[Chairman Chuan has come to power! ] 】

The curse, the terrible curse of the red ghost, hovers across the continent. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

It was like a spell that resounded across five continents and four oceans, and the sleeping giants were awakened by this whisper, the rushing streams converged into raging red waves, and a world-shaking tsunami swept through the free world.

Moscow, Red Square.

The soldiers standing guard at the Kremlin gate wiped their somewhat blurry eyes, thinking that they were hallucinating.

He saw a bearded man with a bald head identical to the portrait and sculpture, walking one after the other in the direction of the Kremlin gate. He was about to reach out to stop them, but was stopped by the figure that appeared next to him.

President Vladimir stood beside him and pressed down the muzzle of the gun that was ready to be raised.

"Put down your guns, my soldiers, don't mess around."

"They are the saviors of Russia."

The leaders of the Russian Empire gave a word of advice to the young soldiers.

"You did a good job, Comrade Vladimir."

Then Vladimir lowered his head and whispered, "This is what I should do." ”

The bearded man plucked the pipe from the corner of his mouth and looked at the red five-pointed star on the top floor of the Kremlin building.

Full of pride.

"Unbreakable Alliance, I'm back."

――Dividing Line――

Young students at the University of Berlin enjoy the solemn atmosphere in the library of the century-old university.

Very few people linger in the philosophical district anymore.

He was the only one who listened to the teachings of his philosophical forefathers.

Originally from Trier in the Rhineland-Palatinate province, he has seen the government's curry favor with shameless refugees. He once said that the welfare state does not represent socialism.

He also argued in class with university professors who taught classical philosophy that death did not belong to the working class.

He walked briskly past the rows and rows of heavy books that had accumulated over the years. He was not immersed in Hegel's dialectics, Feuerbach's materialism, or Kant's critique of pure reason. Instead, he looked at another area, the dusty books that had long since been crossed.

Capital

The Communist Manifesto

The red font stung his eyes.

Muttering.

"The ghosts, the ghosts that hovered the continent of Europe are not gone."

――Dividing Line――

He was a hero of the communist revolutionary movement in the Third World and a symbol of the left-wing movement in the West.

Cuba and South America once saw him as a representative of the rebellion against the old era.

And now?

South America has become a haven for drugs and crime, and the slums of Rio de Janeiro in Colombia are the masters of this dark continent, blood-sucking short-lived.

No one dares to resist their ****.

Those who shouted for justice are dead.

Or dismembered, drowned, the police only found stumps and fragments.

He stared at the land he once loved, for a long time, so long that he had forgotten, faith and soul.

His friend, Takenaka, appears in front of him once again and brings him a plan.

"First, the execution of the cancer of the bloc that oppressed the people of South America, leaving no one behind."

"Second, to overthrow the rule of an incompetent and corrupt bourgeois government."

"Third, welcome the red dawn of the new era."

Takenaka, who was once an RB Red Army, lit a cigarette and patted the other party's shoulder.

"It's time for our great revolution."