Chapter 424
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 424
Chapter Title: Haven't You Learned History?
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"This country is far too harsh on its citizens."
"Housing, vehicles, travel destinations—everything is restricted by citizen rank for purchase and use."
"Those who fail to meet their labor quotas lose labor points, forcing them into the bare minimum standard of living. In the worst cases, they're shipped off to the Gulags."
"Do you know what it's like in the Gulags? Forced labor for a full eight hours a day."
"If they don't meet their quotas, even meals are replaced with nutrient supplements, and access to recreation rooms and other free facilities is banned."
"That's why this country needs a revolution."
The revolutionary government's safehouse.
While passionately ranting in the underground hideout they'd used since their rebel days,
Batshevsky wore a puzzled expression.
"Brother Rino? What's wrong?"
"......I've got a lot I want to say, but let's start with this."
The white-haired young man pressed his temples as if nursing a headache.
Rimon asked quietly,
"Why are you ranting all this to me?"
"It's Teacher's orders. He figured you'd be bored while held hostage, so he told me to discuss the necessity of revolution with you in the meantime."
"Ah, I see."
'Trying to shake the New Revolutionary Army through me? For that, the choice of messenger is a bit......'
He scratched his chin for a moment.
Pushing aside the needless worries, Rimon decided to deal with his headache first.
"Hey, researcher dude. This is just advice...... but you might want to avoid saying that stuff in front of foreigners. Especially in front of my pet."
"Your pet?"
"Yeah."
As if wondering what nonsense this was,
Rimon sighed at the baffled Batshevsky and said,
"I'm pretty sure my pet would've launched an enraged flying side kick if she'd heard you."
[Hmm...... my ears are itching for some reason. Is someone talking about me?]
[Overwork? Nah, no way. Back in my PAB days, I handled 20-hour shifts like a breeze.]
[Sleep? I caught naps while the team leader was out busting criminals.]
[Meals? I'd eat bread or whatever while writing reports.]
[Thanks to that, I made good money. In our country, high-level Players got 160% overtime pay.]
[Huh? What did I spend it on? Buying clothes and gifts for the kids, donating......]
[An orphanage doesn't run properly on just government funding, after all.]
[Travel? What kinda cursed talk is that? Gotta earn while you're young! No savings means suffering in old age.]
[......Though I died before I even got that old.]
[Still, with job markets this tough these days, if you can land a gig paying that much at a young age, you oughta work 22 hours if not 20.]
"That's just exaggerated rumor, isn't it?"
"You think it's exaggerated?"
"Of course. Who'd volunteer for 20-hour days without a gun to their head?"
"Well, natural-born workaholics aren't common...... logically speaking."
Batshevsky unwittingly relaxed at Rimon's words, delivered with a subtly odd expression, and shouted,
"See!"
"But people who can lounge around eating for free 24/7 their whole lives? Even rarer."
"......What are you trying to say?"
"If you think revolution will bring riches and glory to everyone, wake up."
"I'm not dreaming of some absurd utopia."
"Then what kind of country are you trying to build?"
"I told you. One without class discrimination, where everyone lives free and equal."
"Never seen one."
"Pardon?"
"Every country has class divides. Nobody gets to do whatever they want."
Power, wealth, bloodlines, regional ties, education, gender, age, race.
They might not be formalized,
but throughout history, in every era and place, hierarchies and discrimination have existed for all sorts of reasons—and they always will.
Rimon said flatly.
In truth, money might not be everything in life, but an ancient, unchanging truth was that one's wealth determined the scope of their freedom.
"And this is just my opinion, but purely on class systems, the Russikan Nation is relatively fair."
"That dictator's country is fair?"
"At least it gives everyone a shot at climbing the ranks."
Rimon shrugged.
Pass the exams with talent,
or sheer diligence,
or sacrifice for the nation.
Anyone who proves ability and merit can rise.
Meanwhile, those squandering talent through laziness, riding family prestige, or stirring social unrest see their citizen ranks drop.
Corruption is rare, thanks to the Okhrana and Central Inspection Agency's rigorous oversight.
It might be overly meritocratic,
but in terms of fairness, the Russikan Nation offers equal chances at success.
Batshevsky reflexively countered Rimon's calm words.
"So over 80% of Russikan citizens being third-class means they're all lazy?"
"Regardless of effort, the 20% who passed exams are clearly more diligent or talented than the other 80%. Fact."
"That's......!"
