“Oh, hell… I am not going home today, aren’t I?”. Acquiring a visa is one hell of a chore to complete. You lack this and that and a picture of this size and some random document is missing somehow; everything will feel like they are against you. But, if you have a hand in the pot, you can stir it to your liking and season some to your preference. And, luckily, Anastasia just happens to be one of the people who has a firm grasp over the Russian military – the country’s greatest asset. The Russian delegation building is one very modest building, popping out from the exquisite but indifferent 5-story baroques of the central. Inside is no different. Unlike the mundane and repetitive lifestyle of the capital, there are people there, scrambling to get their work done. There are several desk-posts situated along the walls of the building, each with their own purpose. Travel consultancy, current exchange, visa application and even photographers and notary, all present inside that one building. But, as it is all situated inside that one building, even though they are planned along 3 floors, a lot of conjunction and lines form, prolonging the stay there…

“Hello, miss, how may I help you?”, asks the secretary. San’s first stop was the delegate himself – Sergei Zaitsev. Putting on her smile, “Hello~ I am here to meet with Sergei Zaitsev. He should have an appointment at about 12:12”, says San. Dialing up the table phone, she talks to the man behind the big desk. Holding, “Your name was…?”, she asks. “Anastasia Gvozdikaya”, answers San… Inside the office, she and the delegate share a sugar lump. Drinking her cup of tea, “So, you know me as the daughter of Beta, yes? Well, I am here to ask for a favor; I need two uninterrupted and unwired plans to Petrograd, one for me and one for my friend… Look, you just need to pass my and his application without batting an eye. These Germans are one hell of a people. So, I advise you to look over their suggestions and do your part in this envoy”, says San. Putting his cup down on the dish, “I see… So, you are telling me to let a foreigner into the motherland? On the bases of you being a citizen, that rules out the invitation requirement but he is still a foreigner. Even so, I need to authenticate his papers and he needs to pass this country’s regulations and examinations. Look, there is a lot of risk to your request, miss. There is not just me who determines the pass of travel. So, I would have to refuse”, says Sergei…

“So, how did the meeting go, miss Gvozdikaya?”, asks the secretary. Maintaining her smile, “Good”, she answers. “Say, does he have these kinds of meeting all the time?”, asks San as she was about to leave. “No, not at all. I think this was his first ever meeting with an individual”, answers the receptionist.

The phone rings inside Leo’s condo. The volume resonating off of the four walls of the living room, jolting Johann off of the armchair. Looking at the clock, “It is only 12:30… Who calls a home phone at this hour?”, mutters Johann and walks to the shoe drawer… “Oye, Jo, get yourself over here at the Russian delegate. And, do not forget your paperwork”, says San and promptly hangs up… Quickly putting on his jacket and grabbing the keys, Johann heads out. Thinking for a moment, “Would it be stupid to hide these somewhere rather than keep it on me? After all, someone else might need to enter this apartment like Yuki or Leo himself… Ah, who am I to know? If I were him, I would have one spare key on me at all times. And Yuki has something up her sleeves that she could get in quite easily. That was indeed stupid” and locks the door.

Outside the consulate building, Johann stands. About a pillar posted to hold the roof extension, “Hey, Johann! Took you long enough. Anyways, got your citizenship permit, personal identification papers, health checkup of the last 2 months and your business permit and proof, yes? Now, listen to me very carefully; Do not lie and do not mention my name. If you do, then my pass would not come out. I have told the delegate that your request would soon arrive so do not sweat it, okay? I will wait for you here and, once this is done, let us meet up with Leo and ask for Paul to unwire the travels”, tells San, checking her notes.

Johann enters the building; a sudden flush of past memories flood and overwhelm him. His moments with his father, the sudden influx of unavailability and the ridicule of foreigners by the Germans, all rush in his mind… “How may I help you?”, asks the receptionist at the front desk. Shivering in distress but hidden by his clothes, “Uh, yes, I am here to request an admission for travels to Petrograd. Where should I start?”, says Johann with a bit of fluctuation in his voice. Clicking things on her screen, “And, may I ask for your name and purpose of travel, please?”, says the receptionist. Clearing his voice for the second time, “It is Johann von Alstrom and I am here to request a pardon for the annual Artisans’ pilgrimage”, he says, as that part of the hall suddenly becomes silent. The receptionist seems to be in quite a shock as well. Couple moments later, “By Artisans’ Pilgrimage, you mean to go to Russia for learning their craft techniques? Oh, wow… Uh, start from the 4th booth, then go to the 9th, then the 5th booth on the second floor and then meet with the delegate. I will notify him”, says the receptionist.

At the 4th booth, titled “Visa admission”, Johann stands in a line of about 5 people. About every 4 minutes, a person gets added to the line and the person in the chair finishes. Sitting behind the desk, “How may I help you, sir?”, says the teller. Clearing his voice, “Uh, I am here to ask for the annual Artisans’ Pilgrimage pardon”, says Johann and opens his suitcase. The same reaction occurs; the line and the tables to the sides all become silent for a moment. “May I see your papers, please”, says the teller, indifferent in his voice. A stack of paper, about 70 of them, are placed on the desk. The teller quickly reads through them all and types the specifications into the program. Placing 3 papers stapled at the corner, “Please read through these and sign here and here”, says the teller. The papers read, “Travel specifications” …

