Long live this terrible world!

You know how it is. You're working, sitting in Tokyo, dreaming of Okinawa... And then bam! You get transferred to Moscovien. Not that I'm against it, but six months in this hole? And all because of some stupid accounting shortfall. Apparently, Germans don't want to work for Japanese people.



Alright, I flew. On the plane, it felt like a damn carousel, only instead of cheerful music there was a baby crying after a beer overdose. I landed. Moscow airport – well, as usual, gloomy. Maseyuki, the head of the department, met me. An old man, very nice, but with a scary look, like a seasoned samurai. Rain, the sky is gloomy, just like my ex-girlfriend…



But the hotel! It's called "Ukraine"... though now it's "Bavaria" – the German owners don't like incorrect names. It's like living in a palace! Furniture, clean sheets… My little apartment in Tokyo is a dump compared to this. Apparently, the company finances the hotel and a bunch of other establishments in Moscow to attract tourists. Now I understand why they sent me here. My vacation will be "relaxing".



Well, let's see what this Moscow story brings me…