Chapter 493

Rasputin said, "The Empress would have agreed if you had told me from the beginning that this man wouldn't even go to jail."

Is this legal?

The prince was puzzled by Rasputin's nonchalant attitude. This guy had eaten three pieces of cake and tea laced with cyanide, as well as four glasses of poisoned Wine, yet he was still acting as if nothing had happened.

"Can't,"

Rasputin said, "But I can just do that. I can use the money however I want, and the power however I want. Isn't that normal? Anyway, I'm old and ugly, and I'm useless. As long as I'm happy, that's all that matters."

That's not fair at all.

Upon hearing this, Rasputin answered quite decisively:

"There's no such thing as fairness. The only truly fair thing in the world is that we'll all die sooner or later... Okay, okay, what about the Lobster? I haven't had any at a time like this yet."

"... Wait a moment, I'll bring it up myself right away."

"Why not just call a servant?"

The prince ignored him, walked out on his own, took a gun from his accomplice, and went back to the basement.

"Where's the Lobster, Yusupov— "

You'd better look at the Cross and pray you survive.

With that sound, Prince Edward fired a shot into Rasputin's chest.

His accomplice then drove to Rasputin's apartment wearing Rasputin's coat and hat, trying to make it appear as if Rasputin had returned home that night. When the prince returned to the basement to make sure Rasputin was dead, Rasputin jumped up and attacked him, scaring the prince into fleeing upstairs to carefully observe the swaying Rasputin.

Struggle to the very end.

Struggle to die.

To die a gruesome and pathetic death, writhing and thrashing about, is a fitting end for a traitor like you!

Having made up his mind, the prince fired three shots at Rasputin, the last one hitting him in the forehead, causing the man to fall uncontrollably into the snow.

The middle-aged man's body was completely numb. He stretched his hand out to the sky, his eyes unable to distinguish between the flowing blood and his internal organs.

But.

A fire ignited deep within his abdomen. He recalled the scene when he was twelve years old, being whipped on horseback by a nobleman. Just like now, there was a faint fire burning within him, fueled by excessive drinking. As long as that fire remained, he would not give up the struggle.

Rasputin remembered his first visit to Saint Petersburg. The initial reason was an arrangement by the Eastern Orthodoxy Church. There were many people like him. Alexander Palace was never short of sorcerers and monsters. Those who did well became saints, prophets, heroes, and gods. Those who failed... well, they failed and were replaced by the next wave.

Countless wanderers, barefoot immortals, and holy prophets make occasional appearances in the inner court of the palace, such as the nasal-voiced foolish saint Mitya and the barefoot Matryona.

When Rasputin first met Nicholas II, he was struggling with how to convince the Tsar that he was truly capable. To be honest, he was confident in his abilities, but he felt he couldn't demonstrate them.

What are you doing here?

Suddenly, Rasputin, who was standing at the door of the children's room, saw a man dressed so plainly that his clothes were patched up. He assumed that the man was like himself, since in the palace, people dressed like that were probably poor like him.

"... Judging from your expression, don't tell anyone, but I'm actually thinking about how to gain His Majesty's trust."

"Haha, there are so many guys like you in the palace, but this is the first time I've met someone as direct as you."

The man laughed heartily, "Trust is simple, just do something special."

What do you mean by "special things"?

"Well, for example, you could say there might be a disaster in the children's room, and then you could just go and saw off the chain yourself, wouldn't that solve the problem?"

"Wow, impressive, brother! How come I didn't think of that? Looks like my scamming skills aren't good enough yet; I need to practice more."

Then, when Rasputin actually did it and was pulled by the delighted Empress to see the Tsar, he was dumbfounded, because the person who had made him do it was Nicholas II himself. This terrified him, and he trembled with fear that he would be ordered to be punished at any moment.

Unexpectedly, Nikolai sent Alexandra away to have a private conversation with Rasputin.

