The Primary Question
"The primary question of revolution is to distinguish clearly who is an enemy and who is a friend."
Once they had quieted down, Leo spoke in a low voice.
He could understand their indignation.
Honestly, at this stage, every Revolutionary Army officer sitting here had more or less a blood feud with the Marines.
They had survived countless bloody battles against the Marines to reach this point.
Their hatred for the Marines could no longer simply be called hatred. It was a fight to the death.
But even so, they still had to hear Leo explain this matter clearly.
"And when fighting a war, you must gather as many friends as possible and make as few enemies as possible."
"If you cannot tell who is an enemy and who is a friend, then the result will be like it is now—you and the Marines, your own people fighting your own people, constantly killing each other, wasting your strength, and draining the lifeblood of the revolution."
"Why are the Marines one of our own?" Leo slapped the blackboard, jolting everyone awake and drawing their full attention.
"Because the Marines are actually us, lost and confused."
"They are trapped within the situation and cannot see as clearly as we do."
"They have the narcotic of [justice] to numb themselves."
"They hide within that vague, intangible justice and deceive themselves into believing they are carrying out justice."
"But when justice clashes with their ideals—for example, when the Celestial Dragons seize and enslave ordinary people for no reason at all—what choice will they make?"
Leo's words plunged the church into silence. As members of the Revolutionary Army, they would certainly rush forward without hesitation and fight to the end. But for the Marines, who constantly spoke of justice, this was likely