Ch.350Trotsky Fries Chicken Well

# Japanese Soviet Republic

Trotsky’s operation had completely failed.

The so-called hero of Japan instead began sending troops to protect the Kanto Republic, helping the Americans.

It was a war they would lose anyway, but wasn’t it collapsing too easily?

Trotsky sighed as he watched the American air force flying in the distance.

“Should I really start thinking about the end now?”

“You need to make a decision.”

It was already a miracle that they had made it this far.

Yes, a decision. Now only mutual destruction remained.

If he fought to the death and became a martyr for the proletarian revolution, at least he would remain in the hearts of workers worldwide.

“A decision, eh? Yes. We’ve already died several times over.”

They were already living on borrowed time.

Dying once more wouldn’t change anything.

Though he owed his life to the Grand Duchess, if he was just a puppet in her palm, shouldn’t he at least spite her?

In the red holy war, Trotsky prepared for death.

Just then.

“Supreme Leader Comrade. Someone delivered this.”

A comrade on defense duty brought a letter.

“An old friend. Who sent this?”

A letter from Stalin—how could he have sent it in this situation?

“It was a foreigner, sir.”

No doubt the Tsar was behind this. That meant the Tsar’s shadow had already spread throughout Eastern Japan.

Stalin, at his age, would prioritize his own safety over revolution.

Yet somehow, if this was the end, he felt he should read it.

It wasn’t just about Trotsky anymore.

It wasn’t just him—there were comrades fighting together in Japan.

So he read through the delivered letter.

[Listen, Trotsky. Much time has passed. While I was in the camps and you traveled the world for revolution, mountains and fields, rivers and seas have changed, and countless wars have been fought. Yet nowhere in the world does a nation born of revolution exist. Italy is a communist state in name only, with a red sign for Rome’s reconstruction, and Germany started a war after losing in system competition. Though our revolution appears to have failed, we haven’t failed. We simply didn’t seize power. Those colonial empires have recognized their mistakes and now established various systems for workers. The current Tsar is a prime example—our revolution became the axis that changed the world. So why not stop the bloodshed now? I know some Bolsheviks, so I’ll try to get you out somehow. You might not like it, but you have another revolution left.]

This was nothing but Stalin’s emotional manipulation.

Another revolution remaining?

What nonsense is this?

Another revolution? Where am I supposed to start a revolution? Should I go to the North or South Pole and start one?

“So in the end, you’re telling me to kneel to survive!”

“Supreme Leader Comrade. I don’t know who this comrade is, but please accept it.”

Tokuda Kyuichi immediately urged him to accept.

Unfortunately, the Japanese Communist Party knew nothing about Stalin.

But was he supposed to just trust a letter?

“Comrade Secretary Tokuda, what are you saying?”

“It was already a miracle that we made it this far. Please remember our revolution. We are satisfied with that.”

Tokuda Kyuichi, with tears that didn’t suit a communist, tried hard to send Trotsky away.

There really wasn’t much time left.

In a day or two, this Soviet Republic—no, it could hardly be called Soviet since they only controlled what amounted to a single village—would certainly be destroyed within days.

If that was the case, they needed to save at least one person.

At least, that’s what Tokuda Kyuichi decided.

“Satisfied with that? What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you say the revolution isn’t over yet? Please carry on our will.”

What was he saying? Was he telling him to escape alone?

Trotsky couldn’t accept this reality.

He had already lost so many comrades in America.

“Comrade! No. I can’t lose you too!”

“Comrade. Someone must survive to tell them our revolution was noble, that it was a struggle against those imperialists. Shouldn’t there be someone to convey that? Quickly, escort the Supreme Leader Comrade! If Balhae could smuggle weapons, they can smuggle a person!”

Tokuda Kyuichi decided to send some subordinates with him.

“Yes!”

And so Trotsky headed to Balhae with the Japanese comrades Kyuichi had assigned to him.

Since Trotsky’s presence was unknown except to the Japanese Communist Party like Tokuda Kyuichi, he was able to safely smuggle into Balhae as a foreigner with the help of the Okhrana dispatched by Beria.

And then, with the help of collaborators (Okhrana) in Balhae, they began frying chicken for some reason.

Sizzle!

“Is this what they meant by help? They want me to fry chicken here in the Far East?”

Does that make any sense?

Frying chicken in the Far East!

“Calm down, comrade. You need to fry one more. Don’t you see that Korean guy clamoring for fried chicken?”

“Hey, Mr. Lee! Fry me another one quick!”

Damn it all. Trotsky bit his lip.

What a ridiculous situation, frying chicken in this cursed Far Eastern country. Nothing could be more absurd.

With a face that didn’t look remotely East Asian, he even took on the ridiculous name Lee Do-il. It seemed he was truly destined to bury his bones in chicken.

After about half a year, what he received from his collaborator as a “new revolution” was…

“You really want me to just fry chicken? What nonsense is this!”

It was indeed chicken.

Ridiculous as it was, this was reality.

And the collaborator talking about a new revolution was none other than the Tsar’s subordinate.

“What revolution is left besides chicken? Realistically, there’s nowhere in the world to start a revolution now. Even the Japanese revolution was forced, if we’re being honest. Times have changed.”

“What is this nonsense?”

What kind of absurdity was this?

Was the Tsar, this foolish woman, seriously telling him to just fry chicken?

Would he listen to orders from an imperialist?

Say something that makes sense. Beyond orders, this was blasphemy, telling a revolutionary to fry chicken.

“Here are the documents for the new worker welfare law passed at the Rome Treaty. There are various benefits, including pension payments and special benefits for workers.”

Whatever they were doing at the Rome Treaty was none of his business.