"I am terrified, Your Majesty, I—"

"Alright, alright, I've seen enough miracles coming and going in this palace. I'm used to it."

Nicholas II smiled. "I abhor intrigue and all hypocrisy and insincerity, but since I was the one who told you this, let it go. You can't cure Alexei's illness; you may leave."

Relieved Rasputin was eager to rush back to his hometown, but he hesitated as he stepped out.

Because he couldn't cure Aklesie's Hemophilia, but he could control the bleeding, he boldly suggested to Nikolai that he could indeed treat the Crown Prince's illness.

"You know, I've already told you, I abhor intrigue and all forms of hypocrisy and insincerity."

"You are the Tsar of Russia, born under God's watchful eye! Your Majesty, how could I dare to deceive you?"

In the end, Rasputin won his gamble.

He could be considered a third-rate Magecraft, but if he used Magecraft, it would be impossible for Romanov's Magecraft not to see through it. Therefore, his actual method was to control the prince's intake of Aspirin. Aspirin was widely used to relieve pain at the time, and it was not until the 1950s that it was known to be an anticoagulant.

From then on, Rasputin gained the absolute trust of the Tsar and Tsarina, for whom nothing was more important than their son.

Rasputin recalls that some people once accused him of abusing his power for personal gain.

Isn't this perfectly reasonable? I'm not some Saint, why wouldn't I take advantage of the benefits?

Rasputin recalled that it felt as if the whole world had been laughing at him.

Isn't this just common sense? After my parents and family are all dead, who will truly accept me from the bottom of their heart? In the end, without money and power, you are nothing; even a mad dog will bite you.

Humans are creatures that find happiness in stepping on others through various means, Rasputin doesn't think this statement is wrong.

He had already planned it out: if something really happened to the Tsar that day, he would run away as fast as he could, and go somewhere where no one knew him to live. After all, he was already used to lying.

But--

Upon seeing the Tsar, who, despite having few who feared him, loved to establish authority and often projected an air of authority that brooked no dissent, and upon witnessing his austere lifestyle and the profound trust his family placed in him, Rasputin found it difficult to maintain his initial impression.

"I feel that Rasputin, you've always been very sincere with us, hahaha, no wonder we all like you so much."

No, no, Your Majesty, it's just that the Empress and you are both too much of a homebody, so it's easy to see the changes in your emotions. Even though Stolypin showed Your Majesty information about three generations of my family, everyone would think that this swindler should be treated with caution.

Rasputin sighed inwardly, but said aloud, "For everything is in Will of God, Your Majesty."

Of course, he also knew that everything was based on his ability to 'cure' Aklesie, so he was very worried and fearful.

That was indeed the case, so, intending to live one day at a time, he began to drown his sorrows in alcohol and indulge in excessive eating and drinking.

"Oh shit,"

He sighed and said, "When will His Majesty and the Empress finally know the truth and give me a swift end to things!"

With keen insight, he surveyed his room and saw the truth for the first time: a luxurious bed borrowed from someone else, not his own; an ornate dressing table, whose clean mirror never reflected his image; a washstand, on which the basin, Towel, and soap were used by others morning and night; a chipped octagonal clock, heartlessly hurrying towards the inescapable invitation to the Imperial Family banquet—all of this was built on a lie that fueled his constant anxiety.

His Majesty said he "hates intrigue and all hypocritical and insincere behavior," yet I, who enjoy his deep trust, have committed the greatest intrigue and the most hypocritical acts. If only he had treated me a little worse, I would feel that it would be alright to run away.

It wasn't until he learned that the Emperor would die and Romanov would perish that Rasputin sincerely begged Novia to let him die in exchange for the survival of Nikolai's family. No matter what, as long as they were alive, that would be enough.

