Chapter 423
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 423
Chapter Title: Now Tell Me.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
When they rose up in Ishim.
The New Revolutionary Army's forces were small.
But that was only at the beginning.
As people rose up across the Federation and joined them day after day, the New Revolutionary Army's strength swelled rapidly.
As a result, their headquarters had to be relocated.
With so many troops gathered, they could no longer station themselves in a small city with a population of less than 20,000.
The new headquarters was Yaroslavl.
It was a major city close to Moscow, the first one the Federation forces had captured.
Considering the modern army's speed—able to cover hundreds of kilometers in a day by vehicle—it was like holding a knife to the revolutionary government's throat.
Of course, the reverse was also true: if the revolutionary government launched an offensive, the New Revolutionary Army would be in danger.
That was why the New Revolutionary Army soldiers guarding Yaroslavl were on high alert, eyes blazing as they watched their surroundings.
But they didn't know.
Their leader, who should have been the most wary of the Federation forces, had cast aside all caution and was sipping vodka.
"Regular booze is just a bit bland, huh."
"If you want something with a kick, why not add a few drops of Green Dragon Clan poison?"
"Huh? How'd you know I usually drink it like that?"
"...You really do?"
"Yeah. Like you know, Oppa, Green Dragon Clan poison has quite the thrill to it, right? And depending on the type, it changes the flavor of the booze. It's great."
Good liquor with toppings is the truth.
Rimon clicked his tongue as he watched Ekaterina speak so cheerfully.
No matter how resistant to poison the Seven Dragon Society's princess was, using Green Dragon Clan venom as a condiment wasn't something a sane person would do.
"We really need to take Moscow soon. They've got all my favorite booze and toppings there."
"You're saying you're starting a war just to drink some tasty liquor?"
"Why not? Isn't that reason enough?"
As if nothing more was needed.
She tilted her head for a moment.
Then Ekaterina flashed a mischievous smile.
"Oh, is this the answer you wanted? 'To topple the corrupt revolutionary government as soon as possible and bring peace and stability to all'?"
"...Cut it out. Just imagining it makes me nauseous."
"Too bad. If you wanted, I could really say it like that."
She giggled.
Then Ekaterina downed her glass in one go.
She refilled the empty glass with vodka and muttered as she sipped.
"Anyway, the revolutionary government's being way too soft. The New Revolutionary Army's come this far, and they're still dithering without a decision."
"Not everyone can make light decisions when billions of lives and the future are on the line."
"Really? Seemed easy to me."
"That's why you're a dictator, you crazy princess."
"What's wrong with being a dictator?"
Ekaterina brazenly brushed off Rimon's jab.
Then she wore a meaningful smile.
"You don't care if I'm a dictator or a republican anyway, do you, Oppa?"
"..."
"That's why you just watched me start the New Revolutionary Army, right? Because the war I'm waging doesn't cross your line."
Like she'd hit the nail on the head.
Rimon didn't bother arguing with her triumphant expression.
He just stared at her quietly, then snatched her glass and took a sip.
"Hey! That's mine!"
"What, does it pain you?"
"Of course it does! Supplies are so short these days—getting even one bottle of vodka is a hassle!"
Whoosh.
In that instant, Ekaterina's hand blurred.
Rimon reacted reflexively to the lightning-fast grab.
But her jade-like fingers, glowing faintly with Turtle Gate Mudra Style, seized the momentary pause from the light and reclaimed the glass.
"Risking your life over one drink."
"I have to. The Silver Dragon Princess can't let someone steal from her—or worse, have hers stolen. I'd be a laughingstock."
Her use of up to the Seventy-Two Martial Styles just to retrieve a glass was so absurd.
Ekaterina flashed a victor's smile at Rimon's pitiful look and savored the remaining liquor.
Her eyes widened.
"Huh? It's tasty."
"Weren't you just saying it was meh?"
"But now it's delicious! Super delicious! I've never had booze this good!"
Unable to hold back.
Ekaterina grabbed the vodka bottle outright and chugged straight from it.
Then tilted her head.
"This isn't tasty?"
"...Like before. With all your crazy antics, has your tongue gone numb too?"
"Doesn't seem like it..."
As Rimon grudgingly suggested she get checked by Maia.
She pondered why that sip from before—and the apricot he'd fed her—tasted insanely good.
Suddenly, realization dawned.
Ekaterina turned her head.
She glanced between the empty glass and Rimon, then thrust the vodka bottle at him.
"Hey, Oppa. Could you blow on the bottle for a sec?"
"..."
As Rimon debated bonking her on the head with the bottle, her communicator buzzed.
[Captain, I have a report.]
"What is it?"
[A man who says he knows you came by... He mentioned 'Batshevsky Brothers' and figured you'd know.]
