The Balkan Warring States, Part 3

It was nothing unusual for Joseph Stalin—a man who never hesitated to do the party's dirty work, from bank robberies to hostage-takings, to secure funds—to treat exile like a revolving door.

When the National Revolutionary Party arose in Russia, leading bandit gangs to raid exile camps and hunt down political prisoners, other exiles—even Lenin and Trotsky—had fled the country in haste, escaping to places like Paris, Geneva, or Vienna. Yet Stalin did not leave Russia.

Instead, drawing on his extensive experience with exile and the vast network of contacts he had established across various camps, he founded the Siberian Red Army to protect political prisoners.

Stalin read Lenin's treatise until the pages were worn thin. Perhaps it was because it fit the Russian situation so perfectly? Stalin had been deeply disappointed in Lenin for cozying up to the Social Democratic Workers' Party in the Austrian parliament, but after reading his treatise, he fell in love with Lenin all over again.

Unify the party and the military! Establish liberated zones! Advance from the countryside to the cities!

This new vanguard strategy was a perfect fit for the radical, control-obsessed Stalin. After all, Stalin was already ruling like a king over the Siberian Red Army and his liberated zones.

But that kingly reign was about to come to an end.

"Comrade Stalin! You must flee immediately! The Siberian Red Army guerrillas have been routed!"

"What? How?"

"They say the Tsar has begun sponsoring the National Revolutionary Party again. They've deployed a battalion of Cossack cavalry, and they've even brought in heavy weapons like machine guns."

As war broke out in the Balkans, the Tsar had resumed his support for the otherwise stranded National Revolutionary Party. The public considered it utter madness. Most assumed the Tsar would never commit an act that would draw such fierce condemnation from the international community.

But the Tsar, like most of the world, was neither as cold, as rational, nor as intelligent as Stalin. It was Stalin's mistake to have overestimated the Tsar.

"Should you not flee as well?"

"I will remain here in the liberated zone and fight to the death. This is my homeland; where would I go? Besides, I must buy time so our comrades can escape safely."

"...Comrade Aleksei—no, Alyosha. I will not forget your sacrifice. Stand strong."

"I have prepared three horses. Consider our farewells said. Go, hurry."

Stalin rode hard, eventually crossing the Austrian border. He had heard that Comrade Lenin had built up a base of support here. At long last, a weary Stalin arrived at the headquarters of the Social Democratic Workers' Party in Vienna.

"We heard that chaos has erupted in Russia once again. We are verifying asylum seekers. Your... name is Stalin?"

"That is correct."

The party staff member handling the asylum seekers checked a list provided by Shtal. There was a strict order that if anyone on this list came to the Social Democratic Workers' Party, they had to be reported immediately and given a warm welcome.

To show just how important Stalin was, his name was placed right below Trotsky, who was already famous among revolutionaries worldwide as the "Mouth of Hell."

Joseph Stalin...? I've heard that name recently. Wasn't he the secretary of the Siberian Red Army? I must report this to Representative Shtal immediately.

While arranging a hotel room and meals for the thoroughly exhausted Stalin, the staff member quickly sent word to Shtal.

I was currently buried in work regarding the Bosnian Agricultural Cooperative.

Even though land prices in Bosnia are cheaper than elsewhere, they're still not negligible. It's going to be difficult to buy up land in massive quantities and run it like a government department, the way we did in Hungary.

One of the biggest catalysts for establishing the Hungarian Agricultural Cooperative had been the collapse of land prices during the economic crisis. We had been able to buy up vast swathes of land for dirt cheap. Bosnia, however, was a different story. With military spending continuously rising as it was, we couldn't afford to acquire fifty percent of the nation's land like we did in Hungary.

I'll have to try that when a "real" war breaks out. Should I establish some other institution in preparation for that time?

While raising the Bosnian Agricultural Cooperative to a government-like level was difficult, we could still buy up all the cheap land near the borders.

Now, we need to have the Revolutionary Guard patrol the Bosnian Agricultural Cooperative, wage guerrilla warfare, and strike terror into the hearts of the Serbians... but who should I put in charge?