After all, this family is incredibly stupid and foolish. But in the end, His Majesty hasn't committed any major faults. He's just a little willful, has some personal preferences, is somewhat arrogant and self-righteous, and has a foolishly stubborn streak. He insisted on marrying the woman he fell in love with at first sight, and then remained devoted and trusting towards that wife whose personality was almost identical to his own. That woman was also incredibly stupid. If His Majesty were any more capable, he wouldn't have acted this way.

He loved his parents, his siblings, his children, he loved reading, he loved working—everything about him seemed no different from that of an ordinary Russia. It seemed he was just unlucky—but what could he do? His Majesty was the Tsar of Russia, and he was the one most responsible for the outcome.

What a load of rubbish, Romanov! What Supreme Being Tsar! They're just a bunch of idiots.

The only hope is that, no longer His Majesty Romanov and his family, these fools can continue to live in this world full of lies.

And so, the hand that was thought to be unable to move began to move, and the eyes that were thought to be unable to see slowly opened.

Rasputin stood up amidst the prince's shocked gaze.

Of course, this is not a recovery; it may even be worse. As a third-rate Magecraft, he has simply misappropriated the energy that should have been used to prolong his life.

So what?

Neither the weapon nor the human being can shake the man's chosen way of existence in the slightest.

He walked on like that in the rainy, snowy night, limping toward the Grass Market Square, the snow on the ground covered with blood from his chest and forehead.

This might be a miracle.

But Rasputin ultimately failed to reach the Grass Market Square to see Novia. After walking for eight minutes, he collapsed heavily to the ground, unable to control himself. The prince, who was following closely behind, hit him hard on the temple with a dumbbell, as if afraid he would get up again. After smashing half of his face beyond recognition, he threw him into an ice hole in the Neva River not far away.

In the end, the man who had fallen into the icy river smiled as he looked at the blurry silver figure on the lake's surface.

Rasputin reached out his hand as if trying to catch a flying insect, but then suddenly stopped and let it fall to the ground.

He prayed so earnestly-

My lord, I am already dead, so His Majesty and his family should live. I beg you to make this unfair deal. I really beg you.

Rasputin's death brought jubilation to the Russia people, who hoped that Nikolai might regain his senses and agree to a compromise with the conservatives and liberals in the Duma.

But in fact, this assassination attempt, just like the one that had previously targeted Stolypin in front of him, only made Nikolai more determined in his own opinion.

The longer the war lasted, the more people died on the battlefield, and the more the hospitals were filled with wounded and dead. Even schools were vacated to house wounded soldiers. But how far removed were the nobles and wealthy people living in Saint Petersburg from the war? The war seemed to have nothing to do with them.

The ladies in the theater were still dressed in their finest attire, adorned with jewels; their silk gowns still exuded the scent of Paris perfume; and the medals and sashes on the men's uniforms still gleamed.

This decadent and extravagant state of affairs resembled the last gasp of the Russia Empire, like a Giants exhaling its final breath, awaiting Fate inevitable collapse.

And so, on February 23, 1917, what people had secretly predicted finally happened:

That day, a very long procession of women marched through the streets of Saint Petersburg, chanting. "We want bread, not war! We want peace!"

The February Revolution thus broke out.

Two weeks after the incident, Alexeyev, the top military leader of the Supreme Command, concluded that Nikolai's time had come and he should step down from the throne.

On March 15, 1917, Alexeyev sent a series of telegrams to Nikolai in Pskov, emphasizing that he and his commanders believed that Nikolai needed to abdicate. He had previously tried to persuade the Tsar to cooperate with the Duma in a mild manner, but now he believed that the Tsar had no other way out but to agree to relinquish the throne.

Nicholas II did not struggle; he was not angry or embarrassed, but rather agreed quite naturally.

Some of the soldiers who were with him also tried to persuade him.

"Trust me, Your Majesty."

The soldier told the Tsar, "We can only preserve our authority and lives by paying the price with the blood of our enemies."

"In the end, I'm the one who's wrong."

Nikolai sighed and said, "They only want to survive, that's the tangible thing right in front of them, while I'm groping in my dreams, seeking something that doesn't even exist. The pact God gave to Russia and me has ended."