"If you wanna deny it, explain why first-class citizens dominate the revolutionary government's top ranks first."
"......"
Batshevsky was speechless.
Not only had first-class citizens endured grueling duties just for their status,
but the third-class bureaucrats they'd promoted were bungling everything, only worsening the chaos.
"......They just lack proper higher education to utilize their abilities."
"Russikan has compulsory education."
"That's just basics. First-class kids get private tutoring from parents before school."
"Oh? Then we shouldn't give first-class kids that tutoring opportunity either."
"That's not what I......"
"It's not just education. From childhood, everything they eat, wear, see, and hear is education."
Not even waiting for Batshevsky's rebuttal,
Rimon said leisurely,
"The ideal would be sending every newborn to random state nurseries. Then everyone grows up equal, right?"
"What nonsense is that!"
"Why? Some country actually forced that on its whole population."
"Don't spout such lunacy! What mad nation would do that?!"
Batshevsky bristled.
There were limits to equality.
Forcing newborns into facilities for mere equity was pure insanity.
And Rimon gave him a strange look.
"......I've felt this before, but do you revolutionaries just not study your own country's history?"
"What do you......?"
Wondering at the sudden remark,
Batshevsky frowned reflexively—then flinched.
He realized why Rimon said it.
A memory flashed.
"You're spot on, researcher dude."
Nodding at his dawning expression,
Rimon flashed a cold smile.
"For the sake of everyone's equality and freedom, the original Soviet Union actually did that insane thing."
"Any other revolutionaries might not know, but you, General Secretary—you know some of it, don't you?"
"Know what?"
"How much of a mess the Soviet Union—this country—was."
"......"
Silent, Sergei stared.
Ekaterina chuckled at him.
His grim face told her she'd hit the mark.
So, like a kitten clawing a mouse's wound, she gleefully continued.
"It wasn't like that from the start, of course. Early on, they aimed for a workers' paradise of equality."
The Soviet Union.
After toppling the Russian Empire,
they devoured neighboring lands to form the world's first and largest communist state.
Known as the USSR, it had seemed poised to paint the world red just a century ago.
But their ideals crashed against harsh reality.
"The problem? That was the Heroes' Age."
The Sword Star's Greater East Asia Empire.
The United States with Sword Spirit and Sword Wolf.
India's theocracy led by Sword Master.
Europe guarded by Sword Light.
The Soviet Union formed in the early 20th century—
when history's most Sword Masters coexisted.
No Players like today, and humanity's tech far inferior to now. Heroes' Age.
Only nations with Sword Masters qualified as powers.
No matter the vast territory,
or millions-strong armies.
Without a Sword Master—or even an Absolute-class superhuman—the USSR was a weakling.
Inevitable.
A revolutionary state excluding elites, it was bound to clash with existing superhumans.
Had Russia an Absolute-class, the revolution would've failed anyway.
"So the Union scrambled to survive among the powers."
Declaring to remake the world into a workers' paradise, the USSR marked every power as enemy.
Or, any Sword Master had reason to invade.
Especially one.
Thus, they pulled desperate stunts to counter Sword Masters.
Superhuman Project.
Ability Weaponization.
Brainwashing Tech Research.
National Militarization.
Otherworld Migration Plan, etc.
Even then's other nations deemed them mad. That's the Soviet Union.
"And that wrecked the country."
All plans failed, naturally.
But time, budget, manpower? Drained massively.
Squandering national strength meant for domestic use bred countless issues.
Yet the Union pushed ideal-state plans relentlessly.
Result:民生 collapsed, public support plummeted.
Doom loomed.
Everyone knew.
But they didn't stop.
Like a gambler staking daughter after losing fortune to recoup,
Having poured in so much, the Soviet Union couldn't halt.
No—its then General Secretary and Party members had to prove themselves right.
Much like the current revolutionary government couldn't end the war it'd started.
"Funny part? A true savior appeared for that Soviet Union."
"......"
As if guessing who,
Sergei hardened further, and Ekaterina giggled.
Like watching comedy,
With a cheerful smile,
Ekaterina said in theatrical tones, as if reading a script,
"Russia's imperial family's last survivor, who lost country, family, everything to the noble revolution."
When the Russian Empire fell.
Imperial family massacred by revolutionaries.
Among them, the woman who miraculously survived, trained at the Sword Tower, awakening latent talent.
Among the seven disciples Rimon raised, the last to engrave her name at the Sword Tower.
A Sword Master.
"Sword Empress Anastasia."