← My Third Reich
Text
Read AloudReady

Chapter 626: Good People and Bad People

In the Ural Mountains, massive factory buildings stretched out one after another, their smokestacks rising one above the other, spewing plumes of dust and smoke as black as ink into the sky. This was the Soviet Union’s largest heavy industrial base. A continuous stream of the Soviet Union’s heavy weapons came from here. Cannons, tanks, and even aircraft were produced here and sent to the soldiers fighting on the front lines.

A group of ragged men carried sacks full of ore, forming a line from the train station to a distant storage depot. Their faces were covered in black stains that could no longer be washed out, and their calloused hands were proof that they did the hardest work every day.

Further in the distance were the production workshops. The workshops were built in an exceptionally simple manner, but the brick walls and roofs were still intact. The walls were freshly painted with white plaster, but due to the factory environment, they were already stained with some grease and dust. And inside the tall workshops were rows of machine tools from all over the world.

Workers were bent over, concentrating on using rapidly spinning grinding wheels to finish fixed raw parts. Every step here required fine manipulation. Without at least two years of practical experience, it was difficult to produce qualified parts with this equipment.

Most of the engines installed in Soviet tanks came from here, so this was considered one of the most important factories in the entire Soviet Union. Behind every middle-aged technician stood a group of apprentices. This was the Soviet Union’s method of expanding production, and the secret to how they could double their output in a single year.

The entire workshop was bustling with activity. At the far end of the workshop, opposite the main entrance, was a large platform. On the tall wall behind the platform hung portraits of Comrades Stalin and Lenin. A huge banner was stretched above the portraits, with a rousing slogan written in Russian: “Long live the great proletariat, send the best engines to the front!”

In the four corners of the workshop, huge loudspeakers were set up, broadcasting radio programs from Moscow. A sweet voice echoed throughout the workshop: “Comrades, for our brothers and comrades at the front, we will not rest at noon! We will not eat in the evening! We will not sleep at night! Produce more tanks to fight the enemy, the great Comrade Stalin will surely lead us to victory!”

“Work harder! Comrades! At noon, we will have potatoes and canned food from America! Everyone must finish this batch of engines in time for the battles at the front!” The broadcast from Moscow hadn’t stopped before the workshop’s internal broadcast also began to roar. The sounds from both sides came at the same time, feeling a bit noisy, but compared to the sound of grinding metal in the workshop, it wasn’t so annoying.

In a corner of the workshop, there was a large iron door. A sign hung above the door with the words “Factory Director’s Office” written on it. The door was covered in rivets and looked incredibly heavy.

The heavy iron door blocked out some of the noise from outside. The room inside, however, did not look like a factory director’s office, but rather the study of a standard European aristocrat. Not far from Vasilevsky’s desk stood a tasteful gramophone, which was currently playing a revolutionary song from the Soviet Union.

He wore glasses and was leisurely reading a newspaper. Although there was a faint smell of machine oil in the air here as well, it was paradise compared to the world outside. Ever since he had become the top agent under the “Beehive” network, he had successfully provided the German intelligence service with the design progress and production status of the T-34 and Stalin tanks, and had also gathered performance data on various Soviet tanks, becoming the number one spy for German intelligence on the Eastern Front.

With the secret support of the Germans, he had cultivated relationships with many powerful figures in the factories and the military by catering to their tastes, giving gifts, and offering bribes. In the end, he had not only survived the Great Purge but had also climbed to the powerful position of general factory director during this massive campaign of punishment. And his position was different from other factory directors; the wartime heavy industry system for tank engine production was under the direct jurisdiction of Moscow. It could be said that he held great power.

Most importantly, when he was at a small grassroots factory, Vasilevsky had brief contact with a young Khrushchev, and the two did not get along. They had even had a brief conflict when Akado was inspecting Soviet factories. Therefore, Vasilevsky did not fare well during the era when Khrushchev held absolute power.

But after Khrushchev retreated to Crimea, Vasilevsky, who had been at odds with him, suddenly became the “outstanding Bolshevik comrade” on Stalin’s lips. As a result, the leaders of the Great Purge, who had felt his old aristocratic background was problematic, all wisely shut their mouths and stopped causing trouble for him.

