1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 186 Honey and Poison

Land, education, faith.

Three massive foundation stones were firmly driven into Greek soil, the ancient ship was given a brand new engine, and the entire country burst forth with an unprecedented vitality.

Especially in the Thessaly Plain, where land reform was first completed, the changes are visible to the naked eye. The boundary markers of the former landlord manors have been torn down and replaced by neatly divided fields. Farmers' faces are filled with heartfelt smiles, and the work chants in the fields are much louder than before.

In this momentous transformation, a name, like a new star, rose to prominence in Greek politics.

Dmitri Gunaris.

This young official, promoted from the common people by Constantine, was entrusted with the important task of land allocation and the implementation of new policies throughout Thessaly. Energetic and capable, he could always explain complex legal provisions to the farmers in the simplest terms. He never stayed in his office; instead, he rolled up his trousers, waded through the mud, visited each household, personally measured the land, and mediated neighborhood disputes.

He could call out the name of every elderly person in the village, remembered which child was about to start school, and would even help the peasant women carry heavy sacks of wheat. The farmers affectionately called him "our Dmitri," regarding him as "one of their own" sent by the crown prince, and as the true hope of the new era.

Gunnaris's success was widely reported in Athenian newspapers, and a photo of him eating with farmers appeared on the front page of The Daily Telegraph. He became the most dazzling political star of the new regime and the best example of the rise of the common people.

However, when a new star rises, its light also illuminates something in the shadows.

On the plains of Thessaly, the former landowners who had been stripped of their land did not disappear. They lost their legal ownership of the land, but their pockets remained full of huge sums of bonds and gold coins from the sale of their land. Their connections, like the gnarled roots of an old tree, were still deeply embedded in every corner of this land.

They dared not, and could not, confront Crown Prince Constantine, who held military power. But they soon discovered a more covert and safer shortcut before them.

—Corrupting the "new elites" under the Crown Prince.

Outside Gunaris's residence, some well-dressed visitors began to appear. At first, they simply expressed their gratitude humbly, thanking Lord Gunaris for handling their land redemption issues "fairly and justly."

"Lord Gunaris, this is just a small amount of local wine, nothing more."

"Sir, this is homemade olive paste made by my mother. Please try it."

Gunaris smiled and declined each offer. On the wall of his office hung Constantine's inscription: "Justice is the soul of the New Deal." He regarded this as his guiding principle.

A few days later, a magnificent carriage pulled up in front of the mansion. A steward of the former landlord respectfully presented a gold-embossed invitation.

"Lord Gunaris, my master is hosting a small music appreciation event at his residence and hopes to have the honor of inviting you to attend and offer your guidance. A renowned soprano from Paris will be giving a wonderful performance."

Gunaris frowned. "I don't have time for this."

The butler smiled broadly: "Sir, you misunderstand. My master simply wanted to consult you in person about some policy issues concerning investing in the construction of a new flour mill. You know, we old-timers always have only a superficial understanding of new laws."

Gunaris hesitated for a moment. The Crown Prince did indeed encourage them, the former landowners, to invest their funds in industrial development. He felt that explaining the policy was part of his job.

The banquet that night was far more lavish than he had imagined. Crystal chandeliers illuminated the hall as if it were daytime, silver cutlery gleamed, and the air was filled with the aroma of roast lamb and French champagne. The former landowners surrounded him, their attitude humble and subservient, their mouths full of praise.

A dancer from Athens, with a captivating figure and alluring eyes, gazed at him with adoration all night long.

Gunaris felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction. This feeling was quite different from the respect he received from the peasants; it was an affirmation of his personal power from the upper class.

When the banquet ended, he politely declined the carriage offered by the host and insisted on walking back himself. He needed the cold night wind to dispel the heat brought on by the alcohol and that dangerous vanity.

But the butler came again the next day.

He didn't say much, but simply placed a heavy little wooden box on Gunaris's table.

"My lord, this is a small token of my husband's appreciation for your guidance last night, which enlightened us greatly. This has nothing to do with official business; it's purely a personal gesture."

Gunaris opened the wooden box, and the golden light stung his eyes.

A whole box full of gold coins.

"Take it!" Gunaris's voice trembled slightly as he slammed the box shut.

The steward, however, remained calm and bowed deeply: "My lord, you misunderstand. This is not a bribe. You have worked day and night for our land, and we simply... simply wish you a more respectable residence and some decent clothes. You represent His Highness the Crown Prince."

After saying that, the butler didn't press the matter further and turned to leave, as if he had only done a trivial matter.

That night, Gunaris didn't sleep a wink.

That box of gold coins was kept in his study, like a breathing demon.

He remembered his impoverished background, the expectant looks in his parents' eyes, Stavros's encouraging pat on the shoulder, and the trusting gaze in His Highness Constantine's eyes when he received him.

He suddenly stood up, intending to throw the box of gold coins away.

But when he walked to the window and saw the brightly lit mansion of the old landlord across the street, and then looked back at his own humble official residence, a feeling of resentment, like a poisonous vine, entwined his heart.

On what grounds?

Why are they born with everything, while I, who have put in a hundred times the effort, can only live in a place like this?

He hid the box of gold coins under the bed in his bedroom.

He told himself that this was simply to "implement the new policy more smoothly" and to better integrate with them so as to guide them to invest.

But when he lay in bed, the slight creaking of the bed frame with each turn sounded like gold coins mocking his self-deception. The floor beneath his feet was no longer a solid plank, but a red-hot iron, searing his conscience.

This was the beginning of his downfall.

Once the cracks of greed are torn open, they can never be closed again.

A few days later, when Gunaris was allocating a piece of land near a water source, a distant relative of an old landowner happened to draw lots and get the best piece of land.

That night, another equally heavy box appeared under his bed.

He began to frequent lavish banquets and accept expensive suits and watches as gifts from his "friends." His official residence was also quietly renovated, with carpets and furniture imported from Athens.

The changes were first felt by the farmers at the very bottom of society.

"That's strange. Before, when I went to Lord Gunaris for business, it could be done in one day. Why do I have to go three or four times now?"

"Yes, I submitted my seed loan application two weeks ago, and it still hasn't been approved."

"I heard that guy from the next village, who used to be a lackey of the landlord, got five hectares of prime irrigated land yesterday!"

Some even more unpleasant rumors began to circulate quietly in the fields and villages, in hushed tones.

Want things done quickly? You'll have to pay a "gratitude fee".

"I heard from my cousin that nowadays, to see an adult, you have to give their servant money first, which is called a 'handling fee'."

These complaints, like an undercurrent beneath the water, surged silently.

They haven't yet coalesced into a torrent powerful enough to breach a dam, but they've already alerted another invisible network.

The Royal Intelligence Bureau.

An agent, posing as a clockmaker and operating undercover in the town of Thessaly, added the following to his weekly report:

"Target: Dmitri Gunaris. His personal spending has increased significantly recently, and he maintains close relationships with several former stewards. Multiple unexplained inflows of funds have appeared in the accounts of his servants at his residence. Recommendation: Upgrade the watch level."

The report, marked "Under Observation," was encrypted and sent to Athens through secret channels.