Chapter 415
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 415
Chapter Title: The More I Listen, the Weirder It Sounds.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
That moment.
Vathemensky's eyes widened.
"Factions...? A fight?"
"You probably didn't know much about it as a researcher, but the Revolutionary Army actually has quite a few factions."
The hardliners who valued military might above all.
The moderates who believed a peaceful revolution was possible.
The traditionalists who wanted to restore the old Federation exactly as it was.
The reformers who argued that changes in line with the times were necessary.
And beyond that, there were feminists, second-class citizen advocates, immigration hardliners, environmentalists, and more.
Unlike Vathemensky, who had simply followed Sergei around, most in the Revolutionary Army belonged to one faction—or several, if they were ambitious.
Hearing Rimon's words, Vathemensky wore a bewildered expression.
"What nonsense is that? Factions in the Revolutionary Army, which is structured as a cell organization?"
"That's exactly why it happens in a cell structure."
In a cell organization, even if one member is exposed, the risk to the entire group is low.
But the downside is that since no one knows each other's true identities, unity is hard to achieve.
That's why cell structures are typically maintained in secret societies or religions that share the same beliefs or faith.
But beliefs are vague things.
Even religions with scriptures, canons, and deep histories inevitably have varying interpretations from person to person.
For the Revolutionary Army—a group with a short history and members from all walks of life—sharing completely identical beliefs was practically impossible.
The fact that this revolution was only happening in Moscow was proof that unity hadn't formed properly across regions.
And those differences existed not just in the outer regions, but within the revolutionary government itself.
"They could unite for a single goal until the revolution was launched, but what about now?"
"...Are you saying our Revolutionary Army is starting to fracture precisely because we've achieved the revolution?"
"At the very least, it's clear that each faction is turning red-eyed to grab the best positions they can."
"The revolution hasn't even ended yet!"
"Humans will pick the fruit right in front of them even if there's a snake at their feet. And the ripest fruit of all is obviously the General Secretary position."
"That's...!"
Vathemensky felt at a loss for words.
Of course, the revolutionaries were human too.
It was natural to want rewards commensurate with their hardships.
But with the dictator and the Russian Khanate still standing strong, and the Soviet Federation in chaos, infighting for power?
It was hard to believe.
'...No, maybe that's exactly why.'
Heroes are born in times of chaos.
If external threats vanished and the internals stabilized like this?
Sergei's position as General Secretary would become even more unassailable, and no one would dare challenge it.
In that sense, now—while the revolutionary government was still shaky—was the perfect opportunity.
'The Special Operations Unit was directly under the Teacher.'
Sergei had been a revolutionary who led with force from the start.
His main faction was naturally the hardliners.
But if it came out that party members from the Special Operations Unit—the core of the hardliners—had committed crimes?
"If this gets out, every faction will swarm in to tear at the Teacher."
"..."
"Tell me, Teacher. Was pursuing their crimes really just for political reasons?"
He asked in a trembling voice, as if pleading for denial.
Gazing steadily at Vathemensky for a moment.
Sergei closed his eyes.
"I won't deny that political factors played a role in my decision."
"...!"
"But I swear on my convictions: the biggest reason I'm burying this is because it's necessary for the greater good."
"You mean protecting your General Secretary seat is the greater good?"
"Yes."
A firm declaration without hesitation.
Followed by a solemn counterquestion.
"If I step down, then what? Do you think the chaos will settle if someone else becomes General Secretary?"
"...It would only make the factional struggles even fiercer."
"Right now, we need to stay united against the dictator. If we fracture over something like this, what happens to the Soviet Federation?"
"..."
Vathemensky fell silent.
The revolutionary government was creaking along somehow thanks to an exceptional leader named Sergei.
The fact that he himself had been oblivious to the factions was because Sergei had fairly bound them all together.
But if even Sergei were gone, and the factional fights accelerated?
The Soviet Federation might collapse before the war even began.
'The Teacher is right, for sure. But...'
As a party member of the revolutionary government.
He could understand Sergei.
They couldn't jeopardize the Soviet Federation—revived after long years—for the sake of a few criminals.
But the heart of the young man who had devoted himself to the Revolutionary Army refused to accept that understanding.
A cool head and a hot heart.
As if sensing Vathemensky's anguish between the two.
Sergei added one more thing.
"Let me say this upfront: once the war ends and the Soviet Federation regains stability, I plan to step down from the General Secretary position immediately."
"...Do you mean that?"
"Of course."
He said they could even announce it publicly if he didn't believe him.
Seeing Sergei speak so definitively, Vathemensky felt relieved.
The Sergei from their revolutionary days, who had always taken the most dangerous tasks for the greater good, wouldn't lie for power.
On the other hand, Rimon tilted his head.
And casually asked.
"What if it doesn't end?"
"What did you say?"