Wrinkle-filled eyes.
Clothes soaked with tears.
And a pallid complexion.
Ekaterina blinked at the man who looked like he could be mistaken for an undead at a graveside.
Then she tilted her head.
"Batshevsky Brothers?"
"Yes, that's me."
"You've lost a lot of weight."
"...Thanks to someone, I've been through hell."
"Then you should thank whoever gave you that free diet. I was thinking you Batshevsky Brothers had a bit too much flab anyway."
"Urgh..."
Batshevsky groaned like boiling magma after his snide remark backfired.
But personal grudges couldn't come before official business.
He composed himself.
"Elshar Sister, the reason I came to see you is..."
"You've decided to assassinate the General Secretary? Good, I'll prepare the deadliest poison."
"What nonsense is that?!"
"Huh? Weren't you going to sell out the revolutionaries for a high post in the New Revolutionary Army?"
"Don't spout such rubbish! I'm no filthy traitor!"
Batshevsky bristled at Ekaterina's words.
For a fervent revolutionary like him, the mere suspicion was the ultimate insult.
But the next moment.
He froze.
"Oh, sorry. Lots of people coming for similar reasons lately—I mixed it up."
"Similar... reasons?"
"What, you didn't think you were the first high-ranking revolutionary to show up?"
"..."
Then it hit Batshevsky.
Why Ekaterina and the other New Revolutionary Army soldiers hadn't been surprised by his sudden arrival.
And why Sergei had said there was no need for secrecy—just approach them openly.
'...Is that why Teacher entrusted this to me?'
Comrades who'd once trusted each other with their lives before the revolution.
Now he had to scrutinize them as potential traitors. He sighed briefly.
Then spoke gravely.
"Teacher sent me to see you, Elshar Sister."
"Hm... So you're the General Secretary's envoy?"
"Something like that."
Ekaterina looked intrigued.
"Unexpected. No reaction from Moscow till now—I thought he'd go down fighting to the end."
"Teacher said: Even if the revolutionary government falls, the revolution must continue."
"Noble words."
Revolutionary government or New Revolutionary Army.
They were all Federation comrades in the end.
Whoever won, the fight would cause massive losses, letting Russiacan Federation crush the Soviet Federation without a trace.
For the Federation's sake, he'd even offer his own head—that was Sergei's will.
Ekaterina nodded, impressed by Batshevsky's account.
Then asked.
"So, the surrender terms?"
"He wants to discuss details with you in person, Elshar Sister."
"Not planning to assassinate me?"
"Teacher isn't like that!"
"But offering his neck for the Federation could mean asking me to die too, right?"
Batshevsky bit his lip.
Reluctantly, he spoke.
"...Knowing suspicions might arise, he said he'd allow the New Revolutionary Army into Moscow beforehand."
"Huh. Guess no assassination plot then."
Ekaterina looked disappointed.
Unopposed entry into Moscow meant victory for the New Revolutionary Army, negotiations or not.
"But there's a condition."
"What?"
"Rino Brother must be our hostage."
"...Worried my little brother ignores the talks and takes Moscow anyway, so you'll take my head?"
"Think of it as insurance for contingencies."
As Rimon, arms crossed and listening, furrowed his brow.
Ekaterina nodded.
"Fine, I'll accept."
"Who said you could agree?"
"Why? As long as the talks go well, it's fine, right?"
"That sounds like you're planning to cause trouble. Am I imagining it?"
"Nah. You know I like you too much to let you get hurt."
"..."
She knew no revolutionary antics could harm him.
Yet she spoke like a caring little sister. Rimon could only scowl in disgust.
After some twists and turns.
Rimon agreed to be the hostage.
He generally avoided meddling in revolutionary affairs, and didn't want unnecessary war because of him.
Two days later.
The Federation forces disarmed.
Amid citizens' cheers, the New Revolutionary Army entered Moscow.
In a conference hall at the Kremlin Palace center, talks began between the two revolutionary leaders to decide the Soviet Federation's future.
Or so it seemed.
Click.
"...General Secretary, what does this mean?"
For sincere talks, they'd cleared everyone else.
The moment they were alone, Ekaterina blinked at the bearish man drawing a hidden pistol on her.
"What does it mean...? Do you really not know why, Elshar Sister?"
But Sergei didn't relax at her innocent look.
His face stiffer than ever, he continued.
"No, 'sister' doesn't suit you."
A voice frozen cold.
Eyes burning quietly.
A hand gripping the gun tight.
Revealing chilling killing intent that would shock those who knew his usual calm.
The man who'd dreamed of revolution his whole life, fighting dictatorship, spoke.
"Isn't that right, Great Khan of Russiacan?"
That moment.
Silence descended.
