Do Your Own Revolution

#152

The Great Rupture was created by human malice.

And humans, in their foolishness, kept repeating wars endlessly.

An era of chaos where warfare never ceased.

Secretary General Vladimir tried to stop this insufferable war and reform the stagnant Republic.

The prophecy of continental destruction.

Anyone who witnessed that horrifying sight would have done the same.

“Not only researching those abominable monsters and contamination, but now rift exploration?! Vladimir, what in the world are you thinking, pursuing such nonsense?!”

However, what stood in his way was the bloodline he was born with.

To prevent noble blood from tainting the Republic’s values.

‘These ignorant fools who can’t see beyond their noses.’

The Secretary General, who had awakened the ability to see the future, effortlessly broke through the sharp blades of the existing powers.

General Secretary, Marshal, Supreme Commander.

The ability to see the future smoothly elevated him to the pinnacle of the Republic’s power.

As a result, he ended up making too many enemies.

“I apologize, but the Republic’s Border Guard is under my jurisdiction. Your Excellency need not concern yourself.”

“……”

The brilliant commander who controlled the border region, Georgi Kalinin.

A reform faction centered around him was gradually expanding their influence, and they tried to oust him while crying for the Republic’s transformation.

But it was fine.

“I am one who bears the mission of saving the Republic.”

He was someone who had to prevent the future of destruction and guide the people on the right path.

That was the duty—the greater cause—that he, as a hero, had to fulfill.

‘Right now, I simply lack time.’

Kalinin, his political opponent, was both a threatening figure and a reliable one.

Someday, he thought he could sit at the same table with them and discuss the future.

But what awaited him in the house he slowly opened the door to, thinking such thoughts…

“……”

“…Huh?”

His wife Gloria and daughter Lily, collapsed at the entrance.

Around their lifeless bodies lying cold were candies meant to celebrate the Harvest Festival.

[For the proud hero of the Republic, Secretary General Vladimir.]

The sentence written elegantly in his rival Kalinin’s handwriting.

Seeing this, the Secretary General could clearly tell who was responsible for this atrocity.

‘Have a safe trip, Papa! When you come back, you have to tell me more stories about the soldiers! Okay?!’

His little daughter who called him a hero and adored him.

‘Don’t waver. No matter what others say, I know you’re the Republic’s hero.’

His wife who looked at him with proud eyes.

The fact that his most precious treasures had been poisoned by Kalinin’s faction.

“Ha… Hahaha… Hahahaha…!”

As if something snapped in his mind, a weak laugh escaped from the Secretary General’s mouth.

The sense of loss from losing his family.

The rage toward his political opponents.

Before all that, what overwhelmed him was an indescribable emptiness.

“So this…! This is the voice of the people, you say?! Khahahahaha–!”

His usually composed eyes bulged, and the laughter wouldn’t stop.

When he spoke of the future of destruction, he was treated like a madman, and all research and preparations to prepare for destruction were dismissed as a tyrant’s oppression.

They try to drag him down while he struggles desperately to prevent the future of destruction?

For the sake of those who cry out for superficial reforms?

“It was all, all futile…!”

It was nothing more than children’s pretty words.

Persuasion, coexistence, compromise, discussion.

All of it was useless nonsense.

What was needed to save those ignorant masses wasn’t dialogue, but complete submission.

And for that, he needed absolute power that no one could oppose.

Kalinin’s son Petrenko.

Number 2 of the Intelligence Department.

Randall Dean Clark.

He had to become the one and only superhuman who would overwhelm all the superhumans of the Republic.

“Don’t worry, Lily.”

So, I shall become such a superhuman.

So that his daughter could be proud.

So that Gloria, who left first, could smile in the other world.

He would become a hero.

Even if it meant burning everything he wanted to protect by becoming a hero.

***

“…What kind of messed up dream is this.”

As I had painfully realized with Feilun, peeking into memories that weren’t mine was never a pleasant experience.

When I came to my senses and opened my eyes, what spread before me was a strange space with no visible end.

It was an oppressively stuffy space where murky smoke constantly choked the airways.

