Konstantin

Ferdinand had read plenty of articles dissecting human weaknesses in his previous life, and now he was putting what he'd learned into practice. It seemed to be working pretty well.

The teachers at the University of Bulgaria were now at their wits' end. They couldn't refuse, either. All they could do was console themselves that the price they were paying to oppose the tyranny of the dictatorial government and protect their friends was worth it.

Reading out their self-criticisms in front of the entire faculty and student body was certainly humiliating. But if it was for the sake of opposing the government's tyranny and protecting their friends, then even if word got out, everyone would give them a thumbs-up for their character! Decades later, it would be remembered as a fine story. They couldn't argue with the idea of sacrificing their interests for their reputation.

Though Chekhov had sounded so forceful just now, in truth he felt rather guilty, because he, too, had used his position to slip someone in.

That someone was none other than Konstantin Stoilov, the future leader of the People's Party and future prime minister of Bulgaria.

Not long ago, Konstantin Stoilov, who was wanted by the government, had sought refuge with his old classmate.

Bound by their friendship, Chekhov had taken him in. But worried that this might cause trouble, he had hidden him at the university, planning to recommend him to Ferdinand once things had blown over and thereby clear himself of any blame.

He hadn't expected this to happen, too. Chekhov didn't dare delay any longer. He knew the cabinet had gone mad, and if Konstantin Stoilov were caught, he would be as good as dead.

Since Christmas, more than a thousand people had been executed on the orders of the Stam Cabinet. That was also the main reason Chekhov had decided to leave the Liberal Party and throw in his lot with Ferdinand.

He had no hope for the Liberal Party's future. After weighing his options, he still thought Ferdinand had the greatest potential. Cabinets might change every few years, but a grand duke couldn't be replaced at will. Ferdinand had the advantage from the outset.

Now he had decided to have an honest talk with Konstantin. He recognized his old classmate's abilities.

But political figures were defined above all by their allegiance. If Konstantin was willing to stand with him, then there would be no problem. If not, Chekhov could only leave him to fend for himself.

Konstantin had been feeling very low lately. For his own safety, he had been stuck in a little storeroom for a long time, with food brought in only at night. The fact that he hadn't gone mad already showed how strong he was.

When he saw Chekhov arrive, Konstantin brightened, a note of expectation mixed in. He fired off a string of questions: "Chekhov, my friend, what brings you here? What's happening outside? Has the storm passed? It must be good news, right?"

Chekhov smiled faintly and teased him. "What are you thinking? Things outside are even more chaotic now! You know what happened on Christmas Eve, don't you? It's not going to blow over that easily. The police are busy rounding people up everywhere!"

Konstantin's face fell. He smiled bitterly and said, "Oh, God! When will this wretched life finally end? Chekhov, do you know, I spend every day cooped up in this miserable place with no one to talk to. I eat and sleep in here. Take a sniff—is there some kind of smell?"

Only now did Chekhov notice that Konstantin looked like a giant rat: unshaven, with his hair in disarray. A powerful stench filled the room.

"Oh, God! You've had it so rough! Let's go outside and talk. This place is awful!" Chekhov said sympathetically.

Konstantin was startled. He grabbed Chekhov by the shoulder and said, "God! What are you saying? I can go out? Didn't you say the police were looking for me? If I go out now..."

"Stop! Let go of me, you bastard! Do you have any idea how filthy you are?" Chekhov scolded.

Konstantin let go of Chekhov and said, "Sorry! I'm just so excited. You know I don't want to spend another moment in this miserable place! But can I really go out? If someone sees me, won't it get you in trouble?"

Chekhov walked out of the room, putting on an expression of utter grief. "Oh, God! Poor Konstantin. You must have gone stir-crazy in there. You've lost your mind!"

Konstantin dashed out of the room and took a deep breath of fresh air. Then he said angrily, "You bastard, Chekhov! Don't give me that nonsense. Tell me what's going on!"

Chekhov smiled. "All right! Since you've had such a hard time, I'll tell you. Starting today, the police are no longer allowed to enter the university, so you're safe for the time being!"

Konstantin asked excitedly, "Really? Tell me what happened while I was in there!"

Chekhov smiled. "This morning, the police illegally surrounded the university. The grand duke was so furious that he sent the palace guards to take control of it. So it's safe here now!"

Konstantin exclaimed, "Wonderful! I can finally leave this miserable place!"

With that, Konstantin let loose in the courtyard, running around and shouting like a madman! A short while later, having recovered, he walked over to Chekhov and said gratefully, "Thank you, my friend! I know you must have done a lot to make this happen! Really..."

"All right, we're friends, aren't we? You should take a bath and then get a good night's sleep. I still have things to do, so I'll be going now. I'll come see you in a few days!" Chekhov cut off Konstantin's words of gratitude.

After finishing his conversation with Konstantin, Chekhov knew the plan had worked. Unless he wanted to go back to living in hiding, he would never refuse.

Ferdinand, still at the palace, had no idea that Bulgaria's next prime minister was about to join him. Otherwise, he would have been in a much better mood.

"The Conservative Party, the Democratic Party—they're all a bunch of useless fools! It's bad enough that they can't beat the Liberal Party. They can't even manage to provoke them! It's been days, and there's still been no reaction!" Ferdinand thought gloomily.

In truth, Ferdinand had already made his preparations. He was just waiting for the Liberal Party and the Conservatives to start fighting, so he could eliminate every threat in Bulgaria in one fell swoop.

As a hardcore history buff, Ferdinand knew that every successful reform came amid a storm of blood and violence.

Having lived two lives, Ferdinand didn't want to get his hands dirty. Having lived through the internet age, he knew that even a stain on his record would earn him a torrent of abuse from people in later generations. Those self-appointed public intellectuals didn't care about the bigger picture.

So, for the sake of his reputation in life and after death, Ferdinand had allowed the Stam Cabinet to rule unchecked. Otherwise, he would have stepped in long ago.

Now that the moment had arrived, Ferdinand still had doubts. The lives of more than ten thousand people were at stake, after all, and he didn't know whether he should call it off.

"Your Highness, the fish has taken the bait!" Hoover hurried in and said.

"Mm, I know." The plan was complete. Ferdinand spoke calmly, neither excited nor distressed, as if he stood apart from the world and none of it had anything to do with him.