A space like time had stopped.
At the end of breathlessly still quiet.
The girl's lips, who'd watched Sergei impassively, curved like a crescent moon.
"You caught on quick."
Such clear affirmation.
And that wicked smile revealing her identity better than words. Sergei spoke lowly.
"I wasn't certain. Just a hunch."
"Oh, leading question? You got me."
Ekaterina just giggled.
Not particularly flustered.
Her disguise was mere play from the start.
If she'd truly hidden, she wouldn't have done such a sloppy act.
She almost wished it'd been noticed sooner—things would've been more fun.
Regretting the late reveal now that it was over, she asked with interest.
"So? Gonna kill me now?"
Smiling at the gun aimed at her.
No tension, not even hostility from Ekaterina. Sergei stared heavily for a long time.
Then closed his eyes.
Thud.
"What? Giving up the assassination?"
"I know this puny gun can't kill you."
For some reason.
Ekaterina openly disappointed at the pistol on the table.
Facing her, Sergei continued lowly.
"No—even if all our Federation forces attacked, killing you would be hard."
Sniper shots with special rounds.
Extreme poisons from monsters.
High-level player assassins.
Even suicide bombings.
He knew her power well from all attempts. Sergei sighed shortly.
Exposing her now would just look like desperate thrashing.
In the New Revolutionary Army or revolutionary government.
Few would believe it readily.
Seeing his resigned face, knowing that, Ekaterina tilted her head.
"You knew that—why call me?"
"One last question."
"What? Password to my secret stash of naughty videos?"
What could puzzle this lifelong revolutionary so much that, facing the dictator he hated, he asked instead of shooting?
To her curious look, Sergei spoke lowly.
"Why is the Sword Duke with you?"
"Hm... Sharp to notice that."
He'd spotted Rimon's identity first, leading to suspicion of sibling Ekaterina.
Sergei didn't explain.
Just watched her silently.
Ekaterina, looking bored, tilted her chair back and propped her feet on the table.
"I don't mind telling you, but first, I have a question."
Like it didn't make sense.
Or truly bizarre.
Or too bothersome to ask.
Arms pillowed behind her head, leaning back, she asked casually.
"Why do you think Oppa has to side with the revolutionaries?"
"..."
"Seven Dragon Society's his sworn enemy, so enemy's enemy is friend—you thought he'd help you smash the Silver Dragon Clan?"
Sergei was silent.
His reaction spoke clearer than words. Ekaterina giggled.
"You really know nothing about Oppa."
Not that she blamed Sergei.
World Peace Plan made everyone underestimate Sword Masters.
In this Iron Age, even their power forgotten.
Realizing Rimon was the only counter to Seven Dragon Society was impressive enough.
The problem: he'd focused only on Rimon's power, overlooking the key fact.
"If Oppa drew his sword for that, he wouldn't have risked his life seven times to stop the Sword Demon."
"...Because the Sword Demon was a butcher."
"Right—Oppa drew his sword because the Sword Demon killed a tenth of humanity."
The worst Sword Master in history, terror to Seven Dragon Society more than Sword Emperor or Rimon: Sword Demon.
Whom he'd slain, saving the world.
Speaking of Rimon, Ekaterina smirked slyly.
"Ever think of this?"
"...?"
"What's the difference between the Sword Demon who massacred to take down Seven Dragon Society, and you revolutionaries throwing the country into chaos to topple dictatorship?"
"...We're not like the Sword Demon."
"Good. Then you can answer my question."
Whether offended.
Or something nagging him.
His unusually heavy face refuting. Ekaterina smiled deeper.
Then spoke.
"Daily labor quota: 4 hours."
"20 hours a week, 80 a month."
"Work by 9 AM. Lunch 11 to 1. Off at 3 sharp."
"Overtime needs Central Supervisory approval. Minimum 300% pay per hour. Forced OT or non-payment: Gulag."
"Full education support, universal healthcare, full social insurance, minimum 30 paid vacation days, parents get 4 years each parental leave till child is 10."
"Free public facilities and transit. Newlyweds get 30-pyeong apartment free lease. Travel expenses reimbursed up to 90% by destination..."
Lazily.
Drowsily.
Precisely.
Reciting the basic rights every Russiacan overseer knew by heart.
Ekaterina lowered her legs from the table.
Tilted her backward chair forward, rested her chin on laced hands.
"Finally: firefighters, soldiers, etc., after set service, national merit recognition—lifelong tax exemption, first-class citizen pension."
"..."
"Now tell me."
Expectant grin.
Playful smile.
But eyes utterly cold, devoid of mirth, fixed on Sergei.
Russiacan's Great Khan asked the Soviet Federation's General Secretary.
"What's lacking in my country that you started a revolution?"