What do you do if you control a private army of 25,000 battle-hardened gunslingers? Go into exile in Belarus and hope that Vladimir Putin does not slip you a poisoned tea bag?

Retreat to your gold mine in the Central African Republic and give interviews to Russian journalists who venture upriver to the heart of darkness?

Or, intoxicated by last Saturday’s cheers and applause, remain a player in Russia’s fast-evolving domestic politics?  

Such choices face Yevgeny Prigozhin, the mercenary leader who raced his soldiers 500 miles north of Rostov, and then stopped only 125 miles short of the Kremlin walls.

On Monday night, a stern Mr. Putin took credit for what he called the bloodless outcome of the military mutiny. “From the very beginning of the events, on my direct instructions, steps were taken to avoid a lot of bloodshed,” he said on national TV. “This took time, including to give those who made a mistake a chance to change their minds.”

In reality, the Russian Air Force, presumably on Mr. Putin’s orders, rocketed the convoy in Voronezh, damaging five military vehicles. The mutineers shot back, downing six helicopters and a massive Ilyushin Il-18 air command center. 

After Voronezh, the rebels drove north, moving like a knife through butter. Russian military units offered no opposition. As the mutineers approached Moscow, a Presidential plane flew out of Moscow.

In his TV speech, Putin said “civic solidarity” defeated the rebels. In reality, videos from Rostov show townspeople booing local security forces and cheering Wagner troops, jostling for selfies with Prigozhin. 

There is no record of any police or military actions taken against the mutineers. A city of one million people, Rostov has been Russia’s command center for more than a decade for military operations in Ukraine.

Mr. Prigozhin, a master of social media with his own public relations unit, got a taste of popular support two weeks ago, when he conducted a series of a campaign-style public meetings in heartland of Russian cities. 

His best applause lines were harsh and often profane attacks on Russia’s defense minister and his aides. Speaking truth to power is a time-honored route to popularity in Russia.

Missing from Mr. Prigozhin’s public statements were bloodthirsty attacks on Ukraine. Instead, he broke taboos — and laws — by talking of the war’s high human toll and incompetence by Russia’s military leadership.

On Monday, a former general who is head of the Russian parliament’s defense committee, Andrei Kartapolov,  told Vedomosti newspaper that he is drafting a bill to legalize Wagner’s status. He said: “They didn’t offend anyone, they didn’t break anything. Nobody has even the slightest issue with them at all.”

On Tuesday, a business jet linked to Mr. Prigozhin flew to Minsk from Rostov, reports Flightradar 24. At the same time, Russia’s Federal Security Service said it had dropped a criminal case against Mr. Prigozhin for armed mutiny. Russia’s defense ministry said Wagner is preparing to hand over its heavy military equipment to the Russian army.

Yet with a political and military power base in Russia, Mr. Prigozhin is not likely to throw it all away and settle long-term for Belarus or Bangui.