Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 101 Killing Putin 2
Three days later, at 64 Gorochovaya Street.

The broken glass on the first floor has been repaired, and the broken stairs have been patched up, but the dark red bloodstains on the corners of the walls, which have not been completely wiped clean, and the bullet casings on the walls still tell people that a fierce battle once took place here.

“I checked, it’s 7.92mm bullets. Those guys are using German-made weapons.”

"Four people died in total, all strangers, with no identification on them. The population of St. Petersburg is very chaotic right now, and even Okrina couldn't really ascertain their identities." (Okrina: a nickname for the Russian secret police)

The housekeeper entered the room and briefly recounted the findings of the day's investigation.

The priest in the black robe showed no surprise. "So, the investigation results should all be attributed to the so-called German spies?"

“It seems that way.” Lyudmila frowned as well.

In St. Petersburg today, German spies have become a universal dumping ground, into which any negative event can be dumped.

Food shortages were caused by German spies, soaring prices were also caused by German spies, and assassination attempts could also be the work of German spies.

German spies are absolutely wicked!

It was obvious that continuing the investigation would yield no results, so Qin Hao simply stopped asking.

The two people in the room fell silent for a moment.

Finally, Qin Hao spoke first, "Liu Da, I have something to ask of you, and only you can handle this."

Seeing the other person's serious expression, the housekeeper also stopped smiling.

“You will escort Mr. Mikhail and his wife to the countryside near Kiev. I have a few trustworthy soldiers with you.”

"You want me to leave?!" Lyudmila's eyes widened.

"It's only temporary. Little Liuda is too young right now, and it's not safe for him to stay here. You can come back after you drop them off."

“It’s very chaotic outside right now. To get to Kyiv safely, we need someone who is familiar with the surrounding area. You’re perfect for the job. I don’t trust anyone else to go.”

Sending young children to the countryside during times of turmoil is a common practice, and the housekeeper, out of affection for little Liuda, also believed it was the right thing to do.

But for some reason, she had a very uneasy feeling in her heart.

"Kyiv is very far from here, so during this time, you'll be all alone, won't you?"

“It’s alright, the Tsar will be back soon. I’ll be staying at the Winter Palace for a while, and if you’re quick, you might even be back in time for Christmas,” the man in the black robe said with a smile.

The priest in black robes gave a very good reason, and the housekeeper nodded slightly after thinking for a moment.

The convoy set off in the early morning, accompanied by several soldiers, and the housekeeper embarked on her journey to Kyiv.

As the carriage disappeared into the horizon, neither of them knew that their next meeting would be a long time from now.
-
Twenty days later, St. Petersburg’s first snow arrived as scheduled, but this time the city faced a far more complex crisis than the previous one, which was fuel crisis.

Because of the German blockade of the Baltic ports, coal could not be transported in time, and 70% of the city's buildings lacked heating. Between November and December, approximately 200 people froze to death every day in the slums.

The official bread ration dropped from 0.5 pounds per person to 0.3 pounds per person, prices soared, meat and eggs disappeared from the market, the rich survived by smuggling canned food, and the poor ate sawdust mixed with wheat bran as a substitute.

The workers' meager daily wage of one ruble was insufficient to support their families, leading to a massive strike of 5 workers at the Putilov factory. The secret police began a more forceful crackdown, arresting an average of over 100 people per day, and the local prisons were overcrowded.

The influx of migrants caused serious sanitation problems, and outbreaks of typhus began in some areas.

In an instant, this once glorious imperial capital became like a ghost town.

Amidst the wind and snow, the sound of axes chopping wood echoed through the residential areas of St. Petersburg, as desperate residents began dismantling their own furniture.

A worker braved the heavy snow to get home, his coat tucked tightly inside, revealing a bag of precious potatoes.

Suddenly, the worker slipped and fell heavily onto the road, the potatoes inside his clothes rolling out with a gurgling sound.

Ignoring the pain, he frantically tried to pick up the potatoes from the ground, only to find himself too weak to stand up.