"If you can't topple Russia in 10 or 20 years? And even after double that time, the Federation still hasn't stabilized—what then?"
"The war will end soon. The Federation will stabilize quickly too."
"I'm asking about the 'what if' scenario."
"..."
Few wanted prolonged wars, but truces or ceasefires could drag on for decades.
Given the Soviet Federation's nature—born from revolution—they'd have to stay in a wartime state unless they destroyed Russia.
Above all, governing a nation was a century-long endeavor.
Even focusing solely on domestic affairs for 100 years, new issues would constantly arise.
That was why.
Rimon gave a cold smile as Sergei fell silent at his question, unable to answer readily.
"Do you know why I asked that?"
"..."
"From my experience, kings who say that stuff end up glued to their thrones until they croak."
"Comparing the Teacher to those greedy kings is too rude!"
"Eh. If believing you're the only one who can lead the country counts as greed, then revolutionaries aren't exceptions either."
"That's because there's no one to replace the Teacher."
"Shouldn't you scout for a successor before saying that?"
"No need to scout. At least among the revolutionaries, there's no leader finer than the Teacher..."
"What about outside the revolutionaries?"
"...What?"
"Can you be sure there are no such talents among the non-revolutionary citizens? Not just Moscow, but across all of Russia."
Vathemensky was speechless.
The revolutionaries made up less than 1% of the population.
Even in this city of tens of millions, they numbered only a few tens of thousands.
In other words, the talent pool inside and outside the revolutionaries differed by hundreds of times at minimum.
This was even more true given the revolutionaries' disproportionately high ratio of unskilled laborers over properly educated citizens.
Not to mention expanding the scope to all of Russia?
Even Vathemensky, who believed Sergei was the finest leader, couldn't flatly declare no one more capable existed.
Of course, he had his counterargument.
"No matter how talented, the revolutionaries would never accept an outsider as General Secretary."
With factional fights brewing even under Sergei, they'd never tolerate someone who hadn't contributed to the revolution taking the seat.
Fierce opposition was a given; in the worst case, they might even resort to armed protests.
Vathemensky argued back.
Rimon tilted his head.
"Why does getting the revolutionaries' approval have to be a prerequisite?"
"...Pardon?"
"No, the more I listen, the weirder it sounds."
As if he'd spotted a tax collector from a neighboring country demanding payment just for showing up.
Scratching his chin while giving Vathemensky and Sergei odd looks.
"The Soviet Federation is a nation founded on ideals of freedom and equality, right? That's what the revolution was for."
"Of course."
"Then naturally, every citizen should have the freedom to become General Secretary. Why do they need permission from the revolutionaries instead of the people?"
"...!"
That moment.
Vathemensky froze.
Of course, Rimon's points were always sharp, leaving him flustered each time.
But this one was on another level.
Like a finely honed blade.
It didn't just poke at vulnerabilities—it delved deep into the contradictions hidden within the revolutionaries, freezing even his fervent heart.
"...You're right. Every citizen of the Soviet Federation does have the qualification to lead the nation."
Perhaps due to his age.
Or because it was something he already knew.
Unlike Vathemensky, Sergei calmly acknowledged Rimon's point.
However, it didn't mean full acceptance.
"But that's just idealism."
"I know. It's not realistic."
Rimon readily accepted Sergei's rebuttal.
In any era.
In any nation.
What mattered most to become a leader wasn't strength, talent, character, or bloodline—but the existence of a support base.
No followers meant no leading, no matter the talent.
Conversely, a solid support base could make even the incompetent a tyrant.
The claim that only Sergei could be General Secretary now was entirely rational in that regard.
Agreeing with that.
Rimon suddenly twisted his lips.
"But revolutionary sir. Do you know what they call it when one person—or a small clique—monopolizes the power to move a nation?"
"...?"
"Usually, it's called dictatorship."
Sergei's face hardened.
Vathemensky's eyes widened.
Seeing the two of them, Rimon chuckled.
"Hey, don't get the wrong idea. I'm not denying your regime outright."
"You're... not denying it?"
"Yeah. This guy might topple Russia in a few years, build a fine nation, and step down."
Anything could happen in the world.
So even if the odds were low, he wouldn't deny the possibility of Sergei realizing his ideals.
Saying it so simply it made all his prior grilling seem pointless.
Rimon quietly added.
"But I have no intention of helping your regime either."
"..."
"Whether it's truly for this country's good or not, I'm not interested in playing attack dog to protect your power."
"..."
"So do whatever you want. I'll do whatever I want."
Whether covering up his party members' crimes to protect the nation.
Or branding him a criminal.
Do as they pleased.
With a lazy declaration, Rimon turned.
And as he strode out of the office, he glanced back at Sergei as if it just occurred to him, flashing a cold smile.
"Good luck, politician."
With those final words, Rimon's empty spot was all that remained.
All Sergei and Vathemensky could do was sit in heavy silence.