I Became The Leader Of A Revolution In A Romance Fantasy

Chapter 2 - Survival-Type Revolutionary Idol



< Chapter 2: Survival-Type Revolutionary Idol >

 

It had been a year like a storm.

At the moment I possessed this body, the people, the “Revolutionary Army,” were burning down the capital.

“Uh, what?” Then, boom! The so-called “revolution” exploded. To be honest, it was just a coalition of clumsy and hopeless individuals that somehow succeeded.

And if things had gone as they originally should have, their occupation of the capital would have led to a tragedy where royal family members were dragged out and tortured like toys, one by one having their heads chopped off.

In the synopsis of the second part written by the author, the characters who had become corpses were now glaring at me with eyes full of resentment.

Among them, the noble young man, who was better called a boy, was staggering with a complexion that looked like he might collapse at any moment.

“Brother.”

He strode towards me.

Then, the people who were standing around me, ostensibly my “fellow assembly members,” rushed over to surround me.

“Your Excellency. It’s dangerous!”

“Prince! Don’t come any closer! Who allowed a non-member to enter the main assembly hall in the first place!”

And in the midst of their overprotection, I was swinging back and forth with dead eyes, suffering from real-time disillusionment.

“Please, stop calling me ‘Your Excellency’… ha.”

In a faction that supposedly aimed for the complete abolition of the class system, it was absurd to hear my fellow members calling me “Your Excellency.” Seriously, is this right?

I pushed past the colleagues who were trying to dissuade me and walked towards the boy.
In the middle of the main assembly hall.

The boy, who was once His Highness Prince Philippos of the Andrastra dynasty but had just become Mr. Philippos Andrastra by a recent resolution, bit his lip.

“How could you do this?”

“……”

“Your Excellency, are you happy hearing that title after betraying your friends and our family?”

1. I, too, find the title “Your Excellency” chilling.

It feels like it’s leading to either being shot while drinking or having my head shaved.

Why do these revolutionaries love titles so much and are desperate for personal worship?

2. Honestly, telling a modern person who has possessed someone in the middle of a revolution,

“Consider the original relationships of the person you possessed, live as a fugitive who could die at any moment, get your body battered here and there, and suffer from poverty, disease, and pain for the rest of your life!”

is a bit of a tough demand.

And number 3.

…As an editor, I was involved in your creation.

The crazy author rampaged from the first part, trying to turn you into wretched human figures suffering in a twisted, tragic story.

The one who grabbed the writer by the collar and molded you into who you are now, well. Considering the actual writing was done by the writer, I would say only about 20-30% of the credit goes to me.

So, in that moment of chaos when I was dropped right into the middle of this world…

In my own way, I wanted to prevent you from meeting such a terrible end.

It would be a lie to say the snowball didn’t roll in the process, but this was also my own way of showing affection for you. It was a decision that might lose position but could keep the body unharmed.

“……If I said that, you’d believe it.”

Moreover, these crazy half-baked revolutionaries still shining their eyes around me.

Whenever their gaze turned to me, honestly, I broke out in a cold sweat.

Right now, they’re praising me as leader, Your Excellency, but what would happen if I acted even a little bit ‘conservatively’?

Hint. Originally, I was on the purge list during the revolution.

– Hm? Where’s that ‘reactionary’ smell coming from?

– After all, the ‘blood of the nobility’ can’t be helped?

– That ‘feudalist’ is finally showing his true colors!

‘Fuck.’

Just moments ago, I was the Second Coming of the revolution, but I would have been nailed to the cross, becoming the whole country’s plaything to poke at and make fun of.

So, the words I could say to Mr. Philippos Andrastra, who was trembling with betrayal, were decided.

“I do not sympathize with oppressors. It’s because I empathize with the suffering of the oppressed.”

“!”

“Are you upset that the monarchy was abolished? Are you feeling wronged because the throne that was to be yours in the future has vanished? Don’t be mistaken! The throne of the monarch is not something bestowed by the heavens, and it is certainly not an inherent right for anyone to monopolize!”

People’s eyes widened.

Philippos and the royalists had expressions like ‘That bastard?’, while the revolutionaries’ faces were flushed with almost religious fervor.

As for me,

‘What the hell am I saying?’

