I Became The Leader Of A Revolution In A Romance Fantasy

< Chapter 8: Not a Great Person – 2 >

The revolutionaries had numerous sins. One of them was killing a doctor and burning down a hospital.

* * *

Although they were collectively called the ‘revolutionaries,’ at the time of the Red Dawn, they were nothing more than a ragtag group with countless conflicting claims.

To be blunt, it was a situation where people with miserable lives thought, “Ah, I wish the world would end!” and grabbing a spear in their right hand and a torch in their left, they could instantly transform into makeshift revolutionaries.

Among them were those who divided society solely based on class, a worldview that dangerously intersected with extreme anti-intellectualism.

-Those who call themselves intellectuals are all collaborators of feudalism! Only when old thoughts and old cultures are entirely destroyed can a revolutionary new culture blossom!

Doctors, professors, lawyers, artists. Anyone who had ever made them feel inferior or humiliated was branded as an ‘intellectual collaborator with feudalism’ and dragged into the streets. Torture, looting, rape, and murder followed.

In the process, the revolutionaries dragged out the nation’s only pediatric specialist from his clinic, brutally tortured him, and threw his mangled body back inside before setting the small basement hospital on fire. No one cared that there were patients hospitalized in the room next to the clinic.

-Save us!

-It’s, it’s hot! Aaaah! Aaaaargh!

Amidst the rising flames, the desperate hands of children under twelve banged and shook the doors, but until those hands were completely charred and fell limp, the thugs who called themselves revolutionaries just laughed hysterically. Such an event had occurred.

* * *

“……”

Hmm, this insane author. Well, anyway, that’s how it was in the original story. Naturally, this didn’t happen in ‘my’ Red Dawn.

‘Because I broke their heads.’

When I took over a group of revolutionaries, the first thing I did, well, not exactly the first…

(I had to deal with those who would torture and kill my family and the primary supporting characters first. Next were those who would blow up the royal palace.)

Anyway, roughly around the third or fourth priority, I tracked down and either broke the heads of or absorbed into our group those who crossed the line in the original story. Consequently, by some means or another, I ended up commanding the majority of the revolutionaries.

“Congressman?”

Ah, I must have been lost in thought. The reporters were still waiting for my comment in front of me.

-The Children’s General Hospital of the Revolution has become a chronic deficit, draining the committee’s funds. It has turned into a problematic project. Could you please comment on this?

“Did he ask that?”

I laughed brightly and rubbed my face against the belly of the child I was holding.

“Goodness. Even after seeing these children’s smiles, are you talking about money first, Mr. Reporter? How cold-hearted.”

It was a playful tone. Since starting interviews with jokes was practically my trademark, the reporters took it as a joke and chuckled.

‘But someone will definitely write an article about this.’

– Congressman Hastings: “Children’s smiles cannot be measured by money.”

If they don’t? Our office would write the article and send it to the newspaper with a ‘small fee,’ so there would be an article anyway.

These little things built up the image of me as a politician. Hiding the calculations ticking away in my head, I put the child down with an “oop.”

Then, with a casual gesture, I gathered the reporters and began the serious response.

“What I said earlier was a joke. Money is important. Any politician who claims otherwise is either a liar or irresponsible.”

“Haha, Congressman, some revolutionaries might not like what you’re saying.”

Of course, they wouldn’t like it. And that’s precisely why I was saying it.

“That’s where the misunderstanding starts. The social contradictions of the old era arose because a specific class monopolized the means of production. It’s not the money itself that should be condemned.”

As I continued with words that would raise eyebrows among many in the Revolutionary Committee, the reporters swallowed hard, but I didn’t care.

“The problem with the royal family and nobility of the old era wasn’t that they were wealthy. It was that they monopolized the means of production, plundering the wealth of the entire nation while shirking social responsibilities. This isn’t just a moral issue; it’s a very real problem where a few individuals’ gluttony caused the entire nation’s wealth to dry up.”

A reporter threw down his pen and stood up, his arm adorned with a red armband provided by the Revolutionary Committee.

“Are you saying the revolution happened because of money?!”

Of course. Every revolution is like that. Ultimately, the marginalized class, excluded from wealth and power, adopts an ideology that serves them, and they rally around it as a weapon to topple the establishment. That’s revolution.