That evening, while having dinner in the dining car, Nikolai very tactfully said to Ruzsky, the White-Haired Goddess commander-in-chief of the Northern Front:

"Now we should ask the victors for forgiveness."

Nikolai believed it was all over. Without any resistance, the Russia emperor abdicated the throne, passing it on to his brother Mikhail instead of his son Alexei, because he wanted to spend a few more years with his son.

This man, who had been striving to regain his dictatorial power since the 1905-1906 revolution, has now been reduced to an ordinary citizen.

After months of deliberation, the provisional government moved it from Tsar Village to Tobolsk in Siberia.

Then, the October Revolution broke out.

The Nikolai family was arrested again and imprisoned at the Ipatiev House in Yekaterinburg. Yekaterinburg was chosen because it was a city where Bolshevism very active, and the Bolsheviks had never established a solid political base in the area. The Moscow authorities intended to wait until everything was ready before holding a public trial for the Tsar's family.

As the civil war intensified, no one expected that the raging flames of war raging in the Urals and gradually approaching would make Yekaterinburg one of the main military fronts. However, the Moscow authorities still hoped to hold a public trial for the Tsar. But because the military situation in Moscow and Yekaterinburg was too bad, and the Tsar was very likely to be rescued by the White Army, the Yekaterinburg leadership decided to execute the Tsar and his family on their own initiative, and only afterward would they prepare to inform the Moscow authorities.

In the very last moment.

The Tsar were killed like dogs; their bodies were destroyed by dousing them with sulfuric acid and gasoline; the remaining bone fragments were buried in an abandoned Cave; fire and acid would take effect in the mines; brushes and detergents would remove the traces from the Ipatiev residence.

The Romanov family, still in Imprisonment, had disappeared into the darkness of the night.

The Romanov Imperial Family came to an end, and the Russia Empire came to a close.

The decaying Giants fell in cold and hunger, but her children emerged from winter and ignited the fire in the world.

Alexei was fishing, though he wasn't called Alexei anymore; he had changed his name.

Even his former princely appearance was gone. Now he had dark skin, was barefoot, and his trousers were rolled up to his thighs. Beside him was a rusty iron can filled with earthworms, making him look like an ordinary commoner.

"Well."

He sighed. His father was always arguing with people about whether the Tsar was alive Tsar dead. Every time, he would insist on saying, "Back in Siberia, I worked as a miner for His Majesty the Tsar. Otherwise, I wouldn't have developed such excellent mining skills. I'm also very good at cutting down trees. Don't talk nonsense if you don't understand." He could say such things, but unfortunately, he was always the first to lose when drinking Vodka.

My own mother is terrible at doing laundry and cooking for others; people who don't know her might think she's some rich young lady. But she's the one who's most fiercely protective of my father.

As for my sisters, the eldest became Teacher, the second a nurse, and the third went against our father's wishes to join the Bolsheviks, infuriating him. The fourth sister, however, is quite successful; apparently, she's been sponsored to study at a university in England. My mother constantly talks about how she can take me to England to live a good life, while my father argues that Russia is good enough. But whenever my mother looks at her, she deflates like a punctured balloon. Actually, she also dislikes going to England, especially to rich people.

After failing to catch any fish for half a day, Alexei angrily cursed:

"Can you even catch fish in this godforsaken place? That bastard Ostrovsky must have been lying to me! No wonder he stood Dove up today! I hope I don't catch him... But I hope he's not in any trouble."

Ostrovsky was a friend of his, and the two became fast friends upon meeting. Even now, they work together as kitchen helpers in the train station canteen.

However, just as he turned around to leave, he saw a strange girl, which made Alexei's hand holding the fishing rod tremble slightly. He continued fishing, and soon ripples spread across the calm water.

Then came the girl's anxious voice. "It bit the hook, it bit the hook..."