The first update

"We are an atheist class, so why should the first sentence of the opening chapter be related to ghosts?"

Wolfer, who was originally dissatisfied with Galyan, began to pick on him, "This sentence is simply terrible, we have to dissociate ourselves from the bourgeoisie's bad thoughts." ”

Before Garion could refute, the silent Marx suddenly broke out. Like a threatened hedgehog, it lit up with a sharp body.

"Shut up, Wolfer."

Marx, tired of the other party's chatter, interrupted him directly.

"If you don't want to hear it, get me off now."

Wolfer, who originally wanted to find fault, was stunned, he didn't expect that he would be reprimanded by his friend Marx, the two of them are close comrades-in-arms, comrades who fought together on the front line of the revolution, and now Marx actually quarreled with himself for a French writer.

Wolfer fell silent, an invisible crack in their friendship as he threw a resentful look at Garion, like a resentful woman who had been robbed of her beloved.

"The ghost, a communist specter, hovers the continent."

When Garion said this, Marx seemed to feel the whole world quiet, and the electric flash in his mind flashed through the sentences that were finally slowly combined into a complete sentence. His voice trembled slightly, ignoring the sulking Wolf, who took Garion's words and continued.

"For the sake of the holy encirclement of this spectre, all the powers of old Europe, the Pope and the Tsar, Metternich and Guizot, the radicals in France and the police in Germany, have united."

"What opposition party is not reviled as a communist by its enemies in power? What opposition party does not use the charge of communism to pay tribute to the more progressive opposition and its own reactionary enemies? Two conclusions can be drawn from this fact: communism has been recognized as a force by all the powers of Europe; ”

"It is time for the Communists to openly state their views, their aims, their intentions to the world, and to refute the myths about the spectre of communism with the Party's own manifesto."

To this end, the Communists of all countries met in London and drew up the following manifesto, which was published in English, French, German, Italian, Flemish, and Danish.

In an instant, the exhaustion of literature and thought that had plagued Marx for more than a week suddenly disappeared, and was replaced by a burst of ingenuity, like a key to open a locked door, which instantly gave him the inspiration for the manifesto.

"I thought about it, I thought about how to write this manifesto!"

Marx shook Gallian's hand excitedly, he had hesitated for a long time before, and had written countless manuscripts, but he didn't know how to write the crucial first sentence, and Garion's reminder was like an enlightenment.

On the gray beard was a pair of small but resolute eyes, glowing with radiant luster, as if at that moment, he had found immortal faith.

While the two were discussing, the carriage stopped at the door of St. Martin's Church, and one after another people entered the humble church. At this time, these delegates from half Europe did not realize that the convening of their conference would affect the countless revolutionaries who carried on the past and forged ahead for two centuries, and coagulated their blood on bullets for the sake of great faith.

Garion followed Marx into St. Martin's Hall, which was filled with delegates from all over Europe, as well as democrats. They were all full of faith and hope for the convening of this meeting.

A spark was born in the dark old world, and the revolutionaries used themselves as firewood, slowly turning the flame of revolution from a spark into a torch that can burn the prairie fire.

The delegates of the various countries sat down in their seats one after another, and Garion looked around, Bakunin, Proudhon, Mazhining, Weston, etc., almost all the radical revolutionaries, socialists and democrats in Europe gathered at this meeting, and he did not know whether some of them had come for the lofty idea of liberating the world.

From the noise before the start of the meeting to the silent listening of the whole hall, the representatives of the working class have truly stepped onto the stage of history.

However, those younger generations, those who grew up in the propaganda of the deeds of their revolutionary ancestors, those who firmly believed in great ideas, and those who were still willing to become firewood in the era of the decline of the spark, could not help but quietly reddened their eyes when they saw this scene of the historic beginning in front of them.

In the melting mood.

Excited by the birth of the Communist Manifesto at this moment.

Marx stood on the stage, he took a deep breath and looked around at the crowd. He had waited for more than twenty years for this moment, excited, delighted, and lost to the dust in his heart. He calmly said to everyone, "Before the meeting begins, I would like to ask a friend of mine to come up and say a few words about this historic meeting. His name may not be known, but his deeds live on. He is standing here today, as a member of the Democratic Revolutionary Party, as a member of us, and I want him to open the curtain on this meeting. ”

Marx made a gesture of please, inviting Garrian to the stage. Everyone else's eyes were focused on him.

Proudhon just felt that this face was a little familiar, but for a moment he couldn't remember who it was.

"Me?"

"Yes, my friend."

Marx said enthusiastically, "This honor belongs to you. ”

Galian was overwhelmed by the flood of applause from all sides, and he stood up in surprise, suddenly realizing that this was a glory given to him by Karl Marx.

I was able to give a speech at the first international congress, and I don't know how many red-eyed eyes I secretly looked at.

Garion took a deep breath and stood up and walked in the direction of the podium.

He walked past Bakunin, Proudhon, Ma Zhining, Weston and other veteran representatives, and stood on the podium in the face of everyone's envious eyes.

He didn't feel embarrassed, he looked at the sacred faith he revered, his eyes swept over everyone's faces, and he said in a calm voice, "Standing here today, I don't have too many words to say, and a long speech can't represent my indescribable mood at this time, and I guess everyone here is the same. After half a dark century of repression, executions and expulsions, we are finally able to stand here, all of us, and erupt into a roaring roar, a roar that belongs to the proletarians. ”

Garion paused for a moment, suppressed his emotions a little, and then suddenly spoke, sweeping the entire Church of St. Martin with the loudest voice!

"Proletarians of the world, unite."