Clap!

I clapped once to draw attention.

“Now, let’s get back to the original topic. Does the Children’s General Hospital of the Revolution cost money? Yes, it does. It could be a liability or a problematic project, as someone said.”

I continued with a gentle smile.

“My answer to that is exactly what I said earlier.”

“?”

“The officials of the old era didn’t become corrupt because they possessed wealth. They became corrupt because they didn’t fulfill their social responsibilities.”

“Ah…!”

Several reporters gasped in astonishment. They had grasped my point. I smiled brightly once again and leaned towards the children.

The child with severe skin disease, well, I’m sorry, but you are not suitable for the front page of the newspaper. The public is obsessed with appearances. Skipping over to find the prettiest girl… no, in this insane republic, some idiot might falsely accuse me of pedophilia, so she’s out too.

Instantly, I sifted through and picked the most suitable child. Then, I gave a media-friendly smile.

“Most of the wealth in the capital is currently held by the Revolutionary Committee. That is precisely why this social responsibility is an opportunity for the committee to show that it is different from the corrupt officials of the old era.”

“But as you said, Congressman, money is important. If the deficit continues, not only this hospital but also various projects promoted by the committee will all be in jeopardy, won’t they?”

“Money is important, but it is important as a means. It can never be the goal. The goal of our society must always be the happiness of its citizens and the public good.”

The reporter still looked like he had more to say, but finding a counterargument to such a picturesque ‘principle’ would not be easy.

“Children are the future of the Republic. Would maintaining a specialized general hospital for such children serve the public good? I would firmly say ‘yes.’ So, should we then make the people receiving treatment pay the full cost to relieve the committee’s financial burden? That would be no different from the old era, where only the wealthy could enjoy the services provided by society. Don’t you agree?”

Didn’t I tell you? The more specific you get, the more you get attacked, and the more you stick to lofty principles, the more invincible you become.

Even these reporters from another world, who haven’t yet suffered the ideological madness of the 20th century by Earth standards, would find it hard to counter this. Some might instinctively think, ‘Isn’t this too idealistic?’ but still.

I smiled gently. And once again, I imprinted the slogan I’ve been pushing since publicly mentioning the New Deal policy.

“A country where everyone lives well. A country where everyone is happy. Ladies and gentlemen, that is the Republic.”

* * *

After the interview ended, I went through the rest of my schedule.

I could have just finished the interview and disappeared, but instead, I spent about three hours listening to the difficulties of the medical staff, playing with the children, helping with chores, and even writing a few checks for children in critical condition.

It was better to do so.

The Republic still had some romance, so when people were moved by such acts, they spread good stories everywhere.

Anyway, after working so hard where there were no reporters, by the time the schedule at the Children’s General Hospital of the Revolution ended, fatigue had reached the top of my head.

I waved and smiled brightly at the children and nurses until the very end.

The moment I sat in the back seat of the vehicle and closed the door.

“Phew.”

My body went limp like well-cooked vegetables.

The vehicle started moving towards the next schedule.

“Good job.”

Ms. Lize suddenly handed me a drink.

The moment I took a sip without knowing what it was, my mouth cooled down, and my brain lit up.

“!”

Iced Americano. The light of my life, the flame of my existence. My addiction, my soul!

Modern people have a chronic disease where they can’t endure work if their blood caffeine levels drop.

The problem was, the primitive people in this otherworldly romance fantasy seemed to think they would die if they drank coffee cold and diluted!

So I couldn’t enjoy it unless I was at my home or office!

“There was ice at the hospital, so I made it with coffee from a nearby café.”

Ms. Lize, who smiled gently, looked like an angel.

“Phew, if it weren’t for you, Ms. Lize, I would have quit a long time ago.”

I said sincerely.

But then, a strange sound leaked out from beside me.

“Haah…!”

“?”

Ms. Lize was trembling, covering her mouth with both hands.

“…?”

“Ah, um… I mean…”

“…??”

“Q-quit? You were born to govern, I mean to do politics!”

Ah.

I leaned back in the rear seat of the vehicle.

And I took another sip of my iced Americano.