“What are you trying to say?”

“Mr. Trotsky’s chicken is quite famous among workers.”

Because it provided meat, chicken had become a staple in workers’ basic diet.

Of course, it wasn’t chicken for every meal.

“Chicken.”

“Why not just make food for workers now?”

“You’re telling me to betray my Japanese comrades?”

Does the Grand Duchess dare give such an order?

Would he listen to such an absurd command?

Is the imperialist leader trying to extinguish the last flames of revolution?

“You’re welcome to join them. The Tsar said she’d prefer if your chicken spread far and wide. We will also persuade your comrades.”

Fortunately, unlike those baguette-wielding reds who wouldn’t hesitate to use nuclear weapons, the Japanese Communist Party wasn’t made up of complete lunatics.

Their fight to the end in the Japanese archipelago was primarily motivated by a desire for independence from America. Since the world was now dominated by the Tsar,

They planned to package it as “your revolution was great” and so on.

“How obsessed is the Grand Duchess with chicken?”

Honestly, Beria wondered about that too, but what could he do? He just went along with it, figuring it might be some future staple food or something.

Anyway, Beria’s message was simple.

“It’s better for the revolution to beautifully sacrifice itself at this point. If you force another revolution somewhere, communism will truly become something not worth associating with. Isn’t it enough that the proletarian revolution has given a warning to the world?”

“Ha.”

Be satisfied with having warned the world.

Though another proletarian revolution would be difficult,

“Even though we obtained your recipe, Mr. Trotsky’s chicken doesn’t taste the same without you. Therefore, the Tsar wants to entrust a chicken company to you.”

A chicken company? Not even bourgeois, but this?

He should have killed that damned Grand Duchess when he had the chance.

No matter how ridiculous his current situation was, wasn’t this too much?

Who did they think Trotsky was, to make such an absurd request!

“So you really want me to bury my bones in chicken.”

Trotsky looked up at the sky and lamented.

That damn Grand Duchess. Really? Bury his bones in chicken?

If that had been his destiny, he would have remained as Leon, hiding his name and staying as a chicken shop owner in America.

“Mr. Trotsky. Stalin is very concerned about you. Because of people like you, the world has changed like this. Why not spend your later years working for the workers?”

“A comfortable retirement, you say.”

Was revolution all for nothing?

Is it truly impossible for a red revolution, a red state to rise in this world?

The world was already running too smoothly.

It was a world bewitched by something, with endless praise for the Tsar.

Even if they had introduced socialist policies, no one truly understood communism.

The Tsar had merely satisfied workers with socialist policies, turning them into sheep.

Yet, could one say this world was right?

“Does Stalin believe this world is right?”

“Wouldn’t he?”

“So just work for the workers now. Ha.”

Fry chicken for the workers.

At first glance, it was truly ridiculous and absurd.

It was a statement that severely underestimated the world.

“Mr. Trotsky. If this world eventually rots and collapses, someone will emerge to follow in your footsteps and achieve revolution. But at least for now, the world is moving forward under the Tsar’s rule, developing more than ever before, and voices praising the Tsar reach from the edge of Europe in Portugal to the Far East.”

From what Beria had learned, Portugal hadn’t fared well under its dictator, but much had changed after joining the Rome Treaty Organization.

It was an environment where praise for the Tsar was inevitable.

“Yes. That’s right.”

The whole world praised the Tsar.

Even in Japan in the Far East, they called Anastasia “Ana-chan” and were absolutely crazy about her.

“The point is that this isn’t the era for revolution. Revolution in this era would only leave good lessons. Wasn’t revolution originally born from the struggle to survive? Any further push for revolution would only be ambition for red power. You wouldn’t want to tarnish the legacy that began with Marx.”

That’s right. Forcing revolution beyond this point would make one nothing more than a petty person seeking power through revolution.

As much as he hated to admit it, he had to acknowledge it.

For the sake of the red flame that might rise again in the distant future, it was right for him to exit the stage at this point.

Convinced by Stalin’s letter and Beria’s words, Trotsky finally had to nod in agreement.

And so Sergei Lee’s chicken shop was established.

And the history of RFC (Roman Pride Chicken) began.

His influence was surprisingly powerful.

“Was that chicken so delicious?”

“Lee gave us the recipe for smoke-fried chicken before returning to Russia!”

“I tried the chicken those Kanto reds were eating, and it’s incredibly tasty.”

“I think this would sell well if we took it back to West Japan.”

It began to spread to the United States of Japan through the Balhae Federation where Trotsky had been hiding for months and the Japanese army that had assisted the US forces.

It was the beginning of the history of B-chicken and karaage.

* * *

News arrived that would have made the original historical Lenin faint.

Our Trotsky had accepted chicken!

He had finally embraced his chicken revolution like one of the chosen ones.

“So Trotsky finally accepted chicken.”

“And the Japanese revolution has ended.”

She nodded at Maria’s words.

With the central figure Trotsky gone and only Tokuda or whatever his name was left, it was perhaps inevitable.

It was actually miraculous they had held out this long.

With this, the Japanese revolution was over, and what remained was the problem.

Japanese imperial remnants, anarchists, Ana-chists, and so on.

“Most Ana-chists have either fled to Russia or flowed into West Japan, so it shouldn’t be difficult.”

They flowed into West Japan. That was expected.

The United States of Japan had Anastasia-ists in the Nationalist Party, which wasn’t bad.

It could even strengthen our distinguished Mutaguchi Renya.

“What about the Japanese imperial remnants?”

“The United States of Japan’s army is tasked with eliminating these imperial remnants. There are reportedly an exhausting number of them.”

Well, there did seem to be many.