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Barin-Shabarin 3

Barin-Shabarin 3

8 hrs. 18 min.
I believed in the future of my country—Russia was changing before my eyes. I finished the presidential program and burned with desire to develop new lands. But I died in a conflict with traitors for whom the word “Motherland” was just empty sound and who were busy carving up budgets.

And for their sins, let there be payment! Where did I sin so much that I ended up in the 19th century—in the body of a moral scoundrel, a bankrupt card-playing squire. My estate is mortgaged to the bank; a painting of a bare-breasted lady hides a crack in the house—and then bandits come right in, as if it’s their home! Oh yes—my mother went off to Petersburg, taking all the money. All of it? No—me, meaning me already, promised society a grand ball…

“Master! Those non-humans are threatening to kill us again!” I hear the trembling voice of the steward.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, Yemelya,” I sigh, and pick up the pistol from the side table.

Well then—where ours hasn’t gone missing! Mother Russia, meet your son!”
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