Reincarnated with a Country Creation System

Johannes Krieg sat in his dimly lit cell, the cold biting at his skin despite the thin blanket draped over his shoulders. He was accustomed to discomfort, but this confinement had been uniquely grueling. Days of harsh interrogation and isolation had tested his patience and resolve, but he clung to one certainty: Valoria would not abandon him. He had served the Supreme Leader too long and too well to be left behind.

The metallic clink of keys in the lock broke the silence, drawing Johannes's attention to the door. It swung open, revealing Inspector Damien, his face a mask of irritation. Behind him stood two guards, their rifles held at the ready.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Good evening, Mr. Krieg," Damien said, his tone clipped. "I trust you're enjoying your holiday accommodations."

Johannes gave him a faint smile, his voice calm. "It's not quite the Winter Palace, but I'm managing."

Damien stepped inside, his boots clicking against the stone floor. "Your defiance is impressive, but I wonder—how long do you think it will last? Valoria isn't here to save you."

"Perhaps not yet," Johannes replied. "But you seem nervous, Inspector. Did something change?"

Damien's lips tightened. "You're becoming more trouble than you're worth, Krieg. The Tsar himself is growing impatient."

"Impatience often leads to mistakes," Johannes said evenly.

Damien ignored the jab, pulling a chair closer to the cot. He leaned in, his voice lowering to a near whisper. "You think you're clever, playing the silent hero. But you're not the only pawn in this game. Your comrades in the revolution—they've been talking."

Johannes's expression didn't falter. "If that's true, why are you still here, wasting time with me?"

Damien's fist slammed against the wall, the sound reverberating through the cell. The guards exchanged uneasy glances, but neither moved.

"I will break you," Damien hissed. "One way or another."

Johannes met his gaze, unflinching. "You can try."

Ruthenian Ministry of State Security.

Gregori Vasiliev sat in his office, reviewing the latest security updates from the state police facility. The additional patrols and surveillance measures were in place, and the building was effectively a fortress. Yet, he couldn't shake the nagging unease that lingered at the back of his mind.

Valoria's operatives were some of the best in the world, their methods precise and often unpredictable. If they were planning an extraction, it would be surgical—a lightning strike that left no trace of their involvement.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Enter," Vasiliev called, setting the report aside.

A junior officer stepped inside, saluting crisply. "Comrade Vasiliev, there's a message from the Winter Palace. The Tsar requests another update on the prisoner."

Vasiliev nodded, his expression unreadable. "Prepare the secure line. I'll deliver the report myself."

The ornate study was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight as Tsar Ivan sat at his desk, the frost-covered windows casting faint patterns on the walls. The secure telephone on the desk rang, and the Tsar answered it with a measured, "Speak."

"Your Majesty," Vasiliev's deep voice came through the line. "I am calling with the latest update on the Valorian prisoner, Johannes Krieg."

"Proceed," Ivan said, leaning back in his chair.

"Inspector Damien's interrogation methods have yet to yield substantial results," Vasiliev reported. "Krieg remains steadfast, though there are signs of strain. Additional security measures have been implemented at the facility, and patrols have been doubled in anticipation of a possible extraction attempt."

"And the Valorian response?" the Tsar asked, his tone sharp.

"Thus far, they have remained silent beyond their initial diplomatic inquiry," Vasiliev said. " "They've exhausted their diplomatic channels, Your Majesty, and now they wait. Do they think we will fold under their unspoken threats?"

"They misunderstand us, Vasiliev," Ivan finally said, his tone sharp. "Valoria assumes that we are as fragile as the revolutionaries they manipulate. They see a fractured Ruthenia and believe they can pressure us into compliance. We must disabuse them of this notion."

"How do you wish to proceed, Your Majesty?" Vasiliev asked.

The Tsar's fingers drummed against the desk as he spoke. "Johannes Krieg remains a bargaining chip, but also a liability. We must ensure his continued silence while reminding Valoria that Ruthenia is not to be trifled with."

"Your Majesty, might I suggest using the opportunity to send a stronger message?" Vasiliev said. "Their silence signals preparation for a response. If we outmaneuver them now, we not only secure our position but also assert dominance over the narrative."

Ivan's gaze hardened. "Elaborate."

Vasiliev's voice grew colder. "If Valoria is waiting for us to blink first, we must ensure that they see unwavering strength. I propose issuing a public statement condemning foreign interference in Ruthenia. Emphasize our sovereignty and the dangers of subversion. Meanwhile, we tighten our grip on the prisoner and dismantle any remaining revolutionary networks with swift and decisive action."

The Tsar leaned back, his expression contemplative. "You suggest baiting Valoria into revealing their hand?"

"Precisely, Your Majesty," Vasiliev replied. "Force them to act impulsively, and we gain the upper hand."

***

A junior officer approached, his steps hesitant. "Inspector Damien, a directive from the Ministry. Vasiliev wants a complete status update within the hour. They've requested details on Krieg's condition, the progress of the interrogations, and any changes to facility security."

Damien sighed, rubbing his temples. "Tell Vasiliev the interrogations are ongoing and that Krieg remains resistant. Perhaps…we are just waiting. Johannes could be what he claims to be."

"An ordinary journalist would have his mind broken after our attempts," the officer said, raising a point.

Damien sighed, the weight of the officer's observation hanging in the air. "And yet, he hasn't. If Krieg is truly what he claims, then he's the most resilient 'ordinary journalist' I've ever encountered."

The junior officer hesitated before speaking. "Do you think Valoria prepared him for this? Perhaps he's more than just a journalist—a sleeper agent or some form of covert operative?"

Damien leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled as he considered the suggestion. "It's possible, but we have no concrete proof. Valoria's silence speaks volumes. If Krieg were expendable, they wouldn't be investing so much effort in ensuring his survival. That tells me he's important—vital, even."

The officer nodded, awaiting further instructions.

"Increase the frequency of interrogations," Damien said, his tone sharp. "But no physical torture. We need him intact, mentally and physically. Focus on psychological tactics—wear him down, make him doubt his support. If we can break his will, the truth will follow."

The officer saluted and left, leaving Damien to his thoughts. His instincts told him the situation was far more dangerous than anyone was letting on. Ruthenia was playing with fire, and Valoria's response would come—it was only a matter of time.