Through his blurry vision, he felt someone slowly approaching him. At first, he thought someone was coming to steal his potatoes and struggled to resist, but he found that the person was just helping him to the clean eaves.

A piece of wheat cake, still warm from the person's body, was placed in his hand, and only then did the worker see the person's face.

It was a familiar face. "Father Pu, Pu, Pukin!?" The man was suddenly at a loss, never expecting to meet the "saint" that others had been talking about.

"You're tired and need to rest." A very calm voice came from beside him. The person handed the worker the potatoes and pancakes in their hand, and then draped a coat over the man's shoulders.

The worker was stunned, and only realized that he was wearing a priest's coat after the other person had walked away.

The man was on the verge of tears, but he forced himself to straighten his clothes and bowed deeply in the wind and snow.

The same thing happened in other neighborhoods. People said that the priest would pass through here every day to distribute his coat to the hungry and cold poor, while he himself ended up with only a thin undergarment.

In the distance, a crow landed on the roof of a house and occasionally pecked at its feathers, while someone under the eaves was watching the area with binoculars.

"If I had known that becoming a saint would require this much risk, I wouldn't have done it even if His Majesty himself had bestowed the title upon me," one of the men muttered, taking a bite of the pickled cucumber in his hand.

"You wish! If someone like you can be considered a saint, then we could all be patriarchs," a companion retorted, raising his hand to unscrew the cap and take a sip of wine to warm himself up.

"Honestly, why don't we take advantage of these opportunities to kill him? He's practically a sitting duck on this wide street."

"Idiot, shooting him in broad daylight, are you planning to cause another riot in the city?!" A colleague slapped the questioner on the head.

"If something happens here, I don't know what will happen to those officials, but the two of us will definitely be hanging high on the gallows."

"Then let's..."

"Just watch and see. Let the nobleman decide what to do."

At Yusupov Palace, the master had just received a report from his subordinates.

"This guy's doing that kind of thing again?" The prince frowned as he listened to his subordinate's report.

"Yes, he walks several blocks every day now, and comes back almost naked. His popularity among the people is growing, and I'm afraid that if this continues..."

"I'm afraid if he raises his voice again, the whole of St. Petersburg will be turned upside down," the prince said irritably.

"Yes, sir, that's exactly what I meant!" The subordinate bowed his head humbly.

"We can't let him continue," the prince muttered to himself.

"Sir, should we arrange for someone to try again...?"

"No, after the last incident, the other party should have become more alert. After all, His Majesty is in the Winter Palace, so it's not a suitable place to make a move."

Prince Yusupov paced back and forth twice, then at one point made a decision: "Go contact other trustworthy people. I'll lure him here, and then..."

"Find a way to kill him!!"

The subordinate was startled, then lowered his head and asked, "Sir, what excuse did you use to lure him here? He should be on guard after what happened last time."

"Hmm~" The prince pondered for a moment.

"Let's say that we, this group of people, are willing to share His Majesty's burdens and hope to organize a jewelry auction to raise funds to distribute to citizens in need."

Then the prince's face twisted into a grimace. "He wants to be a saint. Shouldn't we not refuse such a request? We just hope that he can really be resurrected in the future."

In the winter of 1915, Prince Yusupov proposed to hold a noble auction dinner at his residence, which was attended by prominent nobles, including the Tsar's younger brother Mikhail Alexandrovich Romanov.

The prince's wife, Irina, personally went to the Winter Palace to invite "Father Pukkin the Merciful" to the dinner.

After considering it, Father Putin suggested, "If the royal family can set an example, I can participate."

The following day, with the Tsar's consent, Empress Alexandra selected several Fabergé Easter eggs, which were originally intended for her, as auction items to express her support for the country.

On the eve of Christmas, Father Putin accepted the prince's invitation and went to the banquet alone.

At Yusupov Palace, Princess Irina took the pistol out of the box.

(End of this chapter)