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Before placing the paper into the scanner, “Surname: Alstrom; Name; Johann; Place of Origin: Oslo, Sweden; Place of Practice: Danzig, Germany; Spouse: None; Associates Number: 3; Associates Name(s): William Mandalmerge, Cassandra Johannes, Li Hue; Reason(s) of Travel: To learn and accompany the practice of making 30 cakes original to the Russian East and relearn the forgotten practice of Set-Place materialization; Expected duration of stay: 1 year… these are all?”, asks the teller. “Yes”, says Johann as the papers get scanned along with his foreign passport and ID card. “Now, if you please, go to the 9th booth. You will be questioned for further complications”, tells the teller…

At the 9th booth: “Oh~ You are Johann, yes, from the Danzig Artisans’ Association?” “Yes”, “Let us see… You have been a German citizen since 1857, you moved from Oslo to Danzig then to Hanover, yes?” “Yes”, “You have a bakery on the 21 Baker’s Street, yes?” “Yes”, “Who is running the shop now?” “My friend Felix Fyodorovski”, “Do you have a bank account with the sufficient deposit?” “Yes, here is the notary proof”, “Place your hand palm down on the device, please…Do you have an invitation from a citizen of the motherland?” “Yes, here is the letter stamped by the delegate”, “Do you have any intention of deserting Germany?” “Yes” “That was a trick question, you did not have to answer that”, “Have you contracted any infectious disease?” “No, here is the health checkup proofs”, “Are you an associate of any terrorists?” “…No”, “That was an awfully long pause” “Just thought of my apprentice. He does not mean any harm, let alone an act of terrorism”, “Are you a part of the Moonflower?” “No”, “And that is all. Your background is clean your intentions are clear. Please go to the 2nd floor, 5th booth. There, you will be questioned about your travel plans. Good luck!”

At the 2nd floor, 5th booth, not a single person is lining up to the desk. Approaching the desk and sitting on the chair, “How is this desk so void of a line?”, asks Johann from the receptionist. Exhibiting a smile similar to San, “This desk is privileged for Artisans only, Mr. Alstrom. Let us now determine your travel routes”, says the receptionist… Dialing up San, “Aye, mate, what was the route again?”, asks Johann. “We would go to Danzig and Konigsberg. From there, Petrograd, Moscow and Novgorod. Then… Yekaterinburg, Tyumen, Omsk, Novosibirsk, Krasnoyarsk and Irkutsk. The route so far is this. I plan to circle the whole of Russia in this session. And maybe the whole world, if the government allows it”, tells Johann. “Might I suggest you to go to Yakutsk and Khabarovsk? From there, you could catch a ferry to Sakhalin and cross into Japan. There is even a delegate for you to negotiate. Japan still upholds the Artisans’ Creed, yes? And then, you can go to mainland China from the Japanese held territory so that you could circle the east part of Asia. From there, you could figure out everything else”, says the receptionist. “Heard that, San?”, says Johann on the phone. “Well then, I will report your travel to Khabarovsk in the papers, Mr. Alstrom. Now, you should meet with the delegate himself and notify your intentions. He should be able to convey your request to the German bureaucracy”, says the receptionist.

At the 3rd floor, through the door to the side, “Hello sir, how may I help you?”, asks the secretary. Clearing his voice, “Yes, hello, I am here to meet with the delegate. The 5th booth of the 2nd floor sent me here”, says Johann. Pausing for a moment, “You are an Artisan who want to travel to Russia, yes?”, dialing up the table phone, “Your name is…”, asks the secretary. “It is Johann von Alstrom, miss”, he says, still standing in front of the desk… Inside the office, “By any chance, are you an associate of the daughter of Beta?”, asks the delegate from Johann, who has just come in. Pausing for a moment, “If you mean San, I am traveling with her, along with her spouse and my apprentice. I have not met a person dubbed the daughter of Beta. I am Johann, a registered artisan from the city of Danzig. I adorn the Gilded Branch, by which, it is sanctioned by the Elden law to allow an annual pardon of travel to any countries. But, as the current law require your decree of admission, I request your permission of travel to the Tsardom of Russia”, says Johann, seating himself in the armchair about the table. Making some tea, “It is odd for me to have two guests on the same day, Mr. Johann. Let alone after the first one mentioning her friend would come to ask for a request. Well, it was my obligation to allow such small request but who knows who she meant by her friend, no?”, says the delegate.

“I am Sergei Zaitsev, the diplomat representing the Tsardom of Russia, as you already know, and it is an honor to talk with an Artisan”, he adds, sitting on the other side of the table. “Have you stated your travel purposes?” “Yes”, “Have you got your background checked?” “Yes”, “Have you reported your route?” “Yes”, “Then congratulations, Mr. Johann. You have now been permitted to an Artisans’ Visa to travel freely across Russia”. Finishing his cup, “I also have one request: Could you notify the German bureaucracy for my travels? It is quite a hassle for me, an immigrant, to ask for a permit for traveling across an entire continent. But, with your recommendation, I would be able to go freely, no? After all, it is the Elden law that we abide by”, says Johann…

“Well then, the visa is set, a commission for my travel across Asia proper has been made… Now what?”, says Johann seated in a table inside a diner. Pinching a pop, “First, eat. Say, do you have Leo’s number or something?”, says San. Looking through the menu, “This looks nice… Yeah, no, Leo has his and Paul’s phone number on his home phone. So, we need to go back there and call them”, calls the waiter, “I would like to have No.8 with a side of coleslaw and some lemonade. And, do not add sugar to the drink, please”, says Johann. “And what would you like to have, miss?”, asks the waiter. “It is okay, thank you. I am here to feed this guy, not myself”, says San as she writes in her notebook about.