The north wind is shouting, and the coldness of the middle of winter is invading from the cracks of the simple grass shed, constantly eroding the temperature in the room. In the dilapidated charcoal furnace, several sparks are still burning alone, but the meager heat it provides is simply unable to cope with the cold wind that is invading from all sides.

The Russian worker Kolev moved slightly and slowly climbed up from a piece of hay. The sky outside the window was still dark like darkness, so that almost nothing could be seen in the room. Although the cells in his body had a strong protest reaction that needed rest, Kolev could only use ice water to stimulate his nerves everywhere in the dark: it was time for him to prepare for work. If there was a moment of delay, the consequences would be serious that he could not afford!

In the darkness, Kolev's hands were fumbled skillfully in his shack; after a while, he held a cold and hard thing in the only complete drawer. Since the price of lamp oil and coal had already soared greatly under the hoarding of merchants, Kolev, who could only get a meager salary every month, could only do everything possible to reduce the expenses of daily life. Activity in the dark has become one of his life skills. At this moment, the hard stick he held in his hand that was enough to use as a rolling pin was nothing else, it was the worst black bread of 20 kobbi: there was only one way to eat it, that was to soak it in water, and then swallow this rough and bitter thing that was not like eating. If anyone wanted to force it to eat it, his end would definitely be broken off like eating an iron rod!

Before the war broke out, Kolev, who lived at the bottom, had eaten this kind of food a lot. But then there was no shortage of wood carbon. After proper heating, even the water was swallowed was a frown. However, now, he could not even enjoy this pitiful convenience. When the ice and snow melted completely under the heating of coal, he hurriedly blocked the fire to save fuel, and then reluctantly put the only black bread into a bowl. In the cold snow water, the toughness of the hard black bread was still like cowhide; when the taste buds on the tip of the tongue met this rough, moldy and evil food, the disgusting feeling could almost make people spit out everything in the stomach.

Kolev tore the tough black bread with his hands and teeth, and swallowed the cold snow water that gradually condensed again with big mouthfuls; the bitter cold that suddenly poured into his throat and the fury that ignited the heart, as if an invisible hand strangled his heart, so painful that he could hardly breathe.

Five years ago, 17-year-old Kolev left his hometown farmland for the first time and went to the Putilov factory in St. Petersburg to become an fitter. He could earn a fixed income of 5 rubles per month. In addition to daily expenses, he could also save nearly 2 rubles and send them back to his hometown to subsidize his family. Kolev's family far away in Chita's countryside was very pleased that he could find a stable job in the capital of the empire, and his childhood sweetheart Ye Lian

Na was also sending letters to him, exuding feelings to each other. Kolev had already decided. After he saved up enough to buy some land in his hometown, he quit his job and returned to his hometown, and spent the rest of his life with Yelena. After finishing his hard work during the day, he returned to his shack to savor his lover's letters and smiled foolishly in front of the dim oil lamp, it was indeed the most wonderful time in his life.

However, all of this was completely destroyed by the war that broke out in early May last year.

Since the second month of the war, the factory has greatly adjusted their work and rest in the name of defending the motherland. The daily working hours were extended from 10 hours to 11 hours, and another four hours of night shift was required on Sunday nights every week. Kolev, who was really fooled by the overwhelming patriotic dedication of the propaganda department, did not resist at all. He was even happy to be able to contribute to this imperial sacred war. However, soon, his world suddenly slipped into the abyss of collapse.

With the continuous defeat of the Russian team on the front line, the Tsarist government greatly increased the exploitation of domestic people to cope with the situation. Kolev's daily working hours soared to the current 14 hours, and the monthly rest time was only a short day; this painful work with almost no rest directly made Kolev on the brink of collapse both physically and mentally. A large number of government dogs like robbers filled the factory, taking a nap of fatigue while working, creating disabled goods, and imposing substantial wage cuts and inhumane beatings for workers who failed to complete the rated tasks: Kolev himself was hit by a heavy knee in his chest because he filed a nut's size by 2 mm, which made him unable to get up on the ground.

