to carry your bags?"

"Respect your elders, Mr. Nyxalis." The carousel began moving. Standard suitcases and travel bags circulated past. Then something larger emerged from the loading area. A massive duffel bag rolled into view, wrapped entirely in bright yellow tape that read: DIPLOMATIC POUCH. UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Another one followed. Then another. Then three more. Six enormous duffel bags, each large enough to fit a grown man inside, each wrapped in official diplomatic tape. Leo looked at Morimoto.

The old man stood with his hands clasped behind his back, acting like this was perfectly normal and he had done this many times before. Every week Leo spent around this man peeled back another layer, and every layer underneath was worse than the one above it.

"Mr. Morimoto." Ella said slowly.

"Although I am not native to this realm, even I understand what a diplomatic pouch is supposed to contain." She stared at the parade of suspicious luggage.

"You are abusing international protocol to smuggle contraband into a foreign nation."

"Smuggling is such a harsh word." Morimoto began pulling the first bag off the carousel.

"I prefer to think of it as facilitating cultural exchange." He deposited two bags at Leo's feet and two more at Thad's.

"Carry these." Leo lifted one and tested the weight. It must have been at least fifty pounds.

"What's in here?"

"You'll see soon enough." Morimoto slung the remaining two bags over his own back with surprising ease.

"I can't wait to get rid of this stuff." He waved at a nearby airport aide.

"You there. Take their carry-ons to the hotel. We have business to attend to." The aide looked confused but took their personal items without argument. The diplomatic tape seemed to settle any questions the he might of had.

"Follow me," Morimoto said.

"We're going straight to the black market." Leo exchanged glances with Ella and Thad. None of them could be surprised by anything Morimoto did anymore. They followed their instructor through the airport and out into the cold Berlin air. A convoy of black cars waited at the curb. Morimoto climbed into the lead vehicle without hesitation, and the students piled in after him, diplomatic pouches and all. The drive took them through gray streets lined with Soviet-era architecture.

Apartment blocks rose in identical rows, their facades weathered by decades of neglect. Propaganda posters decorated occasional walls, exhorting workers to greater productivity and vigilance against Western influence. The car stopped in front of a nondescript building in what appeared to be an industrial district. Warehouses surrounded them on all sides. The only sign of activity was a side door guarded by two men in plain clothes. Morimoto stepped out of the car and immediately found himself surrounded.

A dozen officers materialized from the shadows, forming a loose cordon around the group. Their uniforms bore the insignia of the KGB. A man in a KGB uniform and long gray coat emerged from the building. He was middle-aged, with sharp features and the calculating eyes of someone who had survived decades in intelligence work. He approached Morimoto with the wary familiarity of an old acquaintance.

"Kenji." The man's English carried a heavy Russian accent.

"You should not be here."

"Viktor." Morimoto spread his arms wide, diplomatic pouches swaying.

"I'm just here to see an old friend." Viktor ignored the question and turned to the three students.

"Welcome to German Democratic Republic," he said. His smile didn't reach his eyes.

"I am Senior Inspector Viktor Volkov. You are weary from travels, yes? Perhaps you return to hotel and rest." Thad spoke up before anyone else could respond.

"Actually, we're here because we want to know what Mr. Morimoto brought in those bags." Leo and Ella nodded in agreement. Viktor's smile flickered.

"Don't we all." He gestured toward the waiting cars.

"But this is not place for such discussions. There is nothing here. Go back to accommodations." Morimoto was already walking toward the building's side entrance.

"Let's skip the pleasantries, Viktor." He pushed past the guards without slowing.

"Come on now, let me in. One of these bags is for you." He gave Viktor a wink. The KGB officers parted before him. None of them moved to stop him. Leo watched with growing confusion. A convicted counterfeiter was openly bribing the Soviet secret police, and everyone was totally okay with it. He shrugged and followed. Thad and Ella fell in behind him. Viktor's composure cracked. He strode after them, his coat flapping.

"Morimoto! You cannot bribe me. I am incorruptible."