As the director of an engine factory, Vasilevsky was in charge of more than ten thousand workers, producing engines for armored cars, tanks, and automobiles. Due to the trust in his work, he was even appointed as the concurrent political commissar. In this factory, he could turn clouds into rain with a flip of his hand. A few days ago, he had personally exiled the entire family of several old workers who had questioned his orders to Siberia. In recent days, he had been feeling more and more refreshed.

Knock, knock, knock. Someone knocked on the iron door of the office. Because it was an iron door, the sound of knocking was accompanied by a faint vibration, which was somewhat unpleasant to hear. Vasilevsky, who was listening to music, frowned. Few people would disturb him during his quiet afternoon time.

In anything one does in the world, there will always be beneficiaries and victims. Vasilevsky knew that he was a victim of this Bolshevik revolution in the Soviet Union, and those who were originally suffering but were now his equals were the beneficiaries. He hated this society and hoped to destroy it with his own hands.

He now rarely asked for payment from the Germans. The gold bars and cash he received were either used to bribe officials to protect himself or were handed over to the Beehive network as operational funds. An intelligence agent like him was the most terrifying, because he had his own ideas and beliefs, and was often the most resolute and decisive in his actions. Unless captured, such a spy would continue to carry out his mission fanatically, doing his utmost to destroy everything he hated.

“Come in!” He closed the newspaper, his eyes like sharp blades as he looked at the young man who entered. His face was devoid of expression. He knew the young man who came in; he was the apprentice of an old lathe technician who had been sent to Siberia a few days ago. The young man had come several times, each time to plead for his master, hoping Vasilevsky would reconsider his master’s case and release the stubborn old man from Siberia.

“Comrade Director, this is the information I found. My master, Varlov, is a good man. He was even named an advanced worker by the old engine factory… He supported the revolution and the Bolsheviks!” After entering, the young man stood respectfully before Vasilevsky and placed some old papers and a medal on his clean and tidy desk.

The old, somewhat yellowed papers, the faded old photos, some letters expressing support for Comrade Lenin, and a production contribution medal proving its owner’s advanced skills… all these things were too old and out of place with the new desk and the exquisite lamp on it.

“Thank you very much for helping your master collect so much evidence,” Vasilevsky sneered from an angle others couldn’t see. He felt that those dirty things had practically ruined his new desk. But a moment later, he resumed his approachable expression, stood up, and walked over to the young man.

He feigned an offer for the young man to sit down. When the young man refused, he immediately dropped the polite pretense that would have soiled his sofa. He quickly changed the subject to something the young man cared more about: “From the current evidence, the punishment of the old lathe master, Varlov, was indeed rash and unfounded. I will immediately write a letter to Moscow and have them find a way to bring such an excellent worker back.”

Hearing Vasilevsky say this, the young man seemed to see a final glimmer of hope. He grabbed Vasilevsky’s clean hand with his own oil-stained one, so moved he was on the verge of tears. “Comrade Director, you are truly an upright man. I will produce qualified parts at a faster rate to repay you for your help and understanding!”

“Every country has good people and bad people, doesn’t it?” Vasilevsky said with a smile, forcing himself to temporarily forget the clean hand that was being held. The creases on his face were somewhat stiff.

After seeing the young worker out, Vasilevsky picked up the phone on his desk, asked for a certain number, and then spoke in a sinister tone: “Comrade, because of the handling of the rebellious element Varlov, who opposed Comrade Stalin, his apprentice has also shown hostility towards Comrade Stalin. Yes, the evidence is conclusive. He said to my face that I was Comrade Stalin’s running dog… Good, I will wait for your good news.”

Hanging up the phone, Vasilevsky gave a cold laugh, and with a rustle, he swept the old papers and the medal from his desk into the trash can. Then he wiped the desk over and over again with a cloth.

Yes, every country has good people and bad people. Vasilevsky thought fiercely: Since I have now fallen into being a bad person that even I detest, since you have destroyed my family and everything I had and made me a bad person! Then I will drag you all to hell with me! I will destroy this country with my own hands!

Published: 2025-09-12T04:01:24.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2026-01-28T16:35:46.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c626-good-138711785

Advance chapters at Nightjar Reads · nightjarreads.com