Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 985 Idealistic Murder and Betrayal (First Update)

"Latvinia must be thoroughly cleansed! The old bourgeoisie must all be hanged! They are beyond redemption, and I will not allow these flies to feast on the corpses of Latvinians and then have the chance to produce fat maggots!" Marek Koletsky continued pounding the table, causing the cups, maps, and chess pieces on it to tremble. "Friends, we are fighting for the future of Latvinia! How can those who have robbed countless Latvinians of their past deserve to enjoy that bright future! They must atone, thoroughly atone..."

His words resonated with many commanders, but not all echoed Marek Koletsky's views. Some of the more astute commanders glanced at Viktor von Dum, masked in the main seat, trying to glean his thoughts from the mask. However, their efforts were futile, for Viktor showed no expression (even if he did, they wouldn't have been able to see it), and made no move whatsoever. He didn't even bother to raise a finger in the face of Marek Koletsky's aggressive speech.

Each guerrilla unit had its own name, and these guerrillas, who were not highly educated, mostly drew inspiration from folk tales when choosing their names. For example, the Ivan guerrilla unit was named after the Russian folktale "Ivan the Fool." After Viktor von Dum and the Immortal City arrived, all those messy names were abolished, and they were replaced by the Latvian Mountain Legion's guerrilla unit stationed in a certain area. The remaining positions were reserved for the future Latvian regular army.

The incorporation of these guerrillas wasn't solely reliant on supplies transported from the Immortal City. Some of these so-called "guerrillas" were actually tools used by the local bourgeoisie to suppress other guerrilla groups and lure interested civilians into guerrilla warfare. These groups were all composed of private armies of local landowners—and now a small portion of them were also sitting in this tent. Viktor von Doom ruthlessly purged these "guerrillas," extracting the locations of local food and fuel warehouses from former commanders, and then forcing newly promoted commanders to raid those locations—all who opposed were executed, and no one dared to flee. They were forced to attack their former masters under the shadow of Viktor von Doom's terror.

Viktor von Doom ensured these men's obedience because their survival was solely due to his desire to keep them from dying. Upon returning to Latvia and encountering numerous partisans, Viktor immediately realized he needed a counterbalance to these short-sighted guerrillas—he couldn't simply kill them and then incorporate them in the same way. He needed to use them as a facade to attract civilians, then subtly seize leadership by instilling lofty ideals in the partisans through the teachings of the Immortal City preachers.

"...Give them back what they did to us, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth!" Marek Koletsky spat, his emotions running high as he decided the fate of the woman locked in a cage outside the tent. "Not just her, her family, her bloodsucking relatives, they must all be brought to justice!" He looked at the masked man on the main seat. "We don't need another master, we will be our own masters! We have the right to decide the fate of Latveria, everyone, everything!"

Anyone with half a brain could sense the shift in the wind within the tent; the invisible sword was pointing at the man seated at the head of the long table. Marek Koletsky's true target wasn't the woman, but Viktor von Dum, the representative of the Immortal City. However, the man at the eye of the storm merely waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away flies—his only gesture of the day—"Is this what you wanted to say, Marek Koletsky?" he said. "Is this your performance today?"

"You're nothing but aspiring to be another tyrant, no different from those people, Viktor von Dum!" Marek Koletsky approached him directly, and all the commanders along the way involuntarily made way. "Don't think that the guns and food you've sent can buy people's hearts... While they may have some effect, our cause is to overthrow those vampires, not to find a more benevolent master. Old Marek sees through your intentions; you want to be king, not one of us!"

Marek Koletsky was so close that Viktor von Doom could see his pores with the naked eye. Even so, Viktor von Doom remained unmoved.

"Do you really think that a bunch of illiterate people you lead can build up Latvia? Do you really think you understand how to wage economic, cultural, and espionage warfare? Do you really think you can face and defeat the soldiers of NATO countries? Do you really think that Latvians will live a good life if everyone gains power?"

"You know all this, but that's no excuse for you to ride roughshod over all of us!"

“You haven’t understood me, Marek Koletsky.” Viktor von Doom slowly rose from his seat. The dusty light bulb shone with all its might, but it still couldn’t illuminate the darkness behind him. “What I mean is, you and your guerrillas are only good for the war. You, you, and you… including you, Marek Koletsky, of course,” a steel-armored finger pointed at several guerrilla commanders in the tent. The standard uniforms of the Immortal City were dark gray, and with the cold weather, everyone wore crisp gray overcoats for warmth. Even so, the commanders pointed at couldn’t help but feel a chill run down their spines.

"Your purpose is to die, to nourish a new generation of Latvian. This new generation of Latvian has the passion, the ability, and the knowledge to face all that I have said, and they will allow for an even braver next generation to fight for a greater war. This is the cause of the Latvian; we fight for the human race, not just for petty revenge! Your generation fights on the ground, your next generation fights in the sky, and the generation after that will fight in space. The warrior's blood of the Latvian will continue to the end of this universe, not for you, not for me, but for all of us. What we must pass on is ideals, not shallow things like anger!"

"They will atone, but only according to law and justice." Viktor von Doom paused, then continued, "I admire you, Marek Koletsky; you are an idealist. Although I cannot agree with many of your ideas, I still admire your passion and courage, and the master of the Immortal City will also admire your ideals. But I'm sorry, the reality is that your ideals came too early; humanity cannot yet achieve such a rational way of life. I am willing to forgive you, as long as you continue to lead the army in battle and obey the orders of headquarters..."

"Pah! Forgive me!" Marek Koletzky spat menacingly onto Victor's breastplate. "I never need another master in my life! Never!"

Viktor von Dum remained silent for nearly twenty seconds, until the moth that had been drawn to the light bulb fell onto the map covered with chess pieces, its charred exoskeleton limbs looming over it. The sound of the insect flapping its wings and struggling, along with the heavy breathing of the others, filled the silent command tent.

The neighing of horses broke the silence from afar.

I'm sorry.

"What?" An immense pain surged from his back as cold steel pierced his body, relentlessly draining his life force. Each officer was equipped with a monomolecular combat knife forged in the Immortal City; a trained adult could easily pierce the human body with this dagger.

Marek Koletsky strained to look back, the dim light illuminating several familiar faces: Shervinsky, in charge of the artillery; Berezovsky, in charge of the infiltration squads; and Zhebrovsky, the recently joined infantry commander. Finally, he saw a weeping face—his sister's son, Pavel Koletsky.

"Are you involved too, Pavel?"

I made a historical reference, but I wonder if anyone can tell.

(End of this chapter)