Not even knowing if it made sense, I just burned my soul in the act of being a devoted clown.

“Only the people! Only the people are the true masters of this country, and the monarchy is nothing but a structural contradiction that exploits the people!”

With a tone that reminded me of a certain mustache, I shouted while even waving my fist.

“In the name of the people, I command. Old era, collapse! New era, dawn!”

The revolutionary assembly members burst into applause, and the reporters who had stayed in the main hall just in case scribbled madly with their pens.

“Hastings! Hastings! Hastings!”

“God, protect His Excellency!”

“Long live His Excellency! Long live the revolution!”

‘Fuck.’

This was the problem.

Whenever the spotlight was on me, an instinctual “angle” revealed itself. And when I followed that angle, burning my survival instincts without really knowing what I was saying, I ended up in this state. The result of a year of this behavior was me becoming the leader of the revolutionaries.

‘Could it be a disaster I brought upon myself?’

No, that couldn’t be!

Nevertheless, the outcome didn’t change.

Surrounded by the cheers of fervent supporters, I saw the royalist members of parliament looking at me with disgust, as if they were seeing a terrible monster and spitting at me.

Many of them were acquaintances or relatives of “Eugene Hastings.”

This was the final episode of the first part.

If events had unfolded as originally intended, many of them would have died during the chaos of the revolution or suffered even worse fates.

My spontaneous actions had altered history, and while the people I grew attached to avoided miserable destinies, they ended up hating me instead.

‘It’s unfair.’

I even felt a bit of emotional guilt towards them and created a foundation to support the old nobles so they wouldn’t suffer from extreme hardships.

(But the foundation’s funds were pooled together to support royalist parliament members representing them.)

As one by one they turned their backs on me, the last to look at me was young Philippos, who muttered with a voice full of resentment.

“Brother. Could you shout that in front of Sister?”

“……”

The dethroned royal princess.

The protagonist of the original novel.

And the one with whom I had thought we were lovers until the moment I was possessed.

On the day I was possessed, I deviated from the original first part’s ending, preventing the palace explosion.

The mob that was supposed to blow up the palace all followed me instead.

She was unharmed, and I did not stay with her.

But what feelings would the princess, unaware of the first part’s ending and the second part’s synopsis, harbor towards me?

Leaving me unable to answer, Philippos finally turned his back on me and left the main assembly hall.

* * *

Even after that, I heard countless remarks about being the “heart of the revolution,” honestly thinking the revolutionaries would fail, but joined the cause after seeing me.

After hearing all sorts of comments, I was finally able to return to my office.

But even there, the clown’s duties weren’t over.

My aides and secretaries flocked to me, saying it was amazing, they were moved, they respected me, and all sorts of other things.

“Now, everyone, Congressman must be tired, so let’s leave.”

It was Lize Carter who saved me.

She was my chief aide.

Over the past year, she had perfectly adjusted to my tastes, offering me a “diluted coffee with ice.” In other words, an iced Americano.

“You can rest for about 10 minutes before your next schedule, Congressman.”

A C-curl perm with long black hair, slightly voluminous and curled inward at the ends.

A sophisticated style that actively follows the latest trends in this world, where, fittingly for a romance fantasy novel, only beauty standards have developed to near-modern levels.

True to her ‘revolutionary’ nature, her tight outfit, inspired by military uniforms, was not much different from a 21st-century office worker’s attire.

Added to that were her extremely rare, sparkling purple eyes within her intelligent gaze.

She was a beauty that instantly reminded one of a cold-hearted elite.

“Ten minutes, huh.”

I nodded and entered my personal office inside the congressman’s office.

Then I immediately collapsed.

“Ughhh.”

I really can’t do this anymore.

When I was young, short, and light, I could fall as easily as breathing without getting hurt at all.
But now that I’m grown and falling from high places?

It genuinely hurts like hell.

So what about now?

‘I’m hanging from an incredibly high place. Shackled by the words I’ve been boasting around.’

“Aah, how did it come to this?”

Save me.

I just want to quietly retire and disappear.

I want to live quietly in the countryside as a wealthy man.

I’ve stashed away plenty of slush funds!

Anyway, the blade that would be wielded to purge the entrenched powers.

Who was the one to decide where and how to wield that blade?

