"Hey, before you know it, it's already so late?"

Outside Piskarev Cemetery, Newt raised his head and looked at the darkening sky.

Moscow is still a long way from St. Petersburg. In order to avoid exposing his identity in front of Ivanov, Newt finally chose to take the train here with the old man instead of taking a more "wizard" approach.

In fact, now it seems that this is actually a very lucky and extremely correct choice.

After all, strictly speaking, Ivanovich was ultimately convicted of "violating the Statute of Secrecy" by the wizard's court. As a well-known top wizard in the wizarding world today, Newt would inevitably arouse some suspicion if he was too high-profile.

"Sorry, Mr. Ivanov, I still have some things to deal with. How about we stop here today... We will meet here again at nine o'clock tomorrow morning? Of course, I will help you pay for the accommodation expenses.

of……"

Newt took out his pocket watch, took a look at it, and pointed at the "Motherland-Mother" sculpture at the entrance to the cemetery.

As he spoke, Newt took out a small pile of banknotes from his wallet and prepared to hand it to Ivanov.

Since the disintegration of the Soviet Union, the ensuing Great Depression has severely impacted the entire Russia, and even every field in the entire European country. The Piskarev Cemetery, which was once crowded with people, has become the most deserted.

place.

Few foreign tourists come here to pay their respects. There are many more interesting and historic attractions in St. Petersburg than here.

As for the residents living in this city, they almost never come here. The heavy pressure of life has long left them no time to miss the past. Just maintaining the most basic food and clothing is already a very difficult thing.

Therefore, Piskalev Cemetery has become the most secluded and safe corner in St. Petersburg.

"Mr. Scamander, you... okay, thank you."

Ivanov was about to subconsciously refuse, but then he suddenly stopped mid-sentence. After hesitating for a few seconds, he gritted his teeth and took the pile of banknotes from Newt Scamander, smiling awkwardly.

Laughed.

"I don't have any medals for sale anymore, but I will definitely find another batch for you tomorrow, and the guide fee for the next week is also included in it. As long as it's in Russia, even if I'm not that familiar with it,

city, I will definitely help you find a reliable local guide——"

All the medals Ivanov had on him had been given to Newt when he was in the cemetery.

Although theoretically, if separated and sold individually, Ivanov might be able to sell it at a higher price to other tourists, but in the old man's view, these medals can only become medals in the hands of specific people rather than

decorate.

You know, a few dozen pounds is already considered a considerable income for Ivanov now.

"By the way, Mr. Scamander, if you don't mind, I would like to ask one more question..."

After hesitating for a few seconds, the old man lowered his eyes slightly. He missed Newt's eyes and looked at the collar of his windbreaker. He pursed his lips and asked softly, cautiously, like a mosquito.

"Your friend, how many medals does he plan to acquire?"

"How many medals?" Scamander frowned and looked at Ivanov with some confusion.

"Well...that's it..."

Ivanov's originally straight waist seemed to be bending a little more, and he hesitated to explain with his eyes wandering.

"I still have many comrades, and they also have many various medals. I mean, if your friend has sufficient funds, I can actually help him ask more questions and collect more - of course, also

It doesn’t need to be too much. I know that collecting one medal of the same kind is enough. Just in case, just in case... you have more friends..."

"Funds? That friend of mine..."

Newt was stunned for a moment, and subconsciously imagined a scene in his mind of a certain white-haired little luoli being surrounded by a group of Gringotts goblins slightly shorter than her, surrounded by gold Galleons, and thought about his tone.

He replied firmly.

"Don't worry! Mr. Ivanov, besides, all my money is with her. If it is her, it will be fine."

"she?"

Ivanov glanced at Newt, then shook his head with a dumb smile.

Hey, these lucky but poor old English gentlemen.

In comparison, although he was a little embarrassed, at least he didn't have to face the terrifying female bear when he went home.

Of course, if Natasha hadn't...

Ivanov's eyes were dazed for a moment, and then he quickly shook his head and came back to his senses.

Now is not the time to be sad and reminisce about the past, he has more important things to do later.

Ivanov carefully folded the pile of pounds in his hand and put it in the lining pocket of his clothes. He patted it several times with a serious face, and then breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Scamander. I will wait for you here on time at half past eight tomorrow."