"I know, I know." Morimoto didn't break stride.

"You've told me many times. But here's the thing, Viktor." He paused at the entrance and turned to face the inspector.

"You have subordinates. And your subordinates have families. Children. Needs." Viktor's jaw tightened.

"You can't make every decision alone," Morimoto continued.

"You have to consider everyone's interests. Remember last time I visited? There's a reason everyone showed up again today." He smiled.

"Relax. I've got you covered." A commotion erupted from inside the building. Two uniformed officers emerged, dragging a woman between them. She was middle-aged, with ink-stained fingers and the hunched posture of someone who spent long hours at a workbench.

"Morimoto!" She kicked against her captors.

"You should not have come back! You have ruined everything!"

"Relax, Helga." Morimoto waved a dismissive hand.

"I brought good stuff this time. Just for you my old friend. It's Japanese." Helga stopped struggling. Her eyes widened.

"The Kuretake Menso micro-bristle formation brush?" The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Morimoto gave her a wink.

"Now boys," Morimoto called out to the officers.

"We can stop putting on a show for the kids. Since when have you guys cared about the black market?" He clapped his hands together.

"Time to release her and clear out the room." The KGB men didn't move and instead stared at him and pretended they didn't know what he was talking about. Leo, Thad, and Ella glanced back at Morimoto, wondering if his chutzpah could actually work on the Soviet secret police. Morimoto reached for the zipper on one of his diplomatic pouches.

"What, you want me to open this right here? Let Helga watch you receive your souvenirs I brought for you?" The effect was immediate. Officers began moving with sudden urgency, herding Helga deep into the building and away from the entrance. Dozens of men, previously hidden, suddenly made themselves known and came over to take a look. Leo blinked. So much for incorruptible. The theatrical arrest of Helga, Viktor's protests about inspection, all of it was just for show.

Everyone performed their roles until it came time to receive their share of the spoils. Morimoto led Leo and the group of KGB personnel into the side room. They crowded around Morimoto, watching him with a mixture of suspicion and poorly concealed anticipation. Viktor sighed heavily.

"I had better not see illegal contraband in those bags, Kenji."

"This bag?" Morimoto patted the pouch he was about to open.

"No contraband in this one. I promise."

"And the others?"

"Look, Viktor." Morimoto pointed at the yellow tape.

"It clearly says diplomatic pouch. Although this is my first time enjoying the privilege, even I understand what that means." He smiled.

"You can look. But you can't touch." Viktor crossed his arms and said nothing. Morimoto produced a small knife from his sleeve and began cutting away the tape on the first bag. The yellow strips fell away to reveal a heavy-duty zipper. He pulled it open with theatrical slowness. The contents gleamed under the fluorescent lights.

"First." Morimoto reached inside and withdrew several cartons of cigarettes.

"Marlboro Tier Two Spiritual Cigarettes. Grown in Kentucky using proper cultivation techniques." He set them aside.

"I understand the Soviet Union prohibits using spiritual qi in tobacco farming. Something about decadence and moral corruption." Viktor's expression remained stony, but several junior officers shifted their weight.

"Second." More items emerged from the bag.

"Specialty Tier Two coffee beans from Devoción. Grown in Colombian spiritual fields, roasted in Brooklyn, sealed with freshness formations." He stacked the bags next to the cigarettes.

"I'm told good coffee is difficult to find east of the wall." He continued unpacking with the enthusiasm of a game show host.

"For the wives." Boxes of Korean skincare products joined the pile, followed by elegant bottles of French perfume.

"And for the children." Bars of Swiss chocolate, wrapped in gold foil, their spiritual preservation formations still glowing faintly. The pile grew. The officers watched with poorly concealed interest.

"And for the inspector himself." Morimoto reached for his own wrist and began removing a watch. His sleeve rode up, accidentally revealing four more watches stacked beneath it. He quickly tugged his sleeve back down and cleared his throat.

"Swiss mechanical. Self-winding. Completely mundane, no formations whatsoever." He pressed the timepiece into Viktor's hand.

