I Became Stalin?! - Chapter 173:
Chapter 173
“I am…”
The people fell silent.
“I am…”
What did he want to say?
The secretary-general repeated the first word several times. Then he burst into loud laughter.
“Damn it. My speech secretary must have written something good for me, but I can’t remember it because I’m old. Hahaha!”
Then he walked down from the podium and approached the place where the people who received the medals were sitting.
The guards were flustered and couldn’t stop him.
“How old are you? Where are you from?”
“Hahaha! You’re handsome. You must have been popular when you were in your hometown!”
“How did you get hurt? Where did you get injured?”
He swept through the soldiers, shaking hands, hugging, joking, and laughing.
He left the shocked high-ranking officials and the lower-ranking ones he liked behind and went back to the podium.
“Really, I’m so moved to see you all. I have a lot to say, but I can’t think of what to say, my heart is full.”
Every word he said was sincere. Even Nikolai, who had been lost in thought, listened attentively.
“…But well, that’s not important. The important thing is the people. The Soviet people and the proletarian people of the world. You only need to think about that. I too…”
He paused and looked at the hundreds of people who were looking at him with bright eyes. His voice was lively and energetic, unlike an old man.
He had worked tirelessly for a long time and seemed to have exhausted his life, but was there something burning inside him like a volcano? Nikolai thought he was like a volcano.
“I too will work for the people. The authority of the party, the authority of some high-ranking people, forget about that. Crush those who mistreat the people. I will guarantee your safety.
From now on, you are the owners of the Soviet Union. Whatever you need, whatever you suggest, whatever you want to improve, tell me.”
A loud applause erupted. One by one, they stood up and clapped. Soon, everyone was standing and clapping.
The secretary-general waved his hand as if he had enough and grabbed the microphone again.
“You are the owners of this country. I’m just a secretary. Now! Enjoy the victory!”
“Woahhhhhhh!!!”
The people were ecstatic. Nikolai also stood up and cheered.
The secretary-general smiled warmly and kindly and waved to the people. He shook hands with everyone who asked for it and soon disappeared behind the stage with the Politburo members.
“Soviet Union, hurrah! Hurrah! For victory and the future!”
“Haha… Do you like the people?”
“Yes! The secretary-general’s speech was amazing and touching. Of course, this was all recorded, so we can broadcast it again anytime for the people, for us.”
Beria followed me and flattered me. His round eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.
Of course, I knew that it wasn’t pure enthusiasm. Especially considering where we were going.
“Hahaha, good. Anyway… Congratulations to you too!”
“Thank you! Thank you!”
The other Politburo members looked nervous, but Beria licked my feet like a loyal dog.
Beria must have dreamed of this day.
“Soon… You’ll be a marshal! Hahahahaha!”
“It’s all thanks to Comrade Stalin! I will work more loyally in the future!”
If the previous huge hall was for the heroes of the Red Army, this time it was for Beria.
“But don’t feel too sorry. If people find out that you’re involved in nuclear weapons development and that’s why you’re promoted to marshal, they might doubt our nuclear development.”
“Is that possible? But you invited all my close people, so I don’t know how to repay this favor!”
I didn’t care about my favor, but Beria’s tongue was like it was greased.
It wasn’t a huge hall, but a much smaller room, but it was suitable for the ten or so people sitting there.
As expected, the giant NKVD agent opened the door for me, Beria, and a few others.
“Hmm… Very good… Svetlana?”
“Ah… Dad!”
Inside were Beria’s closest people. His wife Nina, his son Sergo, his old mother, and a few cronies.
But among them was a familiar face to me. It was ‘my’ daughter, Svetlana.
“Why are you here?”
“Ah… That…”
“Hahaha… Comrade secretary-general, that’s not it…”
Beria’s eyes started to roll as he saw my frown. Svetlana got up from the soft chair and walked towards me.
“Dad… That… I, um…”
“Go ahead. Tell me.”
“Sergo oppa said it was okay to come! Lavrentiy ajusshi said it was probably okay too…”
!!!
Sergo Beria, that is, Beria’s son, came to me with a sheepish smile on his handsome face. I remembered seeing him a few times before.
