Soviet of the Vampire World

"Yeglin, what should we do next?"

The tavern quickly quieted down as everyone waited for Yeglin's instructions. But before issuing any directives, Yeglin first turned to the Mud Society members and asked:

"Comrade Nalnier, how have the other factions in the United Front reacted to this news?"

"The Pshevik factions naturally support it wholeheartedly. But what surprised me was that most of the other Pralarshvik factions barely reacted—only our Mud Society, the Labor Alliance, and the Autumn Crows Party voiced clear opposition."

This report from Nalnier also caught Yeglin slightly off guard.

Among these three opposing factions, the Autumn Crows Party was a gang from the Old Port District, though their leader had a chivalrous reputation. Their understanding of revolution was tinged with underworld ethos, but their revolutionary will was relatively firm.

The Labor Alliance was the largest Pralarshvik faction in the United Front. Unlike other factions operating in the shadows, they had an official public presence.

"But I've heard there are major internal divisions within the Labor Alliance. Chairman Gorlon had to suppress dissent to cast their opposing vote."

As Nalnier continued sharing intelligence about the Labor Alliance, Yeglin began analyzing the situation:

First, the Autumn Crows Party could definitely be won over as allies—they just needed to convince their leader, Yelov.

But the Labor Alliance posed a much bigger problem.

According to current intelligence, 8 out of the Labor Alliance's 12 chairmen supported the United Front's order. While they had differing views on disarmament, they all agreed on first securing Kashrov's election as councilor.

"Ah..."

At this point, Nalnier sighed and explained somewhat dejectedly:

"There's no helping it. Kashrov may be no good, but he's the first human non-vampire to run for reserve councilor. Right now, the common folk of Wolfgrad are rallying behind him—many even hail him as a hero of the blood cattle class, pinning their hopes on his success."

The comrades from the Leman Marsh Guerrillas might not fully grasp this sentiment, but Nalnier, as a local resident of Wolfgrad, understood it all too well: Living in this soul-crushing metropolis, even the faintest glimmer of hope could rekindle life in numb hearts.

Kashrov, now a reserve councilor candidate, had become that glimmer.

Most people didn't have the energy to consider whether he would actually deliver on his promises—or even if he didn't, how much worse could things get anyway?

But what if?

What if Kashrov actually fulfilled his pledges? For the already desperate residents, that would be a godsend.

So even knowing the odds were slim, the impoverished masses would fervently support this hypocrite—because when drowning in despair, people clutch at straws, not reason...

This was the reality. After Yeglin's analysis, everyone finally grasped just how complex the situation was.

As the saying goes: You can never wake someone who's pretending to sleep.

Similarly, no matter how Chairman Gorlon of the Labor Alliance argued, he couldn't persuade the other chairmen. The Labor Alliance would eventually compromise with the Pralarshviks.

"Then won't that leave only us?"

This question came from Volov, captain of the Third Brigade of the Leman Marsh Guerrillas.

"Even with our guerrilla forces of just over 800, plus the Mud Society comrades, we barely surpass 1,000. Even counting the Autumn Crows Party, we wouldn't reach 2,000."

Trying to stage an uprising in this city of over 300,000 with just 2,000 people—the difficulty was obvious. The room fell silent, their quietude the best commentary on this dire situation.

Yet just as everyone was starting to lose heart, one man remained deep in thought.

After stroking his chin contemplatively for a long while, Yeglin suddenly asked:

"Comrade Nalnier, tell me—exactly what promises did Kashrov make to you all?"

The question surprised Nalnier. His first thought was that Yeglin might be considering defecting to the Psheviks—but the latter's resolute eyes told him otherwise.

"Kashrov only made three main promises." Nalnier cleared his throat:

"First, improve labor laws to require factory owners to sign employment contracts with all workers. Second, pledge to upgrade living conditions in slums—specifically building sewer systems in major impoverished districts. Third, promise to expand city guard patrols to reduce crime rates in poor areas."

These three campaign promises perfectly targeted the common people's greatest concerns:

The first addressed employment and treatment issues, the second living conditions, and the third public safety.

It showed Kashrov was a consummate politician—he knew exactly whose support he needed and tailored his promises to please the slum dwellers of the lower districts and Old Port.

"But this is precisely what makes him so dangerous. As a reserve councilor, he can actually make these claims."

Nalnier sighed heavily:

"No matter what we've promised about post-revolution benefits, to the common folk those are just unproven slogans. But Kashrov is already a reserve councilor—his words carry immediate credibility that ours lack."

"That's why most of the United Front now supports or tolerates his approach."

At first glance, Nalnier's explanation suggested an unsolvable dilemma.

The revolutionaries couldn't provide tangible proof of their promises, while the compromisers had already produced an actual councilor candidate.

But just as everyone was wallowing in frustration, Yeglin suddenly burst into laughter.

"Hahaha! This problem isn't so difficult after all!"

His laughter drew everyone's attention. Even the normally steady Old Koen asked:

"Yeglin, you have an idea?"

"Of course! And our dear Kashrov has conveniently provided the solution for us!"

Facing the puzzled expressions around him, Yeglin grinned mischievously:

"Kashrov promised better sanitation and security for the slums. So what happens if we deliver those improvements first?"