The pleasant cold cooled my head, awakening the cold machine within me.

The past year.

It had been quite a fruitful time.

Money, if it was money.

Fame, if it was fame.

I had accumulated sufficient assets in both financial and political terms.

As long as I didn’t fail at tightrope walking, my survival was guaranteed.

As long as I didn’t fail at tightrope walking.

‘If even that condition doesn’t sit well with me, am I too unscrupulous?’

Let’s seriously think about the identity of those who might stab me in the belly if I got on their wrong side.

The people who would kill all of Eugene Hastings’ parents, friends, and acquaintances? Well, let’s say that’s a given.

The pediatrician at the Children’s General Hospital of the Revolution, who was originally a dead man? The young patients who would have burned to death alive?

‘The baby Hitler dilemma, my foot.’

– Suppose you were given the chance to go back in time and kill baby Hitler. Baby Hitler hasn’t committed any crimes yet, but if you kill him now, you can prevent all historical atrocities. Would you kill him?

It was a famous dilemma on Earth.

In fact, strictly speaking, this dilemma is a clash between consequentialism and deontology.

A consequentialist would argue, “If you kill baby Hitler, you can save millions by sacrificing one life,” and would kill him.

A deontologist would argue, “Killing a baby who hasn’t committed any crimes violates my moral duty, regardless of the outcome,” and would not kill him.

My logic, on the other hand, is a bit simpler.

– It’s bullshit.

The Revolutionary Army, now renamed the Revolutionary Committee, still functions as the central organization of this country.

Knowing exactly what kind of scumbags these ragtag bastards originally were and what they would have done.

For me, knowing that these bastards not only hold power and live well but also have half a grip on my lifeline was hard to accept and just let go.

“Don’t you think it’s strange?”

“What is…?”

“The Revolutionary Committee was a transitional organization until the Republic was established. But even after the Republic was proclaimed and the National Assembly was properly established, the Revolutionary Committee still remains.”

Even more unbearable is the irony that it’s partly my fault that the Revolutionary Committee was established and that power and authority were concentrated there.

“Moreover, the Revolutionary Committee is becoming more extreme and entrenched, creating problems rather than solving them.”

“…I heard that the commander who harshly suppressed the vagrants last time was appointed by the Revolutionary Committee.”

Yeah, that’s the problem.

No matter how much I cater to other people, bowing to such bastards makes me sick to the point where I want to quit.

But with money in one hand and politics in the other, after working my ass off for the past year and accumulating enough assets, I decided there was no need to endure it any longer.

The declaration of the New Deal policy was, in my own way, a kind of celebratory signal announcing the beginning of my actions.

I smiled slightly and then gave an order.

“Prepare to establish an organization.”

“An organization… you mean?”

“Legally, it doesn’t matter if it’s a foundation or something else. Let’s decide after consulting with a lawyer.”

It was time to gather my scattered people and organizations into one.

“The Revolutionary Committee will soon be dysfunctional. I’ll make sure of it.”

“!”

The burden of one general hospital was just the beginning.

The corrupt and incompetent Revolutionary Committee continued to incur losses despite holding all the wealth of the capital.

I would simply push them a little harder.

Meanwhile, I would continue to advocate for ‘social obligations’ to ensure the Revolutionary Committee couldn’t let go of the projects that only brought them losses.

As I said before, the slogan of everyone prospering together is a complete scam.

‘There are two main objectives.’

One is to ensure that the Revolutionary Committee struggles in the mire of losses and can’t abandon its deficit projects.

But even that is merely a secondary goal; the real objective is…

‘To instill the simple concept in the public’s mind that a politician who doesn’t fulfill social responsibilities is a corrupt politician.’

And when the Revolutionary Committee inevitably fails.

Someone will rise to shoulder the ‘social responsibilities’ they neglected.

“Have you heard of the term social enterprise?”

I smiled at Ms. Lize.

From the male lead of a fantasy romance to the leader of a revolution, I was once again planning to overturn this country.

This time, not by chance, but by my clear will.

Because living and breathing only within the limits of not offending those bastards was just too shitty.

…Of course, it’s not important at all.

It’s just inconvenient to skim a little.

Ahem.