"No spiritual qi means no reporting requirements. Just a simple gift between colleagues." Viktor stared at the watch. His fingers closed around it slowly. He glanced at his subordinates dividing the cigarettes among themselves, then slipped the timepiece into his coat pocket without putting it on. Morimoto kicked the now-empty duffel bag toward the nearest officer.

"You can keep the bag too. It's Lululemon." So this was how things worked behind the Iron Curtain. The official line said everyone shared equally and nobody needed luxury goods. The unofficial line said KGB officers would let Morimoto do whatever he wanted for a duffel bag of cigarettes and Korean skincare. Communism, Leo decided, worked differently in reality than on paper. Morimoto gestured for his students to follow and began walking deeper into the building.

"Come along, children. The interesting part is this way. Let's go find Helga now." The KGB officers parted before him once again. A corridor opened up, leading into the heart of the black market. Leo hefted his diplomatic pouches and followed his instructor into the shadows.

A masked man led them through a maze of corridors that twisted beneath the industrial district. Bare concrete gave way to older brickwork, then to stone passages that predated the building above. Viktor caught up within minutes, having traded his KGB uniform for a nondescript gray coat and worker's cap. The journey ended in a chamber that might once have been a wine cellar. Vaulted ceilings arched overhead, and formation lights cast steady illumination across workbenches cluttered with half-finished arrays.

Helga waited for them at a central table, her ink-stained fingers drumming against the wood. She had changed out of her workbench clothes into something more presentable, though the ink stains on her hands remained.

"Ah, you made it." She straightened as they entered.

"And you brought the inspector. How nice." Viktor inclined his head.

"Apologies for earlier, Helga. My men were too eager. It happens."

"Bah." She waved a hand.

"I am used to it already. Everyone has roles to play, yes? You arrest me, your superiors get a call, I get released, and we pretend nothing happened. Is how things work." Morimoto set his remaining duffel bags on the table and motioned for Leo and Thad to do the same. Five bags in total, still wrapped in their diplomatic tape. Morimoto looked at them for a moment, picked one of them and pulled it back, and handed it to Thad. Thad went back to holding it with a grunt. Helga smiled.

Then the remaining four bags vanished. Leo blinked. A storage ring. On both Earth and the Catacombs, Void stone was simply too rare and strategic for anyone below the highest levels to possess. A storage ring signaled immense power and influence. Thad let out a low whistle. Ella's composure cracked, her violet eyes widening as her hand flew to her chest. Viktor shot to his feet.

"Helga! They could execute you for carrying that. The Politburo has strict protocols on void stone artifacts."

"Then perhaps you should keep your nose where it belongs, yes?" Helga's smile didn't waver.

"Do you really think this is my ring, Viktor?"

"This is game of monarchs. Unlike our guests..." She gestured toward Morimoto and the students.

"... who can leave whenever they please, you are stuck behind Iron Curtain." Viktor's mouth opened, then closed. A game of monarchs. Leo let that phrase settle. Helga and the black market must be linked to a Deity Transformation Monarch. Helga leaned forward, her eyes sharp.

"Do you really want to stay? You might see things you are not supposed to see." Viktor's expression hardened. He sat back down slowly.

"If monarchs want to kill me, I die when they decide. I would rather die with eyes open, knowing who killed me."

"I'd rather not die at all," Morimoto said.

"Same," Leo added.

"Agreed," Thad said. Viktor scowled and waved a hand.

"Get on with it." Helga reached toward her ring again. Four boxes materialized on the table, each one carved from dark wood and sealed with formation locks. She slid the first toward Morimoto.

"For you, old friend." He opened it with the eagerness of a child receiving a birthday present. Inside, nestled in velvet, lay a pair of spectacles. The frames were titanium, and the lenses reflected light in ways ordinary glass never could. Morimoto removed his current spectacles and replaced them with the new pair. His eyes widened behind the lenses.

"Oh my. Oh, these are magnificent."

"Soviet optics are unparalleled," Helga said, addressing the students.

