(3rd Update)

Just when Korotic was busy applying for political asylum and going to the United States to enjoy the free Miami sunshine, the hapless Comrade Yakovlev reported again and became the target of public criticism. The photographs presented in the newspaper this time are somewhat intriguing: Comrade Yakovlev, who was beaten by others, refused the help of the police and looked at each other with angry eyes, as if he was deliberately unkind.

The public opinion offensive launched by the official news media of the Soviet Union was even more terrifying than the public knowledge, and the story presented by the different order of the photographs was a different story. It seems that Yakovlev does not appreciate the government at all, and even has some reproach.

What the masses had in their minds was no longer something that he, Yakovlev, could guess, the only thing he knew was that he had become a laughing stock among the people, or a public enemy of the whole people who attracted hatred.

The Soviet Propaganda Department was methodically destroying his life, but Yakovlev was still helpless, and he did not even dare to go out into the streets, because once he walked out of the streets, people would point fingers at him, whispering that this was the editor-in-chief of the newspaper who had been besieged by the masses for supporting Prohibition last time.

With the exception of Yakovlev, the rest of the public were not much better. As the mouthpiece of the state, the Su Propaganda Department seems to have determined this group of people, and will not give up until they are ruined.

And the most difficult thing for Yakovlev to accept was Korotic's farewell, he had successfully obtained a ticket to open the door to the United States through political asylum, Korotich told Yakovlev about this the day before leaving, which made the latter feel betrayed.

When he saw him off at the airport, Yakovlev still couldn't forget Korotich's last words to him, he gave Yakovlev a hug, then patted him on the shoulder and whispered, "Get out of here, we are no match for the Soviet Union." ”

Yakovlev shook his head, idealistic since he understood that the Soviet purge was bent on dismantling this extreme regime and bringing true freedom and hope to the Russian people.

"Let's go, Korotic, and never come back after leaving here. I will continue to work on your unfinished business until the evil regime is completely dismantled by the efforts of all of us. ”

Yakovlev's obsession seemed to Korotich as a joke, freedom? Everyone knows that they are nothing more than the watchdogs of American public opinion to destroy the Soviets, where does so much idealism and romanticism come from. But Korotich couldn't bear to poke at this, just smiled at Yakovlev and waved goodbye.

A few days later, not unexpectedly, Yakovlev saw in the newspapers Korotic's misdeeds of receiving American aid, maliciously smearing and spreading rumors about the history of the Soviet Union, many of which had nothing to do with subversive regime, but were enough to make Korotich infamous. "Since the public intellectuals demand that the government must treat the people with integrity," the newspaper said, "how did they maliciously smear the history of the Soviets?" If your democracy, your freedom, is only unscrupulous to achieve ulterior goals, then please get out of this land and go to the West to be embarrassed, and one day we will be glad that the country's right to speak is not controlled by such a group of people. ”

"Damn the CPSU, it's simply an unreasonable devil!" Yakovlev threw the newspaper on the ground and stomped on it a few times, which reminded Yakovlev that the newspaper had previously publicized the orientation of a certain known homosexual, and that the report mocked this writer with a peculiar fetish in the most vicious tone at a time when the people were not tolerant of homosexuality to publish it. And this writer previously posted an article insulting the Soviet Red Army in the Great Patriotic War, accusing them of why they were not all killed by the Nazis.

Of course, the end result was that the writer jumped from the fifth floor and died on the spot. People always pay for everything they do, don't they?

This is the purpose of the Propaganda Department of the Soviet Union, since the public is unreasonable, then don't blame us for being unscrupulous, despicable and cruel.

Yakovlev lay in bed every day in a daze, watching the clock on the table pass by minute by minute and could not do anything, he had lost his job and the trust of the people, and he had nothing but the help of the Americans. But he knows very well that if he continues like this, even the Americans will turn away from him because he has lost his value.

"I've got to find something to do." Yakovlev sat up, holding his chin and thinking slowly.

At this time, there was a knock on the door of the quiet room, Yakovlev got out of bed, walked to the door, glanced at the cat's eye on the door, and found two strange men standing outside, he asked vigilantly, "Who is it?" ”

The person outside the door took out his ID and pointed it at the cat's eye, and said in a deep voice, "We are KGB people." ”

Will what should come always come? Yakovlev took a deep breath, he was ready to fall victim to the persecution of the Soviets, whether it was the Kazan psychiatric hospital or the so-called Novogulag, come on, let your blood awaken the demagogic population.

