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Anya replied to Roy with a hint of exasperation.
"This guy's still going on about you being an American spy. He says your Olympic champion title is just a cover to infiltrate us."
Roy was speechless. The Cold War ended ages ago—why was this guy stuck in the past? Besides, they were in Antarctica, not Russia. What would a spy even do here?
"I kinda want to punch him again," Roy muttered.
Anya shrugged. "I bet a lot of people here feel the same."
It was clear from Mikhail's arrogant attitude that he wasn't exactly Mr. Popular at the base.
Thankfully, the base's leader, Grigoryev, was a reasonable guy and ignored Mikhail's nonsense.
"Mr. Black, do you have any evidence?" Grigoryev asked.
"You can check for yourself. Smell the body—does it have a sulfur-like odor?"
Grigoryev motioned for someone to check the corpse. Sure enough, the report came back: it reeked of sulfur.
Mikhail, hearing the translation, started jabbering again. Anya frowned as she listened.
"What's he saying now?" Roy asked.
"He says sulfur doesn't prove it's a demon. Could just be a sulfur deposit."
That was a stretch. If there was a sulfur deposit, Grigoryev's reaction wouldn't be so calm. And what kind of environment would leave such a strong sulfur smell on a body?
Still, Grigoryev wasn't fully convinced by Roy. As an American, Roy naturally faced skepticism from the Russians.
"Mr. Black, can you explain why sulfur points to demons?"
"I've dealt with plenty of demon-related incidents. I know them inside and out."
How could he not? Roy had gotten very familiar with demons—more than just professionally.
But Grigoryev wasn't buying it. "You're a boxer. How would you have experience with demons?"
Clearly, Grigoryev knew about supernatural forces, so he didn't outright deny demons. He just questioned Roy's credentials.
Roy sighed. Time to come clean.
"Actually, besides being a boxer, I'm a supernatural being. Can I borrow a gun? Unloaded is fine."
Grigoryev had a soldier hand Roy an unloaded pistol. Roy effortlessly twisted it into a pretzel.
That convinced everyone.
"Good God! No wonder you KO'd everyone in the ring!" Anya exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. She now understood why Roy's performance last night was so… impressive.
Even in other arenas, Roy could dominate, no matter the odds.
Grigoryev thought for a moment before issuing orders in Russian.
Mikhail seemed to object, but Grigoryev shut him down hard this time. As second-in-command, Mikhail had no choice but to obey, storming off after muttering a threat.
Anya translated: "He said he's reporting this to his superiors."
She added with a smirk, "I bet his 'superiors' are just his dad."
Roy couldn't help but laugh at the jab.
Grigoryev switched to English. "Mr. Black, let's talk in my office."
This wasn't the barren office Roy had seen yesterday. This one had a desk, a computer, and a heater.
Anya joined them, and the three sat down. Grigoryev spoke first.
"Mr. Black, can I trust you?"
"Of course, Mr. Grigoryev. I'm definitely not a spy."
Grigoryev was mostly convinced. If Roy were a spy, he wouldn't have shown off his strength like that.
"Alright. I hope you'll keep what I'm about to say confidential."
Anya froze, staring at Grigoryev in disbelief. "You're sharing classified information?"
Grigoryev gave a bitter smile. "It's hardly classified anymore. The costs are too high, and after six months of digging up nothing, they're planning to shut this station down."
Roy got the picture. Around 2000, Russia's economy was rough. They probably didn't care much about Antarctic outposts.
Anya stayed quiet, sensing the gravity of the situation.
Grigoryev revealed the base's true purpose.
About six months ago, a Soviet-era station nearby discovered a meteorite crash site. Russia quickly assembled a team to study it.
But the meteorite had plunged deep into the ice, impossible to retrieve directly.
So, Grigoryev decided to build a drilling rig to extract it.
The drill went deeper and deeper, but the meteorite was nowhere to be found, like it had vanished.
"How deep did you drill?" Roy asked.
"About 6,000 meters."
(In the original movie, they drilled 6,000 meters during the Soviet era. In reality, the Soviets dug a 12,000-meter borehole in the 1970s, but it was narrow, like an oil well.)
Six thousand meters in six months?
Roy wondered if the Russians had some secret tech, but that wasn't the point.
"Did you find something unusual?"
"Yes. At around 6,000 meters, we hit a red zone filled with strange fungi. That's why I brought Anya here—to study it."
Grigoryev glanced at Anya.
As the head honcho, he clearly knew more than Mikhail, the spoiled second-in-command.
Anya caught on fast. "Grigoryev, the fungal filaments on that body—are they from those strange fungi?"
Grigoryev looked troubled. "I'm no expert, so I can't say for sure. After we hit that zone, a lot of workers got spooked, thinking we'd drilled into hell. Some started acting strange. I immediately sealed off the 6,000-meter level and contacted Russia to send you here…"
Roy got the gist, but one question remained.
