don't call me singer

Chapter 1953 There is always something that can give people courage

On the square in front of the parliament building, Adam Silanski, a farmer from northern Poland, was waving his own homemade flag and roaring loudly.

Adam Silansky is 63 years old. With his unkempt white hair and unkempt beard, he looks older than his real age.

The flag he was carrying was cut from his whitest T-shirt, a boxy flag with frayed edges.

On it is the badge of "Pegasus Horse Knight with Bright Moon in the Clouds" that he traced stroke by stroke with black paint.

He didn't copy this badge from the Internet, but he traced it from his family's ancestral armor.

Adam Silansky's life has been a failure.

When he was young, his wife ran away with someone.

Over the next three to forty years, he lost hearing in one ear, lost his land and farmland, and was left with a dilapidated country house as a shelter.

Over the years, he has worked in factories and been to big cities, but in the end he returned to his hometown. He makes a living by helping a nearby agritourism farm train horses and teaching tourists from Western European countries to ride horses. The evaluation of him is honest Adams base.

Even so, he was often bullied by a few idle gangsters nearby. Later, these gangsters joined a gang, and his life became more difficult.

I don't know how many times, these gangsters used his broken house as their own playground, and held parties in his dilapidated barn, leaving only a mess.

The night before, the men had been raging in his barn again, smashing the last good window.

When he took the broom to clean the glass, he saw a girl, stepping on the broken glass with her bare feet, squatting in his barn, crying against the corner.

He knew the girl, a girl from the farm next door, but he did nothing but pretended not to see it and walked away silently.

Half an hour later, when he went back, the girl had disappeared, leaving only blood-stained footprints extending outside the barn.

The young people were thrown on the stereo in the barn, and a particularly passionate tune was playing.

He looked at the footprints, listened to the tune, and remained silent.

After a long time, he picked up the half bottle of wine left by those young people and drank it down.

Then he spent a day feathering his beloved young Hooker horse, then opened the box in the barn, took out the rusted armor in the box, and put It was polished, polished, and worn.

This box used to be his obsession, and it was also his nightmare.

When he was very young, he heard from his grandfather that his family once owned a large piece of land nearby, owned the collapsed castle, served nobles living in distant fortresses, and fought throughout Europe.

But the glory of the past did not bring him the slightest halo.

He's not a brave man, he's just cowardly and incompetent honest Zilansky.

The rusty armor seemed to just prove his cowardice, and it could only rot like this armor.

But today, for some unknown reason, a force injected into his body, bringing him bravery.

So, on this day, when those gangsters opened the barn door again, what they saw was not a cleaned barn and a cowardly old man.

It was a knight riding on a horse, holding a lance, and preparing to charge.

That day, people from at least ten nearby farms saw the gangster who was showing off his power nearby, and even the police dared not mess with them. They were chased by a knight and cried for their father and mother.

In the evening of the same day, Silanski drove his broken truck, pulled his beloved Hukel horse, and arrived in Warsaw.

The truck and horses were stopped by the police when they entered Warsaw, but he came here anyway.

Silansky doesn't know what motivates him.

Is it Gu Xiaobai's music, is it the knight charging in the castle square, or is it just the badge of "Pegasus Horse Knight with Bright Moon in the Clouds" badge on his chest.

Or the rumors of the return of the "White Knights Tonight".

Is it courage, or mercy.

But John Duda knew.

John Duda is an employee of a game company.

As Poland's most well-known and most eye-catching high-tech industry, the game industry occupies a large part of Poland's GDP.

John Duda loves games, he loves history, he loves anything cool and interesting.

He had participated in the Polish Hussars Championships, though he hadn't even made it to the qualifiers.

He is writing a game script about hussars and is planning to make it a standalone game.

But his girlfriend didn't like it very much.

After giving him an ultimatum to choose these things or her, she disappeared, giving him three days.

When he was making a painful decision, a friend sent him a picture, but told him that she had already made a choice.

During these three days, she was with other people.

In fact, he knew, he always knew.

It's just that he chose to forgive.

This time, he still wanted to forgive, and even give up what he cherished.

Maybe if she gave up all of this, she would be willing to accept his love.

When he picked up his cell phone to make a phone call to apologize, a particularly passionate music came in through the crack of the door.

He stood there listening for more than ten minutes, his brain was running at high speed, and he didn't even know what he was thinking.

Then he quit his apartment, quit his job, blocked all social relations with her, and came here.

He knew that in this world, there must always be sacrifices.

You can't always want everything.

Even though he didn't have anything.

So what is there to be afraid of?
In this square, there are countless Adam Zilanskys and John Dudas who don't know why, or know why they are here.

They are only a minority among thousands of Poles, but they are shouting and roaring.

They want the world to change.

Even if it's not the kind of change the world is known for.

Although this way, it may be different from what anyone thinks.

As long as it changes, at least it won't get worse, worse.

At least we can become better versions of ourselves.

On the steps of the parliament building, Marek, the chairman of the State-owned Assets Committee, raised his head amidst the reporters' guns and short shots, and looked down.

A dense crowd, waving flags, ordinary people dressed as hussars, holding red and white flags waving with lances, and faces.

For some reason, what he saw didn't seem to be these people, but endless souls.

(End of this chapter)