"Even compared to what your Catacombs produces. These are Zeiss. Westerners call them Carl Zeiss Jena." She spat.

"Western version is knockoff, yes? These are the real Zeiss." She opened two more boxes, revealing contact lenses resting on beds of black velvet. The lenses were nearly invisible; only a faint iridescence betrayed their presence.

"For the young Nyxalis." She pushed one box toward Ella, the other toward Thad.

"These contacts allow you to inspect the flows of spiritual qi without specialized equipment." Leo frowned. That sounded useful, but hardly worth the secrecy. Any decent formation scope could accomplish something similar.

"The key difference," Helga continued, "is that prolonged use trains your brain. You begin to understand spiritual qi on deeper level. You perceive qualities that divine sense alone cannot reveal." She smiled.

"The eye and the mind, they learn together. They adapt." Ella's hand moved toward her box, then stopped. She straightened and offered a formal bow.

"The Oblivion Cult extends its gratitude. Would it be possible to establish a trade channel for such items?" Helga shook her head.

"A gift from old ancestor to a junior is one thing. But these are heavily restricted. Even I cannot procure more." Thad reached for his box.

"Wait." Helga held up a hand. She pushed the fourth box toward Leo.

"This one is more special. Personal gift from above." She pointed toward the ceiling. Her smile carried a weight that made Leo's skin prickle. He opened the box. Inside lay two contact lenses that looked identical to the others. Helga had pointed at the ceiling, she was acting on behalf of a monarch. Leo turned the box in his hands and wondered why a monarch would bother sending a personal gift to a Qi Refining teenager. And what they expected in return.

"These are Orthokeratology lenses," Helga explained.

"Ortho-k, for short. You wear them eight hours each day, and changes persist for remaining sixteen. You will naturally perceive qualities of spiritual qi that human eye and divine sense cannot detect on their own." She paused.

"But there is one key difference. After few years of consistent use, changes become permanent. You will know transformation is complete when lenses shatter and dissolve." Leo stared at the lenses.

"Permanent?"

"The Heavenly Dao speaks to all cultivators. Most hear only whispers. These lenses teach your eyes to hear little more." Leo wasn't entirely sure what she meant, but it sounded exceptionally valuable. He looked at Ella and Thad. They stared at his box with expressions he couldn't quite read. Helga followed his gaze.

"Here is your chance, young Nyxalis." She addressed both siblings.

"If you want me to upgrade your lenses to Ortho-k version, you can provide gift in return." Thad looked at his sister. Ella's brow furrowed. She bit her lip. Then she reached into her collar and withdrew a necklace. A small piece of black stone hung from the chain, no larger than a thumbnail. It drank the light around it. She held it out to Helga. Morimoto sucked in a breath.

"Miss Nyxalis. Is that what I think it is?" Ella's voice was steady.

"A small piece of Tier Six obsidian." Viktor made a strangled sound. Leo's mind raced. Tier Six. Void Refining level materials. The kind of treasures that didn't even exist on Earth. Helga accepted the necklace with careful hands. She examined the stone for a long moment, then nodded.

"Indeed, is valuable." She reached into her ring and produced another contact lens case.

"But unfortunately, only enough to upgrade one pair." She replaced the box of lenses in front of Ella with the Ortho-k version.

"One is enough." Ella slid the box across the table toward Thad.

"For you." Thad pushed it back immediately.

"No."

"Thad..."

"Ella." His voice was firm.

"I know what I'm good at. Formations aren't my path. Take it." Ella studied him for a long moment. Something passed between the siblings.

"You're certain?" He grinned.

"When have I ever cared about formations? Take it." Ella pulled the box back toward herself. She palmed it and put it away. Leo watched the exchange with growing confusion.

"These are that valuable? I've heard it's nearly impossible to trade for Nascent Soul level treasures. I can't imagine what Void Refining artifacts cost." Thad turned to him.

"This isn't about cultivation levels, Leo. This is a matter of the Dao. A small piece of Void Refining material is valuable, sure."

"But how can any of that compare to the Heavenly Dao?"