"Mr. Grigoryev, if you sealed off the 6,000-meter level, why did this morning's incident happen?"
Grigoryev sighed deeply. "I underestimated human nature. My sudden lockdown order caused panic at the 3,000-meter level. Some ignored my orders, went down to 6,000 meters, and brought the fungi back."
Human nature never holds up under pressure. Betting on it usually ends in failure.
"From my experience, you didn't just find fungi—you drilled into a hell portal."
Anya and Grigoryev both looked puzzled. "A hell portal?"
Roy nodded. "Earth occasionally develops connections to other worlds. I suspect you opened a portal to hell, and the demons inside found it."
Anya's eyes widened, but Grigoryev looked thoughtful.
At his level, he'd likely heard rumors.
"I've seen something like this before! During the Soviet era, when I was stationed in Siberia, we found a portal in a volcano crater. Demon-like creatures came through. It took a lot of brave soldiers to seal it!"
No wonder Grigoryev believed Roy—he'd seen it himself.
With Grigoryev's firsthand account, Anya had to believe it too.
"What do we do? Isn't it dangerous down there?"
"Hell portals can be sealed. It's not a huge issue."
Even if they couldn't, Roy could use the magic in Solomon's Key to seal it. That artifact was made for dealing with demons.
Grigoryev adjusted his glasses, looking guilty. "The bigger problem is that dozens of people are still stuck 3,000 meters down. I don't know their status, and the phones aren't working."
Since Grigoryev issued the lockdown, he was worried about what might be happening below.
"Mr. Grigoryev, if you trust me, I can go down and check."
Grigoryev looked at Roy in surprise. "Mr. Black, are you serious?"
"Dead serious."
Grigoryev grabbed Roy's hand, emotional. "Mr. Black, you're a true internationalist warrior!"
Roy hadn't expected such high praise in his lifetime. But given Grigoryev's Soviet-era background, it kinda made sense.
"Roy, I'm coming too!" Anya suddenly declared.
Roy frowned at her. "Anya, this isn't a game. I might not be able to protect you down there."
"I'm a microbiologist. I can figure out what's going on with those fungi!"
She had a point, but Roy thought she could go later.
"No need. I'll check if it's safe first, then call you down."
Grigoryev interjected. "Mr. Black, you may be a strong fighter, but you're no expert in this field. Anya is. And Russia isn't so weak that we'd let you go alone. Our soldiers will join you."
With Grigoryev insisting, Roy relented.
The three left the office to prepare for the descent.
Seven heavily armed soldiers would join Roy and Anya, along with an admin who'd been down before to guide them.
When they saw the guide, Roy and Anya were dumbfounded.
"Why's it you?" Roy asked.
"Why not me?" came the reply.
Both spoke in Russian, but the meaning was clear.
Mikhail smirked smugly at Roy and Anya.
Grigoryev explained无奈ly, "Many areas underground require clearance to access. Only three people have full clearance. The third is down there, and I can't reach him."
Grigoryev had to manage the surface. Leaving Mikhail up top while he went down could spell trouble.
Roy glanced at Mikhail. "This guy won't cause problems, will he?"
"I've warned him. If he does well, I'll let him leave early."
Antarctica was a desolate place. No spoiled brat like Mikhail wanted to stay.
He was clearly eager to leave but hadn't served long enough. With Grigoryev's offer, he'd cooperate, even with Roy.
"Fine. Let's hope he doesn't hold us back."
The ten suited up in bulky, old-school hazmat suits, looking like astronauts.
Anya adapted surprisingly well. Her physique was stronger than most women's, just not athlete-level.
Mikhail, meanwhile, grumbled nonstop. Anya translated: he was complaining about the heavy, outdated suits compared to newer models.
Finding old suits in Antarctica was lucky enough. This was a forgotten outpost.
Most of the base's equipment was Soviet-era relics, thanks to Grigoryev's connections.
(In the original movie, it's wild that no one wore hazmat suits during a bio-crisis.)
Once ready, the ten stepped into the elevator.
The two corpses by the entrance had been cleared. They strapped into seats with safety belts.
The elevator had to descend 3,000 meters. Standard elevators move at 3 meters per second—180 meters a minute.
That'd take nearly 20 minutes to reach 3,000 meters, over 30 for 6,000. Way too slow.
So, this elevator was fast—like a drop tower ride. Safety belts were a must, or they'd smash into the ceiling on stopping.
Mikhail stood at the control panel, entering the code. He got an error on his first try, with two attempts left.
"Strange, I'm sure that was the code," he muttered.
Anya, finding her picture is tough.
The Kola Superdeep Borehole originally referred to a famous Soviet drilling experiment. The movie uses it too. I've shifted the setting to 2000 and moved it to Antarctica.