I Became The Leader Of A Revolution In A Romance Fantasy

< Chapter 13: The Moon is the Merciless Queen of the Night – 2 >

Visenya Andrastra.

The original female lead, elected as a congressman!

Moreover, she took a seat that once belonged to our revolutionary party, and now it’s occupied by a key figure of the royalists.

How did she even win?

“Did she have some sort of hypnotic app?”

If not, it makes no sense!

Thinking that, the post-report that Ms. Lize brought was even more shocking.

“This is literally buying votes with money!”

Visenya Andrastra had, in essence, conducted a gold-based election. At this level, she must have poured in every last bit of her slush funds.

The problem was that all the methods she used were loopholes that we intentionally allowed by regulation because we intended to use them ourselves.

“…Prepare to propose an amendment.”

But now that it’s been exposed to the public, we can’t avoid revising the election laws.

We planned to use those tricks for a long time.

Damn.

“I can’t believe she found all of them.”

Visenya Andrastra.

Not only the last Princess Royal (First Princess) of the Andrastra dynasty but also the leader of the “Currency Committee,” the kingdom’s final significant achievement.

What this means is…

She wasn’t just a simple princess but an expert who ended the financial crisis that pushed the kingdom to the brink of ruin.

“But that was just a setting. Her portrayal in the story was so different, I was too careless.”

Ultimately, a character’s actions cannot surpass the intelligence of the narrator.

Conversely, it means it’s dangerous to guess the actions of Visenya Andrastra, freed from the restraints of the author’s intellect, based solely on the content of the story.

As I pressed my fingers against my throbbing temples,

Ms. Lize was watching me.

* * *

“Ah.”

That noble face crumpled with fatigue.

A prodigy of the era bearing the nation’s fate.

Moreover, a star meant to guide this world.

Lize Carter saw the anguish of a giant in the congressman’s face.

– How can I possibly guide these young lambs?

“Congressman.”

She bit her lip.

Lize thought.

Even a superhuman who holds great ideals firmly planted in reality can sometimes be mistaken.

They can inadvertently believe.

In the foolish, lazy, and corrupt populace.

The result is betrayal.

Despite the vision he selflessly dedicates to the nation, burning himself with no selfish desire,

the blind masses are enchanted by the Babylonian witch scattering the decadence of the old era.

“There is indeed a limit.”

The superhuman descended to this land on a white horse.

But he chose to dismount and walk alongside the people.

He didn’t trust humans.

“Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

“Isn’t it better for fools to discuss among themselves to avoid completely ruining everything?”

“Democracy is by no means the best system, but at least it guarantees the lesser evil.”

However.

Fools might need to discuss among themselves, but.

In our era, isn’t there a superhuman among us?

Why can’t we unite under his leadership and move toward a glorious future?

Why must the superhuman beg for votes while watching the whims of fools? And why, in the end, must he endure backstabbing slander?

It’s a waste of time and resources.

It’s a sin of the era.

A dark passion flickered like a flame in Lize Carter’s chest.

“The Republic is collapsing.”

This is just the beginning.

Although the congressman doesn’t directly “prophesy,” there are things you come to realize as you delve into what he instructs you to investigate.

This “Great Depression” isn’t just striking the Republic.

The entire continent, which was left in ruins by the war five years ago, is groaning in pain.

Even the victorious nations that couldn’t withstand the depression and are now collapsing are starting to boil with a very ominous heat.

A dreadful future is imminent.

A true disaster unseen by humanity.

When that time comes, no one will be able to reject the rule of the superhuman.

Not the Republic.

Not even the congressman himself.

Until that day comes, Lize Carter would merely obey his will.

“I will prepare the amendment.”

Lize bowed her head.

* * *

I brought Ms. Lize’s report home.

As I flipped through each page, I realized that this wasn’t just an election bought with money.

The driving forces behind the Red Dawn were primarily two things.

One was that this country had been burdened with the shackles of defeat after an unjustified war.

(While ominous news poured in from the front lines, Eugene Hastings became quickly famous as one of the few who produced nationalistic hero tales.)

And the second was, of course, the economy.

As a certain White House oral-sex enthusiast on Earth once said, the problem is always the economy.

The kingdom sank after being hit not once but twice by unprecedented economic crises.

First, the initial blow.

“My money! My money!”

“L-Look, damn it. My savings. Damn it.”

“Please, pay us by the hour instead of weekly! Damn it, my money becomes worthless paper overnight!”

The country, which had become a defeated nation, was engulfed in hyperinflation amidst panic, with predictions that it would soon collapse. This situation arose because the government itself had lost credibility. Simply put, the value of money plummeted in real-time, rendering a lifetime’s savings worthless and turning the value of labor into a joke.

However, there were people who seemed to reap infinite benefits in this situation.

“Heh heh heh, we’re all screwed.”

“No, but the nobles are fine, right?”