“It seems you’ve awakened.”

“?!”

The voice that greeted me was a familiar one.

Secretary General Vladimir.

I quickly reached for my holster, but I couldn’t point the gun at him.

The reason was simple.

The gun wasn’t there.

“Going straight for the kill the moment I speak—Imperial soldiers are quite savage fellows.”

“…!”

“Or perhaps that’s just right for young ones these days?”

A perfectly pressed uniform.

Rows of medals on his chest.

A smile drunk on victory.

Watching the Secretary General stroke his bushy beard, I quickly assessed the situation.

‘My body movement isn’t free, and magical power won’t come out either. Plus this constant sense of discomfort…’

It wasn’t just discomfort.

Hazy consciousness.

Constant headaches.

And the creepy foreign sensation running through every blood vessel and nerve in my body.

I recalled the scene where the Secretary General’s hand had dug into my shoulder.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing much. I merely connected your body with mine.”

Wow, that’s totally nothing much, you crazy bastard.

As I stood there blankly, not knowing what expression to make, the Secretary General standing opposite me opened his mouth.

“It’s a simple principle. Just as monster contamination infects the human body, my monsterized flesh has seeped into you.”

“…!”

Reading my mind?

“Of course I can read it. And that’s not all.”

If I want, I can speak through your mind like this.

“What the fuck?!”

What.

What just happened.

The Secretary General’s voice entered my mind without any resistance.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

If only my holster wasn’t empty, I’d put a bullet in his temple right now.

“Dr. Lavrenti was an authority on rift research. That fellow was studying pure-breeds, the monsters that appear from beyond the rifts.”

With the Secretary General’s gesture, a face that should be locked up in an Imperial prison suddenly appeared.

An illusion copying the subject’s appearance.

While I tensed up watching the insubstantial phantom, an eerie laugh spread from around the Secretary General.

“And after dissecting their brains for research, the doctor and I learned who was giving orders to them.”

I already knew without being told.

The Queen.

A being who could open and close rifts at will, and control the monsters beyond the rifts to descend upon this land.

At the same time, the unique cradle capable of creating a perfect body that transcends human limitations.

“Three magic imprints from the Imperial Family in a body built by controlling Arachne. Abundant magical power and Eugene’s timely manifested technique… Though it was a victory by a hair’s breadth, thanks to that, all plans have been completed.”

After muttering that, the Secretary General turned his head and commended me.

“Though it’s a consciousness that will soon disappear, I’ll still express my respect. Eugene Lorentz.”

“……”

“Your path, your power, and even your experiences. Truly befitting of an Imperial hero, such remarkable strength and willpower…”

“You’re spewing nonsense.”

I clearly understood the Secretary General’s plan.

His original body with Petrenko’s imprint.

A new body implanted with another Seven Stroke imprint.

And me, who possesses [Wings of Crimson].

He plans to achieve what Margrave Kassel called ‘awakening’ by fusing these three, right?

“That’s all fine.”

“What?”

“Your plan to eat up all the imprints and become this game world’s heavenly horse. I heard it all very well.”

Perhaps he didn’t like my subtly disrespectful attitude?

Too bad.

Thinking that, I continued speaking while looking at the Secretary General.

“But one thing. I really can’t stand you going on about heroes and nobility when it comes to me.”

“What did you say?”

The reason I’m making such a fuss? Nothing special.

Just because I could.

There was an opportunity right in front of me, and Eugene had the plan and power to seize it.

When there’s a clear path to survival, I can’t just quietly die.

A grand cause to save the world?

Aspirations to become a hero?

Ambitions to grasp the world?

Honestly, I don’t get it.

I don’t really empathize either.

I was planning to sell out those Revolutionary Army bastards who would betray me, enjoy some decent authority, live well, eat well.

Just live like that and maybe smear some shit on the wall before I go.

Then I could die comfortably or get reincarnated or whatever.

“You did all those things with such lukewarm sentiments? Subjugating all those mages, trampling the revolutionary flag, turning the Republic into a wasteland…!”

“You think I did it because I wanted to? Things just ended up this way as I went along.”