But Svetlana blushed and gently held his hand as he approached.
“…! You two…”
“Dad! I’m eighteen now. I can decide who I want to date, right?”
Svetlana’s voice rose sharply. Beria glanced at me nervously, seeing my displeased expression, but he didn’t dare to say anything.
He had hooked up with my daughter and made this happen, how could he have anything to say?
Anyway, that wasn’t the important thing right now. I grabbed the back of my neck, feeling stiff, and waved my hand.
“Fine, I get it. You’re grown up now. So… you handle your own business. Ahem… here’s the medal.”
“Comrade secretary-general! Thank you for your generosity!”
“Ahem, ahem. Young people can do that…”
Anyway, the Politburo members who followed me sat in the back row behind Beria’s family and cronies.
He was neat, but he understood the situation and looked at the soon-to-be-awarded marshal’s badge and rank with a drooling expression.
“Now… Lavrentiy Pavlovich Beria?”
“Yes!!! Comrade Stalin!”
“You have done a great service for the Soviet Union. From developing the nuclear bomb that ended the war… ah, and even finding the weakness of the FBI director in America! The Politburo and I are amazed by your competence!”
“Thank you! It was all thanks to Comrade Stalin’s guidance!”
Every time I read his achievements, Beria’s family and cronies clapped. Svetlana also looked at Sergo’s face and the front alternately, clapping with a happy face.
Of course, Zhukov and Borosilov, who sat in the back row, only smiled bitterly.
“But you also committed serious crimes. You executed and sent to the gulag countless people who had no suspicion of being spies…”
“Yes?”
“And you sold the information on the movement of the Soviet Union’s leader Semyon Budyonny to the vile fascists and made him die. I won’t list the crimes of rape, molestation, and blackmail that you committed. Do you admit to these charges?”
He was startled by the unexpected words, Beria’s eyes widened and he stuttered, not knowing what to do.
Did he think he could do that and not get caught?
Beria thought he had completely controlled the NKVD, but I had no intention of leaving that powerful organization entirely in his hands.
I had planted some informants inside who hoped to take his place and reported everything he did.
He must have been blinded by greed and thought he wouldn’t get caught for killing Budyonny… but there were no secrets in the world.
Otto Skorzeny, who was captured, confessed that he had received information from the Soviet Union, and after some investigation, it was proven to be true.
“Lenin would never have allowed this when he was alive…”
Bang! Bang! Bang! Several shots rang out. From both doors, dozens of fully armed Spetsnaz soldiers rushed in with their guns pointed at the people.
“Hands up! Hands up!”
“Kneel on the floor! Now!”
“Stalin… comrade…”
Beria, who had been shot several times in the leg, fell on the podium and writhed, grabbing my crotch.
“You were… too competent. If you were competent, you should have hidden your ambition, but a marshal’s rank…”
“How could I…”
“Hmm, actually, I could have given you a marshal’s rank… but did you think I wouldn’t know that you made Budyonny die like that?”
His eyes, which were gradually fading, opened wide again. How did you know that? He seemed to ask with his expression, and I couldn’t help but smile bitterly.
“Does that make any sense? On that vast battlefield? So I did a little investigation. You, your work was so sloppy… tsk tsk.”
Beria’s family and cronies were quickly subdued and tied up with ropes, with guns pointed at the back of their heads, kneeling on the floor.
He couldn’t regain his senses because of the pain and blood coming from his legs, and he writhed on the floor. I left him alone and came down from the podium.
“…Svetlana. If you’re an adult now, you should have known where to butt in and where not to.”
“Dad, what are you doing!”
“Do you want to hear what he did to try to take over the next generation of power in the Soviet Union? If you want to dirty your ears, listen.”
I had succeeded in eliminating Budyonny, who would have the highest honor in the military. I had fabricated a charge of collusion with the West to pin on Zhukov, and I had dug up personal corruption charges on the stiff Konev.
The moderate Vasilevsky was trying to turn his children into puppets. If he, who had seized the military police and was a former chief of staff, fought for power, it was clear who would win.