After a slight pause, Ivanov looked around at the yellowish street lights that were gradually brightening, then turned to look at Newt Scamander, who was thinking about something, with an embarrassed smile on his face.

"I'm really sorry, sir. I'm going to have to visit some old friends' homes soon. If you don't need me for anything else, I'll go first."

"Huh? It doesn't matter, I am the same...I also...have something I want to ask about."

Newt Scamander took a deep breath and subconsciously tightened the piece of parchment in his hand that recorded the current address of Ivanovich's home - this was something he asked his friend in the Ministry of Magic to do.

Information that is easy to find.

The two old men, who had their own thoughts, nodded to each other absently and separated under the street lamp.

"Well, Mr. Scamander, see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Ivanov."

…………

At night in St. Petersburg, the air is fresh and cold.

"Hey, old man, what I brought back today is good news! Didn't you expect it?"

Ivanov raised his head, looking past the dilapidated wall and landing on the high-rise of a building in the distance.

It was an apartment building for soldiers who were on duty at a nearby military base.

This five-story building was once filled with soldiers and their families. But since the collapse of the Soviet Union and its formal dissolution, they have been hastily moved to other parts of the vast country to be stationed. In just a few

In the past month, this building has been empty, with only a few people who can't find a home still living here.

At this moment, the entire apartment building was immersed in a kind of aging darkness, with only a few dim lights coming from the windows, as if stubbornly telling the people around that there were still people living here.

Ivanov skillfully found the location where the wall collapsed and stepped over it. Although he only stepped over a hurdle that was less than knee high, he actually found it very strenuous - just like getting through the enemy on the battlefield forty years ago.

Like barbed wire.

He walked in from the front door of the apartment and came to a door on the third floor under the faint moonlight. Just as he was about to knock on the door, a hoarse female voice came out of the room: "Ivanov, is that you?

?”

Ivanov opened the door and walked in.

The only light in the room came from an old kerosene lamp. In the dim light, Ivanov saw the old picture frame hanging on the wall, the dinner plate with cracked edges, the rusty heating rack, and the person standing on the dining table.

The hostess was groping in front of him to pour water for Ivanov.

Her name is Sonia. She is the wife of Ivanov's old comrade-in-arms Yuri Zhirkov.

Ivanov's old comrade-in-arms Yuri participated in the Great Patriotic War and several subsequent wars, large and small.

The cold winter in Stalingrad decades ago failed to kill him, the great disarmament during the Khrushchev period did not knock him down, and even poverty, disability, and illness could not make him succumb.

But just last year, when news of the collapse of the Soviet Union spread across the country on the radio.

Yuri Zhirkov, who was shocked to hear the bad news, fell into a ditch on the roadside and never woke up.

In 1991, this was a hurdle that many people could not overcome.

The history of this country is like being cut in two by someone, like a red sausage.

After the death of Yuri Zhirkov, the life of his wife and children became a problem. Fortunately, Ivanov and several other comrades often helped them. But then life became more and more difficult, and several other comrades also lost their lives one by one.

the source of life.

In the end, Ivanov, who could barely be regarded as a low-level non-commissioned officer, was actually one of the better-off groups - his Natasha could not stay with him until the end of the war. In that era, love was too extravagant.

.

Because of this, Ivanov, who has no family and nothing to worry about, naturally faces much less pressure to survive.

"By the way, where is little Zhirkov? Why didn't you see him?"

Ivanov asked while taking the cup from Sonia.

"He's gone to work." Sonia struggled to hold the table and sat down opposite Ivanov. Her face was haggard, but her voice was raised unconsciously. Parents are always proud when talking about their children:

"He works as a loader at a train station, fifteen kilometers away from here, and needs to be on duty at night... It's not easy to find a stable job now, but fortunately Valkyrie is very strong... just like his father."

Yes, what a great young man, strong and tenacious. Ivanov saw in him the shadow of his comrades when they were young.

Unfortunately, times have changed, and the difficulties of the current situation have made personal efforts futile.

In this country where the economy, politics, and people's livelihood are in complete chaos, even a good boy like Zhirkov, who goes out early and comes home late, and works hard, can only maintain the minimum living expenses for him and his mother in today's world.

food and clothing line.

Ivanov took a sip of the water in the cup with emotion and frowned subconsciously.
To be continued...