A successor who was inspired by the cause of the people (originally the masses, but our revolutionary faction prefers the term “people”), realized the contradictions of the corrupt old regime, and self-criticized.
A political idol, practically the face of the inaugural parliament of this country, leading the revolution!

That’s me.

– “Feudalism, where people are subjugated by others, is the root of the old regime that must disappear! All men are equal, so where do kings and nobles come from?”

– “We must confiscate the nobles’ lands! They have monopolized all the fruits of the labor by exploiting the people’s labor force while pretending the land was their own! Dismantle the titles! Confiscate the estates!”

This was the very reason we completely fell out with the royalists, centered around the old nobility.

But it’s unfair.

These revolutionary bastards proceeded by taking lives instead of land, according to the original storyline!

In reality, political thugs occupied the capital and bombed each other, burning down the entire country in the future. I worked hard to steer it towards something resembling politics!

‘…Though, to those who suffered, that’s not the case.’

But our family estate was lost the same way!

I’m a victim of my own tongue, too!

…Of course, before shouting all that at the forefront of the revolution, I had converted about 70% of my family’s real estate into safe assets like gold and silver.

Although I wanted to retrieve 100%, I had no choice but to sacrifice 30% to avoid people’s suspicion.
And when the land confiscated from the nobles was redistributed at a relatively favorable price, I managed to snatch a few prime pieces of land under borrowed names…

For example, among the settings mentioned in the synopsis of Part 2, there was a rural farm described as “land that will someday grow into the best wine farm.”

“……”
Well, besides that, there were also foreign investments made by taking advantage of the plummeting currency value right after the revolution.

With the land confiscation and redistribution, cash dried up in the country, leading to a “Cash is King” status in the republic’s economy.

Effectively becoming the only investor, I monopolized various businesses and rights.

As I thought about the solid retirement fund I’d secured through such minor operations, a smile crept onto my face.

Just as I was escaping reality by rolling my asset portfolio around in my head, a knock on the door woke me up.

Knock knock.

“Congressman, it’s time for you to leave.”

“……Is it already that time?”

“Yes, the next schedule is in the old downtown area of your constituency.”

“Have the reporters been called?”

“Yes. As you instructed, we’ve also invited royalist commentators this time.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

I downed the remaining iced coffee and stood up.

But Lize hesitated.

She always assisted me with a cool head, so I didn’t take her hesitation lightly.

“What’s the matter?”

“……Will it be okay?”

Just one sentence carried all her worries.

What on earth were you thinking, inviting royalist commentators?

What on earth were you thinking, going to the slums in these troubled times?

What on earth were you thinking, planning to write an article about a congressman talking to ordinary
citizens on the street?

But among all these worries, the biggest one was.

“Do you have a plan to counter the slums?”

Yes, that must be it.

There will surely be cries of ‘Save us, sir!’ and if I can’t give a proper answer, this schedule is worse than not doing it at all.

And there’s only one answer I can give to that.

“Do you think I have one?”

“……Pardon?”

“The country is practically ruined. The republic has collapsed once and is now rising from the ruins. How on earth can I fix this with a magic trick?”

I fully expressed the sentiment of ‘We’re screwed’ that I couldn’t reveal in front of others.

If I showed this side of myself in front of those who viewed me as some living god of the revolution, I’d quickly be demoted to a mere human and become the target of mockery.

– My name is Lize Carter.

– If you ask why I applied to this congressional office… it’s because I was deeply impressed by how you saved yourself under the guise of a grand cause.

From the beginning, Lize had been cynical, and I could confide my true feelings to her.

A political arena filled only with over-immersed people.

I wish others would be like this too.

“Well, we have to try anyway. We’ll be late. Let’s really go now.”

I left the congressional office.

* * *

And one step behind him, following, was Lize Carter, ‘the only moderately cynical person in a political arena filled with over-immersed people.’

She trembled.

‘A clear ideal. Innate charisma. And yet, an exceptionally cold sense of reality. Ah…’

“Ugh.”

An excited sigh escaped her lips involuntarily.

Stopping mid-walk, Lize leaned against the wall and gazed blankly at Eugene’s back.

‘You are indeed the one who will save this country. No, this world!’

The most severe fanatic was right under his nose.


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