Yakovlev opened the door with a somewhat determined expression, and he said to the two gloomy-looking agents at the door, "Isn't it the crime of subverting state power?" I'll just go with you. ”

"You are mistaken, Comrade Yakovlev. We're not here to take you through an investigation. "The KGB officer explained.

Yakovlev almost thought that he had auditory hallucinations in his ears, and that the KGB people had come to the door in person, was it not because of the suppression of freedom of speech?

"As you can see, our Soviet Propaganda Department needs to hire some people who are familiar with the United States and the Western world to be the editors-in-chief of the newspapers under the Propaganda Department. One of them glanced at Yakovlev's messy room and said unhurriedly, "Of course, if you wish, the newspaper under the banner of the Propaganda Department will withdraw the accusations against the intellectuals and the public opinion offensive, and we will give you a better house to facilitate your work." ”

"Zhao'an? Become a minion of your violent machine? Dream on! Yakovlev said disdainfully.

"We don't need you to sing the praises of the Soviets, we just need you to report on things in the United States, well, especially the real negative news. Oh yes, and your friend Korotic has agreed to cooperate with us and use the excuse of political asylum to hide in the United States to gather negative news for us, and of course we paid him a very good amount. ”

The words of the KGB personnel fell like a bombshell in the heart of Yakovlev, double agent? Korodzich's face became blurred in Yakovlev's heart, and remembering his meaningful words when he left before, Yakovlev realized that Korovich was really willing to do anything for money.

On the one hand, he took the salary of the Americans, portrayed himself as a representative against Soviet persecution, and on the other hand, he secretly took the remuneration of the Soviets and sent all the negative news about the United States to Moscow. Yakovlev smiled bitterly, Korotic, my friend, you won, you won unlimitedly.

The bureau set up by the Propaganda Department of the Soviet Union was indeed clever, and it was so clever that Yakovlev felt that he was an out-and-out fool at this time.

"With all due respect, Comrade Yakovlev." The KGB, who has always been unreasonable, actually reasoned with Yakovlev, "You really think that your colleagues are fighting against totalitarian rule, you are wrong, they just want to get a sizable piece of the pie in the political game between the United States and the Soviet Union." Whether it is the Soviet Union or the United States, as long as they can give enough benefits, these people will use their fame among the masses to become the watchdogs of anyone's house. The ideals you hold to are nothing more than insignificant in the eyes of others, not even worth a ruble on the ground. ”

"Also, nearly half of the public intellectuals accepted our offer to report on the dark deeds of the United States for us, to expose the dark side of American society to the Soviet people. They don't really want democracy, they just use these means to gain more benefits. ”

"Don't talk about it!" Yakovlev interrupted the KGB personnel's ramblings, "Please stop talking! ”

When he found out that everyone was pretending to be stupid, only he was really stupid, and he just looked desperately like Yakovlev. The look of a broken spiritual pillar had only been seen by the agents in the prisoners held in the KGB's secret prisons.

"I will not promise you to be your accomplice, never." Yakovlev's tone was very calm, as if he had become unusually calm after a heart-rending pain.

Surkov had asked Yanayev what to do if these people did not accept our conditions and continued to be stubborn, and Yanayev's answer was very simple: to completely defeat the spiritual beliefs of these people, even if they were unwilling to devote themselves to the great construction of socialism, they would not be able to stir up the slightest storm.

"That's a pity, let's go first, take care, Comrade Yakovlev, the Soviets are with you." The two KGB personnel politely exited Yakovlev's room.

Yakovlev sat on the ground with some dejection, and the shattering of faith was tantamount to emptying one's soul. I think of all these years when I have been running around for so long for the freedom of the Soviet people, but in exchange for an idealistic deception.

Yakovlev opened the drawer, there was a revolver inside, he once imagined that one day the KGB people came to the door and he would use this pistol to shoot himself, but he did not expect that he picked up this money and collected money not for freedom and justice, but for the ideal of breaking the choice to die.

"To hell with all bullshit democracy, all hypocritical freedom! You are the same as totalitarianism! ”

After writing this short will on paper, Yakovlev picked up the loaded pistol, shoved the barrel into his mouth, took a deep breath and closed his eyes.