Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 167 Donikov's Dream

Siberia, Irkutsk, Tunguska region.

The tires rolled over the moss on the frozen ground as the Ford Raptor drove through what could barely be called a road.

Stella held her hat down and leaned out the window, the wind blowing her short hair around her ears.

As far as the eye can see, the high sky in the distance seems to be divided in two, and underfoot, apart from the winding road leading forward, there is only an endless expanse of bluish-gray earth.

Although there are no large trees around, it exudes a unique and magnificent beauty.

“This is a wonderful place; we should come here often,” Stella said to the people around her.

"That's a good idea," Qin Hao casually agreed, looking at the road ahead.

"What you said, how about next month?" The woman poked his waist with her slender fingers.

The wheels rolled forward, and after a while, a small black dot appeared on the horizon, which then began to grow larger and larger.

When the Ford Raptor drove up to the vicinity, it found itself in front of a small cluster of buildings.

An area of ​​more than two hectares was fenced off, with several museum-style buildings standing on it, and construction vehicles occasionally hauling cement and building materials through it.

A sculpture nearly 6 meters tall, including its base, was erected at the entrance—a life-size Tiger II tank made of cement.

"What is Donikov doing?!" Qin Hao stared in disbelief at what was in front of him.

“Of course, we’re building a museum.” A voice came from behind the two people.

A Russian wearing a hard hat suddenly appeared from somewhere, hands on his hips, and said, "Qin, my good brother, I told you, when I have money, I'll build myself a museum."

Donikov stood in front of the two men with a smile on his face.

Two years have passed, and my once somewhat rough friend has changed completely; he now exudes a much more composed and mature aura.

But Qin Hao couldn't quite put his finger on what was different.

In the still-unfinished living room, the three men sat facing each other. Donikov took drinks from the cabinet and handed them to the other two, then apologized to his former partner:

"I'm sorry I haven't told you yet. I was planning to let you know after everything was fixed."

"Apologizing as soon as we meet, this isn't like you at all." Qin Hao raised his glass and clinked it with his old friend.

Stella picked up the glass in her hand, smelled it, and then rolled her eyes—it contained whiskey.

On the other side, Qin Hao picked up his glass, downed the whiskey in one gulp, then smiled and pointed to his surroundings, "Tell me about your story?"

Donikov downed his glass of wine in one gulp, then poured himself another. "About a year ago, I was lucky enough to find several 14th-century masterpieces."

"At that time, several large sellers appeared in the Middle East and offered prices that were 1.5 times higher than normal. The transactions went smoothly and all payments were made in one lump sum."

The Russian then concluded, "So, as you can see, I'm quite wealthy now."

"It's that simple?!"

"Well, it's that simple."

"Quite rich? How much have you actually made?" Stella pursed her lips.

Donikov raised his glass for the third time and gestured with his hand, "Around 8000 million."

"ruble?"

"Sorry, it's in US dollars."

"Damn it! Lady Luck is blind." Stella sat down next to Qin Hao and gave him a second disapproving look.

However, Qin Hao, who had been silent, had his own thoughts at this moment.

Donikov probably didn't tell the truth, or at least not the whole story.

Although the antique business relies heavily on luck, the chances of getting rich overnight are still too small. After all, we live in an era of information overload, and the kind of accidental "bargain hunting" of the past has almost disappeared.

Even if Donikov was incredibly lucky, it's still petty for the security agency to come knocking on his door for a mere $8000 million.

There must be something I don't know.

However, it's the rule in this business not to pry into other people's sources of funding, and since Donikov has already said so, I shouldn't pry any further.

So he had to change the subject.

"Hey buddy, why did you decide to build a museum, and why did you choose this location?" he asked, pointing to the construction site outside the window. "Didn't I tell you? My dream used to be to build my own museum when I had money. As for why I chose this place," the drunken Russian man said, pointing to the view outside the window.

Do you know how much the rent for this land for construction is over 50 years?

"How much?" Stella interjected, glancing curiously at the land outside the window.

Donikov held up two fingers.

"200."

"Dollars?"

"Sorry, it's rubles."

"........."

Stella suddenly didn't want to talk to the guy in front of her anymore.

Qin Hao had no choice but to continue the conversation, "So, the land cost for this museum is almost zero; it's mainly the finished building and the exhibits?"

“That’s about it, so I can invest more money in my hobbies.” Donikov then slapped his thigh, stood up excitedly, and led the way.

"Come on! I'll show you my collection."

At the back gate of the "museum" were parked trucks of varying sizes, numbering about thirty or forty, each covered with a tarpaulin.

Donikov walked to the front of a vehicle, pulled hard with his hand, and a rusty, grass-green figure appeared in front of them.

A T34 tank.

And almost all the vehicles around us were covered in this kind of stuff.

KV series tanks, classic T series tanks, Il-2 attack aircraft, Crusader tank, Stalin's Organ...

"Where did you get all these good things?" Qin Hao's eyes lit up when he saw so many "treasures," after all, these kinds of things have a special charm for men of their age.

"Buy from a closed museum, very cheap. Bulk purchase price is half the retail price, full payment with a formal invoice." Donikov patted the big guy next to him proudly, accidentally leaving a pile of rust on his clothes.

"I've got about 30 large exhibits, ranging from the early Soviet era to the Cold War. Oh, by the way, let me show you my most prized possession, it just arrived yesterday morning!"

Donikov led the two men to the only place with a rain shelter and uncovered the tarpaulin in front of them.

A PO-2 biplane painted with a red five-pointed star.

As an old-fashioned aircraft researched in 1928, this thing was originally used to spray pesticides, but in the early stages of the war, the Soviet Red Army suffered heavy losses in the air force, so the government brought it out again for low-altitude bombing, and surprisingly it achieved good results.

Because this type of aircraft uses wood as its main structure, it is very easy to damage. Due to its outdated model, it was basically a consumable during World War II. Although many were built during the war, the number that still exists is not large, and those in such good condition are even fewer.

The aircraft in front of us is in very good condition; if it were put on the market, it would be more expensive than that T-34 tank.

"You wouldn't believe it, but I found it in a museum in Minsk. I paid almost double the price to get it here. It's in good basic condition, and if you're willing to take the risk, it might even fly."

The two discussed these "big toys" for a long time, and Qin Hao didn't ask any more questions about the Security Bureau until they left.

Given their friendship, he believed that Donikov would come to him if he wanted to.

“The nearest hotel is 80 kilometers away. Why don’t you stay here tonight? I have everything you need.” Donikov opened the door to the room behind him and led the two of them to the lounge.

As he was about to leave, he suddenly remembered something: "Oh, right, the weather here is very extreme at night, so remember to wear more clothes if you're going out."

At night, the full moon hangs high in the sky, and there seems to be fog rising outside. The faint sound of machines at work can also be heard.

In the guest room provided by Donikov, Qin Hao lay alone on the bed, his thoughts racing.

Unable to sleep, Qin Hao decided not to sleep at all. He put on his clothes, got up, and beckoned Odin the raven. The two of them then went outside.

Workers are hoisting exhibits in the distance.

Upon closer inspection, Qin Hao realized it was the same PO-2 biplane from earlier that day.

I was about to go over and take a look, but then I heard the sound of pages turning.

You are the sage of the night, your messenger soars through the sky, that rustling sound is the witch's broom sweeping across the heavens.

Remember to protect your messengers; they are actually very vulnerable.

[Quest: The Witch Under the Moonlight Begins]

(End of this chapter)