Archduke Franz Ferdinand and Archduke Otto needed to remain in the capital with me. Since we were in the midst of a war, high-profile figures had to hold down the fort in the capital. Hitler was busy building airplanes at the Hungarian Agricultural Cooperative, and Lenin had departed for Paris for his revolutionary work. As I was agonizing over this, a certain someone came to mind.

"Ah, right! There's Archduke Karl!"

I had first met Archduke Karl back when Archduke Otto was suffering from syphilis due to his promiscuous lifestyle. Though Karl—who would have become the Kaiser in the original history—was now far removed from the throne, he had nevertheless grown into a robust, dignified twenty-four-year-old young man. I hastily summoned him.

"It has been a long time. It is an honor to meet my father's savior."

"Ah, Your Imperial Highness. Please, speak comfortably."

"No, I cannot. Though you hold no official title, Representative Shtal, have you not risen to a position equivalent to Chancellor? A young man like myself is in no position to speak informally to you."

"Too young? Hitler, the leader of the Hungarian Cooperative, took charge of Hungary when he was barely past twenty."

The members of our "Shtal Family" were generally on the younger side. I myself was only in my late twenties. Hitler was almost the same age as me, so we spoke to each other with mutual respect. Archduke Karl was also only a few years apart from me.

This is practically no different from Gaddafi, who became head of state at twenty-seven.

Actually, was it? I had seized the reins of the state far faster than Gaddafi. In the context of the entire empire, I was the youngest of the young bloods. At any rate, I got straight to the point with Archduke Karl.

"Have you not studied military affairs under Archduke Otto? I would like you, Your Imperial Highness, to take charge of the newly established Bosnian Agricultural Cooperative."

"Is the position of Cooperative Leader not an elected one?"

"That is true, but since the Bosnian Agricultural Cooperative is in a border region, we intend to keep it as an appointed position for the time being. For now, most of its activities will involve militia operations."

"Representative Shtal, you are the savior of my father and our family. I will prepare to depart for Bosnia immediately."

And so, I successfully appointed Archduke Karl to the Bosnian Agricultural Cooperative. Since he had managed the empire reasonably well during World War I in the original history, he would surely do a good job with the cooperative. However...

Karl's role was akin to Zhuge Liang or Xun Yu in the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. I had found the talent to manage and operate the organization, but I lacked a field commander who could actually run the militia and plunge a dagger into Serbia's gut.

But I can't just drag some random officer from the regular army and plug them in...

If we were deploying the regular army, I could have easily asked Archduke Otto to bring over a competent general, and recruit him into the Shtal faction while I was at it. But...

The Revolutionary Guard belonging to the Bosnian Agricultural Cooperative was not a regular cavalry unit. They needed to be skilled in guerrilla warfare, capable of crossing borders independently if pushed, and adept at playing dumb if things went south. Was there no one like Hitler or Lenin around?

Just then, an urgent message arrived from the Social Democratic Workers' Party. The moment I heard the name, I felt as though I had found the perfect man for the job.

"Joseph Stalin!"

I remembered Stalin as a man with a fleshy face, a round belly, and a mustache as iconic as Hitler's. But the Stalin in his early thirties was completely different from my memory.

Is this... a different person with the same name? Why is he so ridiculously handsome?

Indeed. A man handsome enough to put Che Guevara to shame had arrived. I awkwardly sipped coffee with Stalin.

No, there's no way it's a different person. I can still see traces of the older Stalin's face. Besides, who else but Stalin would have the sheer audacity to form a guerrilla force and wage partisan warfare in Siberia?

He was much younger than the Stalin of the original history, and since he had been riding horses and roaming the Siberian plains with a bolt-action rifle, he hadn't had any opportunity to put on weight.

"You are quite handsome. Much more so than Lenin or Trotsky."

"What does good looks or ugliness have to do with the revolution?"