In addition, the prices of various daily necessities in the capital have also begun to grow rapidly since October. In the past, Kolev's salary could have some surplus in that month, but now it has become unsustainable to maintain the lowest livelihood. Black bread as hard as iron has become the only food that remains unchanged every day. Things such as salt and oil are even more unimaginable luxury. After a few months, Kolev's originally strong body has faded sharply. His cheeks were slightly sunken and his haggard face was as if he was over thirty years old. One day, when he dragged his extremely tired body back to the shack, he saw his figure reflected by the water on the roadside; for a moment, he could not recognize himself.

Compared to being driven and enslaved like a cow and horse, what made Kolev heartbroken was the accident in his family and the departure of his lover Yelena. His only brother was forced to join the army at the end of October, and a month later he turned into a corpse of a fat field in the Battle of Belarus. His father was crying and ill because he could not accept the bad news like a bolt from the blue. The farmer who had long coveted his own fields gathered more than a dozen hooligan thugs to take advantage of the situation. They forced their families to be extremely inferior.

The price of cabbage was sold for the house and land on which she survived, and her father, who was very kind to herself, never waited until the New Year bell rang. Yelena, who was originally deeply in love with her, was also rapidly alienated from herself under this sudden change, and she had no letters since then. There were rumors from fellow villagers that she was about to enter the marriage hall under the blessing of the priest, and the object was the only son of a fishery merchant, and the wealth she had was undoubtedly far higher than the income of her little fitter.

Five years of struggle turned into a bubble, and the perfect family became a silence. When young Kolev was locked in his room and cried for a night, the letters from Yelena, who had been cherished by him, were thrown into the charcoal furnace and turned into ashes. Outside the door, the first cry of the morning rooster came, and a new day had arrived. In tears, Kolev suddenly realized that he wanted not tears, but revenge. Since this Romanov dynasty caused his family to be destroyed and his heartbroken, he would let the regime completely overturn in a sea of ​​revolutionary fire, even if he sacrificed his life, he would not refuse!

"Koreov, what are you doing? Why don't you go to the factory to work?" A thumping sound suddenly sounded, and a urging voice came with a hint of concern. Kolev quickly swallowed the last large piece of softened black bread into his stomach and opened the door of his wooden shed. In the cold wind in the morning, a middle-aged worker with a beard was standing at the door. Seeing Kolev appear as usual, he showed a relieved smile on his kind face.

"Uncle Boris, thank you for your concern. I was stuck in my throat by a piece of black bread just now." Kolev looked respectful, and his words were full of respect from his heart. The middle-aged man in front of him was an old member of the same working group as him. When he was in trouble, he would always help him with some firewood and help him repair his shack. It was the only warmth he could feel after a major change at home.

Boris patted his shoulder and smiled and said, "It's fine. Let's go to work first. Don't make yourself too hard. If you need anything, please contact me. If I can help, I will do my best to help. After all, under the current circumstances, we workers have no other strength to rely on. We can only unite closely together to struggle for a life. You are right?" Korev said it.

In the dark early morning, hundreds of workers were walking silently on the suburbs of the city. The straw shed in Kolev was the slum where workers in the Puthilov factory lived in groups, so the up and down hours were all moving every day, as if they were migrating. When the light of the morning light had not yet risen from the east, the crowd rushed through the iron gate of a large factory and came to their workshop to carry out production operations. However, the situation today is a bit special. Dozens of supervisors holding sticks were already waiting in various branches. Amid the workers' strange eyes, the leading leader immediately said loudly:

"According to the spirit of the latest documents of the Home Secretary Matway, the factory leaders have decided to impose a war tax of 10% to 15% on the salary of all employees from today to support the jihadist cause of the Empire. I hope you can happily accept this opportunity to contribute to the Empire, because compared with the soldiers who died on the front line, you are already very lucky to live well until now!"

As soon as this was said, all the workers present showed a look of shock and anger. The current salary was too short to make ends meet, so how could they bear to collect another tax? A large amount of buzzing commotion occurred in the crowd. The supervisory officer made a gesture to everyone behind him, and dozens of gangsters with sticks in their hands immediately took a step forward, trying to use force to force the workers to submit; and at this moment, a roar of strike suddenly rang out, followed by hundreds of thousands of people's voices. (To be continued)

ps: Thank you to the book friend Zhouyu1976 for your reward~~~
Chapter completed!