The Turmoil

May's wind swept into Bulgaria, filling the land with smiling faces and brilliant flowers. With the hand of hope, it knocked upon the sleeping sky, blowing away the decay and the stench, bringing clarity.

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, four months had passed. Time was the best medicine. The pain brought by the Bloody Christmas Eve had gradually faded from people's lives.

Bulgaria began to slowly regain its former calm, and Sofia had long since lifted martial law. With large numbers of opposition members arrested, the provinces had also become tranquil, and the government had begun to relax its oversight of the public.

On May 4, 1889, a loud BOOM shattered Sofia's usual tranquility.

The opposition, silent for a long time, launched a massive counterattack against the government.

This time was different from before. The mastermind was a radical, Vasil Radoslavov. The opposition had recruited dozens of volunteers—the greatest force they could muster at present!

Vasil chose to strike where the government was weakest, setting his sights on the families of government officials. Stam Bolov was shot at again; as prime minister, his family was naturally a prime target.

Eidelberg Elementary School stood in southeastern Sofia and was one of Bulgaria's finest elementary schools. Stam Bolov's eldest son, Will, studied there.

At noon, Eidelberg Elementary was on its lunch break when two unfamiliar men suddenly knocked down the gatekeeper and stormed onto the grounds. Covered in explosives, they rushed straight to Will's classroom and detonated the bombs.

More than ten people were killed on the spot, and over thirty were injured. Will was among the wounded. It was hard to say whether he was lucky or cursed.

People who heard the explosion rushed over and immediately began rescuing the victims. Perhaps because they knew who Will was, the school doctor treated him with all his might, and he clung to life.

But shrapnel had struck both his legs. To prevent infection, doctors were forced to amputate them. For a child barely ten years old, it was unimaginably cruel.

When Stam Bolov hurried to the scene and saw Will's horrific condition, his head gave a BANG. His heart burned with fury, and he wanted nothing more than to tear the culprit limb from limb!

Almost at the same time, the other high-ranking officials received terrible news. Interior Minister Jonas's wife, for instance, had been out shopping when a bomb suddenly struck her. She died on the spot.

A debt of blood must be repaid in blood. That was what they all thought.

Sofia's police officers were mobilized once more. They were all terrified, afraid of angering their superiors and losing their jobs.

That evening, an emergency cabinet meeting was called. Several men walked into the conference room with grim faces, while roars of anger could be heard from outside.

Stam's voice rose from a low murmur to a roar. His face flushed, then turned livid; his neck swelled as if it were about to burst, sweat beaded across his head, and his fists pounded the lectern with BANG, BANG, BANG.

He was beside himself with rage, but the other four were no better. They grumbled among themselves, fanning the flames of their fury.

Stam roared, "The police are a bunch of good-for-nothings! They actually let these terrorists into Sofia. I'm going to fire them all..."

Sowell said through clenched teeth, "Exactly! They must all be fired! And not only that—we should send them to prison! This is all because they neglected their duties!"

Michael ground his teeth and said, "We have to hit back hard! Round them all up and hang every last one!"

Jonas snarled, "That's not all. They dared to do this, so it's time we showed them what we're capable of! Do they really think we wouldn't dare kill?"

Stam glared and said viciously, "You're right! Most of their leaders are in our hands, aren't they? In that case, execute those leaders! Let them see that the government can kill, too!"

Vasil Radoslavov's plan had succeeded. The Stam Government's attention was entirely fixed on the opposition, and the subtle changes within the military went unnoticed!

But the consequences might have been beyond his expectations. He had gone too far in provoking them. The Stam Cabinet no longer cared about appearances, and the executioner's blade was already swinging down upon the opposition.

The police were now arresting people without regard for whether they lived or died. With Hoover's intelligence department assisting them, the police's fighting strength soared. Opposition members in hiding were rounded up one after another, and many who tried to flee were shot dead on the spot.

Vasil was secretly congratulating himself on how smoothly the operation had gone. Unfortunately, as a dangerous extremist, he was one of Hoover's top targets for elimination.

So the police came knocking. Vasil had no idea he had been exposed and opened the door without a care. Before he could say a word, a bullet came flying straight at him.

With a WHOOSH, the future Radoslavov movement was snuffed out in its cradle.

That's right—this was Ferdinand's plan to use one blade to kill another. The one carrying it out was, naturally, intelligence chief Hoover.

Over the past two years, Ferdinand's influence had spread into every walk of life in Bulgaria, with the police and the military naturally being prime targets.

Compared to the military, the Bulgarian police were like a sieve, riddled with holes. Whether by infiltration or by threats and bribery, Hoover had easily assembled a group of men.

The time had come to put them to work. Eliminating specific targets was only a minor task. Hoover's main targets were the landlords, capitalists, politicians, and extremists who had been arrested.

When Jonas returned to the Ministry of Interior, cups lay shattered on the floor and papers flew everywhere. After venting his anger, he summoned his subordinates and snarled, "The rebels have become this rampant, and you're all a bunch of good-for-nothings! Every day..." (Ten thousand words omitted.)

Perhaps he had worn himself out from cursing. Jonas said furiously, "Go to the prison right now and publicly execute the rebel leaders. Do you hear me?"

Everyone was startled. They were about to ask for the specific names, but when they saw Jonas's livid face, they swallowed their words.

After leaving the office, Paul Korchagin and the others were completely bewildered. "Execute the leaders"—who were the leaders? How were they defined? But they had lived under Jonas's shadow for so long that none of them dared ask.

Paul Korchagin asked, puzzled, "What should we do now? Does anyone know who the leaders are?"

The others all shook their heads to show they had no idea. Suddenly, Khali slapped his forehead and smiled. "I know. We should judge by their status, right? The higher their status, the more likely they are to be leaders! As for exactly how to define it, why not just leave it to the people below us?"

"And it won't matter if we get it wrong. If someone gets killed by mistake, that's their bad luck. We can always kill the ones who slip through the net later! I don't think the minister would mind even if they all died right now!"

The others caught on, and they exchanged smiles. Wasn't that right? Before, they had merely disagreed politically, so there was no need to resort to killing. But now, these people had personal grudges against their superiors. The minister hadn't said it outright—perhaps he wanted them to kill a few more!

There should be another update later. I'll post it tonight!

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