“You would have been one of his pawns. You are… even if you hate me, you’re still my daughter, aren’t you?”
“No, Sergo oppa is…”
“That’s not true!”
Sergo Beria, who was stunned by the unexpected situation, stared at his fallen father and then contradicted me.
“I… really…”
“Well, you might have. Of course, Beria, his informants looked through Svetlana’s diary and dug up what she liked and dreamed of. Isn’t that right?”
This time, Sergo stiffened. Svetlana, who was the only one not captured, clutched her diary notebook that she always carried around like a treasure.
Beria knew everything she wrote in that diary. Sergo and Svetlana might have liked each other, but they were just chess pieces.
He had taken over the military, and after Stalin’s son died, he had the ‘backing’ of being the only relative. It was obvious what he was aiming for.
Of course, the young couple didn’t believe it and only shed tears like chicken droppings.
“…Do you want to live?”
“…”
When I nodded, the NKVD insiders who were Beria’s cronies were dragged out one by one by the Spetsnaz. Borosilov, who had firmly taken control of them, showed no mercy in dealing with the NKVD high-ranking officials. They were too dangerous to keep alive.
Of course, they were not Beria’s family. His wife Nina was just a scientist at the Agricultural Institute, and the only benefit she got from Beria’s position was an occasional trip to the hot springs. Siergo, too, had the chance to get along well with Svetlana, but he was still a low-ranking officer.
“Just spare my family… Send them to Irkutsk. They’ll have to be watched for the rest of their lives, but at least…”
“For you! How much blood have I spilled for you!”
Beria clenched his teeth and screamed with his last strength. He no longer showed me any respect.
“Don’t you think you owe me something… when my blood is mixed with theirs?”
Bang! Bang! Jukov, who had climbed onto the podium, pulled out his pistol and shot Beria in the back of his head.
Blood splattered on his pants, but Jukov didn’t care. He wiped his dirty pants with his gun and looked down at the corpse with a cold gaze. He had grown up under Budenny as a cavalryman, and he probably had a special feeling for him.
But his lifelong mentor was assassinated by a conspiracy. In front of the corpse, he gritted his teeth.
“Svetlana, make your choice. The Kremlin will be a cozy place for you if you choose to stay quiet until I die. After I die… well, I don’t know what will happen.”
“…”
Svetlana bit her lip and glared at me, then bowed her head and shed tears as she looked at Siergo Beria again. Nina, his wife, and Marta, his mother, were half-fainted and couldn’t even hold their bodies.
“I’ll go.”
“If you go to Irkutsk, the intelligence agents will watch you for the rest of your life. You won’t be able to leave your house until you die. But still…”
“I’ll go! I’ll go! I said I’ll go!”
Svetlana snapped with red eyes. Siergo lifted his head and stared blankly at Svetlana.
Svetlana slowly walked over to him and hugged him, tied up with a rope.
“Siergo oppa… I’m sorry…”
“Svetlana…”
“I’ll pick the best place for you among the places I can go. Don’t treat them too harshly.”
As soon as my order fell, the Spetsnaz agents dragged, carried, and took away the remaining Beria’s family. A big agent brought a big bag and put Beria’s corpse in it and started to clean up the scene.
“Make the sign look like an accident. We lost our Soviet Union leader Beria comrade in a tragic plane crash while he was on vacation. That should do it…”
“I got it, Koba.”
Yang Gupeng, the head of the secret police.
The truth of his words was probably closer to this. The hunter’s feelings, who wanted to get rid of the dangerous hunting dog, but had to catch the rabbit first, were nervous and risky.
But now that he had dealt with the dangerous hunting dog… why didn’t he feel relieved?
She wasn’t my daughter. She wasn’t my child.
“I can’t be the tsar. We destroyed the tsar’s empire, and now you talk about succession of power! God… no, Lenin comrade, forgive me!”
“…Koba.”
“Beria wanted to be the next tsar himself. But we can’t create new nobles. You too, don’t think about passing anything on. Do you understand?”
Why did it sound like he was making excuses? Borosilov nodded silently. He probably nodded. No one should know that the man of steel could shed tears.
“For the people.”