“What are you talking about? Money’s become trash, aren’t we all beggars? Is noble money any different?”

Real estate.

While the value of money had become worthless, the value of real estate fell relatively mildly. The gap was so vast that the nominal value skyrocketed by billions in an instant. Moreover, since commoners were legally barred from owning land under the kingdom’s law, the enormous benefits(?) exclusively belonged to the nobles.

“They started a war they couldn’t win, ruined the country, and it was us commoners who were dragged off to die or become disabled!”

“No matter how hard I worked, my family starved to death, yet that spoiled brat who does drugs and parties every day now has thirty billion times the wealth?”

Strictly speaking, the value of real estate also plummeted considerably, but the enraged people lacked both the economic knowledge and rationality to make such judgments.

At this time, Visenya Andrastra stepped forward.

“She organized and led the Monetary Committee. The dramatic recovery, still known today as ‘The Princess’s Miracle’. The hyperinflation that plagued the entire country was resolved in just two months.”

Already aiming for the position of chancellor despite being a princess, she demonstrated overwhelming administrative ability through this incident. So, while the anger towards the royal family and nobles still soared, Princess Visenya’s popularity was abnormally high.

However, even her popularity could not overshadow the second wave that struck.

The Great Depression that swept across the entire continent.

Not even Princess Visenya could find a solution to this.

* * *

“Sigh.”

I closed the report.

‘The citizens’ discontent is reaching dangerous levels.’

Two economic crises following one war.

The Red Revolution broke out due to the rage against the royal family, which had ruined the country twice in ten years.

The entire nation supported the revolution.

But now, one year later.

What has the new government proven?

“Hmm, no matter how I look at it, it seems like the revolutionary committee members and congressmen are just doing what the nobles used to do.”

“Goddamn it, how long are we going to have this shitty rationing? Revive the economy! Is your solution for everyone to starve to death together?!”

Of course, such public opinion was still in the minority. Especially those around me still received absolute support from the people. However, it was clear that this support was shaking from its foundation.

‘Unrest that has not yet surfaced. Visenya Andrastra saw right through it.’

She did not rely on nostalgia for the monarchy. It wasn’t simply about distributing money and stopping there. She had actually ended hyperinflation. Using that as her weapon, she crafted her image as an economic expert capable of ending the Great Depression. Her plans kept bothering me.

“12th Street.”

A pilot case showing her policy vision.

…It resembled my 3rd Street far too much.

I sipped my wine and tapped my temple.

‘How should I respond to this variable?’

Visenya Andrastra.

Her charisma as a politician was still a matter of speculation, but her competence was undoubtedly S-class. Putting aside our tangled past, I thought she could be a good card to play if used correctly.

‘However, all these assumptions are meaningless unless I know her exact stance towards me.’

As I pondered, the answer came to me. My confidant brought an invitation.

“Count!”

He spoke the kingdom’s, or rather the republic’s, language clumsily. Mixing his gestures flamboyantly, he was a rare sight in the republic—a black man in a suit. I didn’t bother to correct his address.

While Congressman Hastings should flinch at being called a count, when this friend called me “count,” it meant he had business with my other status.

“Jini. What’s the matter?”

“Jini, met the pigs! Got this!”

He handed over the invitation.

If such a character appeared in 21st century America, the director would be canceled for being a racist for depicting a ‘stuttering Black person.’

This was an invitation sent by the former aristocrats. Despite Congressman Hastings’ bill stripping them of their land and property, they managed to survive thanks to a foundation run by a mysterious figure.

(The notion that these aristocrats, swept by the tides of time, had fallen to such a pitiable state was slightly unsettling, leaving one to wonder who that mysterious benefactor spending such a vast amount under an alias could be.)

The invitation read as follows:

「Personal Invitation from the Count of Monte Cristo」

– Dear Benevolent Patron! It is because of you, a poet and philosopher, that the flower of justice blooms in this ruthless land… (omitted)… We invite His Excellency, the Count of Monte Cristo, to the congratulatory party for Her Highness, the Princess’s election as a member of Congress!

“Hmm.”

It was a ceremonially sent invitation.

It was addressed to the identity I often used when interacting with the nobility under my false identity as the Count of Monte Cristo.

As a wealthy foreign magnate shrouded in mystery, he had never once shown his face.

He merely ran a foundation to ensure the nobility wouldn’t starve to death. All communications were conducted solely through the slave, Jini.

‘But…’

“Jini.”

“Jini!”

This wasn’t some kind of PoXmon. I wished he would stop using his name as a rallying cry.

Anyway, I got up from my seat.

“Have a carriage ready at the ‘villa’ for that day.”

“Jini!”

It seemed the time had come for the Count of Monte Cristo to make an appearance. I cautioned Jini.

“Be careful not to get caught when you return. Eugene Hastings must not be associated with the Count of Monte Cristo.”

“Jini, won’t get caught! Can’t see in the night!”

“…Th-that’s right.”