Only I Walk Alone

Despite the limited numbers of the upper echelons being unable to resist the sea of people, they ultimately controlled most of martian society’s resources. When they stopped supplying water and food to the levels below the third, those people suddenly panicked.

Additionally, the first-level administrators dispatched assassins to eliminate those giving speeches in the streets, leading to the fiercest onslaught against the people’s uprising, with the upper levels tightly controlling the middle and lower levels.

“If you want to live, stop causing trouble!”

Faced with this situation, many people became discouraged, and numerous onlookers went home. Most of these were from the middle class, mere spectators who would support whichever side seemed most likely to win by more than an 85% margin. If the odds were even, they’d just watch. Though behaving like weathervanes is a survival tactic, no one can blame them.

Therefore, as long as there is no conflict between the upper and lower levels, the society would have no conflict. But if the opposite were true, the society would be in turmoil.

Facing various attacks from the upper three levels, the revolutionary army retreated. Kabu urgently sought Wu Ge for advice.

Wu Ge handed Kabu a mask painted with a hammer and sickle, a symbol of the lower class’s struggle, famously known over four hundred years ago.

Wu Ge instructed Kabu, “Wear this mask. Let this revolution become a symbol, a spiritual support!”

Kabu, after much contemplation, resolutely put on the mask. He hadn’t read so many books on revolution for nothing; he understood what Wu Ge meant.

Before leaving, Kabu said, “Teacher, thank you for everything you’ve done for us these ten years. The fate of the Martian civilization is in your hands!”

Wu Ge felt a moment of realization; he hadn’t noticed that ten years had passed in the blink of an eye, what he initially thought could be resolved in a day had taken a decade.

The transformation of Mars’s surface had already begun. If the Martian revolution succeeded and they returned to the surface, they would see a beautiful, green city.

Thinking of this, Wu Ge said to Kabu, “After the revolution succeeds, you will see the real sky.”

Kabu responded, “The sky? How inspiring. Rest assured, teacher, I will lead all martians to see the real sky, even those conservative nobles.”

With Kabu’s departure, the future of all martians rested on his shoulders.

If Kabu failed, it would be impossible for martians to join the Earth civilization because martian nobles clung to their power. Joining the Earth would mean adopting democracy, and the so-called noble and administrator powers would be abolished.

Thus, Wu Ge silently supported Kabu and his cause for ten years. During this time, Wu Ge also systematically reviewed and reflected on his spiritual realm, finding a resonance with the spirits of the martian lower class. Intuition told him that if the martian lower class’s revolution succeeded, he too would gain new insights and break through his bottleneck.

Therefore, Wu Ge awaited with great anticipation.

Kabu, now masked, became active again, giving speeches alone despite people avoiding him for fear of assassination by the upper levels. Still, he tirelessly worked alone.

He roamed the streets and alleys, promoting his ideas everywhere he went, but no one responded to him; some even insulted him.

“Damn heretic, do you want us all to die? Spreading such thoughts at this time, are you insane? Someone from the upper levels come and assassinate this man!”

Kabu responded with a smile, “Even if I die, there will be another to take my place, even countless others. Every martian’s death is worthwhile for the future of the entire civilization.”

Someone loudly rebuked, “Heretic, in this world, being alive is what’s most important. Once you’re dead, you have nothing. Being ruled over is bearable as long as we are alive. That’s all that matters!”

Kabu still smiled, responding, “If living like livestock, enslaved and exploited, counts as being alive, then I refuse such a life.”

No one could argue with him, not because of Kabu’s superior oratory skills, but because he stood on the side of reason, deeply understanding that continuing this way meant themartian civilization had no future.

“Hey! Don’t you want to see the real sky?” Kabu often said this to people on the streets.

Gradually, he was treated as a madman, ignored by everyone. He said, “If those above could realize their mistakes and correct them, I’d rather be considered a madman, but those above will never correct themselves.”

Unheeded, the upper three levels’ nobles coldly watched Kabu turn into a public nuisance, believing this was their victory, the triumph of capital, thinking there was no need to eliminate this useless barking dog.

The arrogant nobles thought they had a significant advantage. They began to punish those causing disturbances, thinking they wouldn’t spare the lower classes. After the unrest settled, they would vent their anger.

More and more of the lower classes were innocently beaten and killed; martian women were abducted and violated.

The nobles and capitalists were carried away.

As a result, some started following Kabu—those oppressed by nobles, survivors of family tragedies, and those who had lost everything. They vowed to change this cannibalistic martian society!

Kabu turned the tables!

After months of standing alone, giving speeches, treated as a madman by his peers, and a fool by the upper echelons, he succeeded. The image of the hammer and sickle on his mask had penetrated deeply into people’s hearts, becoming a symbol forever remembered.

It became a symbol of equality, collective progress, and freedom!

“Stand up!” Kabu shouted from the platform, “People kneeling, stand up! Only by being free, can you truly be alive!”

More and more martians responded to his call, even young nobles from the upper three levels agreed with his theory.

A young noble remarked, “He’s right; this way, martians have no future. We can’t hope that aliens will never attack us. To progress, we must abandon backward ideologies!”

Kabu succeeded, even his enemies acknowledged him. He was about to create a new history, leading martians to witness the true sky!

“Bang!”

A gunshot rang out.

Kabu, passionately speaking on the platform, suddenly froze, incredulously looking at his chest stained with blood.

The first-level administrators had finally resorted to their dirtiest tactic, but this was merely their last struggle!