Did I kill Maximilien to destroy the Revolutionary Army?

Not at all.

I killed him simply because I wanted his imprint.

Because that was the most beneficial option.

Creating the Special Magical Power Unit was to change the structure where magic nobles monopolized mages? That’s bullshit.

I just wanted to create a military force I could use at will, and I simply offered appropriate compensation for it.

Things just got this big as I kept meddling here and there, sticking my nose where it didn’t belong.

Trampling the Revolutionary Army? What nonsense.

What was I supposed to do when they came at me trying to kill me first?

Burning down the Republic?

Ah, okay, I did do that one.

“I don’t particularly have any grand cause to save the world, nor ambitions to overthrow the rotten Empire.”

“……”

“I just did what I could each day to survive in the given circumstances. What underlies my choices isn’t any kind of nobility or sublimity, but simply one person’s survival instinct.”

And actually…

“Everyone lives like that, don’t they?”

“…!”

A short statement.

Hearing those quietly uttered words, the Secretary General’s expression twisted violently.

“You tried to prevent destruction.”

“Well, when you’re threatened at sword-point that you’ll die if you don’t stop it, you have to do something.”

“You personally shattered the Revolutionary Army that tried to weaken the magic nobles and overthrow the Empire!”

“You know, whoever sees trash first should clean it up—it’s just courtesy.”

Bang-!

A single impact.

With it, the Secretary General’s form facing me began to waver unstably.

“Was this all you were, Eugene…?”

Perhaps he was disappointed that I was different from what he expected.

“To think that the body I so meticulously planned to obtain wasn’t that of a hero but merely an ordinary person-!”

With that outburst, the Secretary General tried to completely corrupt Eugene’s mind and erase his personality.

Darkening vision.

Fading voices.

But I gritted my teeth and fought against the exhaustion and helplessness overwhelming my body.

‘This is pretty manageable.’

What makes this possible isn’t a hero’s grand cause, but just one person’s sense of responsibility.

A soldier’s sense of duty to clean up all the messes he created.

Such shallow will that most people commonly possess.

Of course it was.

Because I hadn’t become a hero, hadn’t become a tool, and hadn’t been used.

Not a hero who moves by coercion disguised as grand causes.

But a human being who acts by free will.

Whir–!

“?!”

As a red light swirled around me, the Secretary General who had been pressuring me flinched and stepped back.

‘Light from the imprint? No, this is…’

I quickly examined my right arm.

The [Wings of Crimson] engraved there showed no reaction, having lost its light.

Then the source of this red light was my left hand.

Slowly raising it, I stared with surprised eyes at the source of light emanating from me.

“A ring…?”

The source of light was a ring worn on my left ring finger.

Small.

But at the same time, emitting a vivid red light.

And beneath it, spreading black shadows.

“Ha.”

Irene’s words echoed in my mind.

‘Don’t worry, Eugene.’

‘Everything will work out.’

“You’re right, Irene.”

With a bitter smile, I looked at the object in my left hand.

A pistol made of black metal, and glowing red bullets.

The person going to hell with me, and the person waiting for me outside hell.

Thinking of these two people, I didn’t hesitate to aim it at the Secretary General’s face.

Bang-!

With the gunshot, the space surrounding me began to shatter.

“…!”

“As expected, it was all an illusion.”

As my hazy consciousness cleared, I could clearly see what the Secretary General was doing to me.

Three bodies connected through the shoulder.

Resonating magic imprints.

While buying time through our conversation, the Secretary General had planned to completely absorb my body.

“You said everything would work out.”

Whether I’ve regained my senses or not, the fact that I’m in a precarious situation on the brink of death hasn’t changed.

The only thing I can believe in now is what Irene said just before.

Recalling that, I immediately aimed the pistol at the Secretary General’s face.

“I believe you, Irene.”

“Yes!”

With that response, I pulled the trigger without hesitation.

When the Secretary General’s will disappears, all that remains here are the resonating magic imprints.

Then in this situation, there’s only one plan Irene would prepare.

The one to achieve awakening won’t be the Secretary General.

It will be me.

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