The way he took my words as sarcasm and showed his irritation was exactly like the paranoid, cold-blooded Stalin of the original history. Hmm. Looking at him now, it wasn't just his face that resembled Che Guevara. His track record was also remarkably similar to that of the communist guerrilla hero. In that case...

He has the makings of a star. Honestly, looks matter in politics.

Che Guevara was such an icon of his era that even capitalists loved him enough ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to print his face on countless T-shirts. If you looked at Che Guevara's life in the original history, it was a tragic tale: he pulled off the nearly impossible Cuban Revolution, but unable to contain himself, he ran off to Bolivia and the Congo to film "Revolution Season 2" before being shot dead by the CIA.

However, there were actually quite a few revolutionaries with such classic heroic narratives. Mao Zedong, for instance, had lived a romantic, wandering life that rivaled Liu Bei's before he came to power. So why were Mao Zedong and Ho Chi Minh unpopular, while Che Guevara was so beloved? Was it because the former succeeded while the latter failed? Nonsense. It was, of course, because of Che Guevara's handsome face.

He has the makings of a star. It would be perfect if he became the next icon of our Social Democratic Workers' Party and the Agricultural Cooperative.

Even militarily, he was an expert in Lenin-style guerrilla tactics who had literally clashed with Cossack cavalry in Siberia. He didn't have a single flaw. It was as if the most needed talent had arrived at the most critical moment. However...

Why does my circle only attract eccentrics? Is this the Monster Association? I've successfully collected the two most iconic mustaches of the twentieth century.

This bastard Stalin seems far more insidious and dangerous than Hitler... When I first met Hitler, he was merely a boy painter with an exceptionally rich artistic sensibility who knew how to utilize that sensibility in politics. He was also the type whose feelings showed instantly on his face. But Stalin?

Look at those eyes. They're the exact opposite ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of Hitler's!

If Hitler possessed a madness full of passion, Stalin had the eyes of a complete psychopath—someone who wouldn't bat an eye if a few people died right in front of him. I had never seen such a chilling person in my entire life.

"I must apologize for asking this, but... I heard from Comrade Lenin that Comrade Stalin is exceptionally cold and rational."

"You flatter me."

"Just out of curiosity, what is Comrade Stalin's dream?"

"Why, the revolution, of course..."

I shook my head.

"No. Do not lie to me. I am often told that I have a good eye for people, and I believe so myself. Comrade Stalin, is your dream truly the revolution?"

"Even if the world splits in two, my dream is to realize the communist utopia prophesied by Marx."

This won't do. He lacks honesty. Stalin, you are rejected.

"I see. It was a pleasure meeting you. If you need anything, please let the party know. Rest comfortably in Vienna, and once the situation in Russia stabilizes, you may return."

"I heard that the Bosnian Agricultural Cooperative is being newly established. As the de facto commander-in-chief of the Siberian Red Army, I have operated—"

"Please, leave."

"What is the reason?"

Stalin wiped the smile from his face and stared at me with chilling eyes.

"Doesn't your head feel like it's about to explode from having too many thoughts? You are twice, even three times smarter than everyone else. That is why you deliberately tried to stop thinking and live a simple life. When even that wasn't enough, you turned to brain-numbing bank robberies, and your Red Army activities were in the same vein. But can those thoughts ever truly stop? By now, you must have realized it. You are slightly different from other people. You are someone who only feels a thrill when you use that brilliant mind of yours to toy with people as you please. Am I wrong? Try to refute me."

"..."

"Now, stop the act and leave."

Stalin stared at me for a long moment with a gaze that could kill, then abruptly stood up from his seat. But just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠before exiting my office, he turned back, walked in, and plopped himself down in the chair.

"You certainly have a keen eye. Tell me, Representative Shtal, are you that kind of person as well? You do not seem like one."

"Of course not."

"Your face-reading game is mostly accurate, but unfortunately, you got a few things wrong. Do you truly wish to hear ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my real intentions?"

I felt goosebumps break out all over my body from the eerie, demonic aura radiating from Stalin. Gulping hard, I nodded.