Chapter 141
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 141
Chapter Title: The Darkest Hour (1)
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Japanese Imperial Territory of Chosun.
Gyeongsangbuk-do Province, Seonsan, Gumi-myeon, Sangmo-ri.
A utterly commonplace backwater village in Chosun.
It took an eternity to walk to the township, and reaching any place worthy of being called a city demanded serious preparation—or resolve. Naturally, there were no local specialties or anything worth boasting about.
But even this humble village had its own point of pride: a young man who was something worth bragging about, even if he hailed from such an out-of-the-way spot.
"Oh my, Sang-hee? What brings you here?"
"Haha, just came down for some business. Everything alright?"
"Yep. Your ma's out in the fields—wait just a sec! Sang-hee's ma!!"
Park Sang-hee gazed at the familiar rural landscape he'd returned to after so long, a wave of nostalgia washing over him.
As if he might never see it again, he meticulously scanned every corner of the small, impoverished village, committing the sights to memory like a camera capturing each frame. At last, he headed home.
"What's this about?"
"I came because I have something to tell you."
"You ain't gettin' dragged off to prison or nothin', are ya?"
"No, nothing like that. Actually, it's good news, haha."
Once his parents had settled into their seats, he dove straight into unloading his bundle of tales.
"It's nothing major, but I've landed an amazing opportunity this time."
"You ain't sayin' you're takin' a job with the Japs, are ya?"
"Of course not!"
He jumped up in protest at his father's words, abandoning any preamble and pressing on.
"I've been selected for the scholarship program hosted by the Oriental Education Development Fund."
"Oriental... what now?"
"The Oriental Education Development Fund. You know, the one where General Kim Eugene sends young folks abroad to study."
"General Kim's scholarship? You? You really got it?!"
"Oh my goodness! Oh heavens! We never even dreamed of such luck—what's all this?!"
This time, it was his parents' turn to leap to their feet.
General Kim's scholarship—the golden ticket that even the Japs and their lackeys prayed for with holy water. The chance said to outrank even Tokyo Imperial University had fallen to their son!
"Th-this won't do. We gotta slaughter a cow right now."
"Right, right! Gotta call the whole village. Headman, round everyone up. I'll go to the township and drag back a beast."
"What if folks from the township come too?"
"What kinda question is that?! Of course they'll come! Who in all of Seonsan besides our Sang-hee has ever set foot in America?!"
Before he could even try to stop them, his parents bolted from their seats and dashed off. In the distance, his mother's lion roar echoed: "Everyone in the village!!" tickling his ears.
It was tricky to explain the twists behind his selection, so he couldn't spill all the details.
It had happened not long ago.
"America?"
"Yes, America. Selected by the Oriental Education Development Fund—we're sending you there."
Park Sang-hee was a member of the New Stem Society, one of the most zealous activists in the Gyeongsangbuk-do region.
It pained them to send away someone already renowned and respected locally, but there was no choice.
"The Japs picked you out themselves."
"What... what do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said. The Japs begged the fund to get you out of Chosun—they wrote your name themselves."
It was bewildering.
He'd heard whispers of such tactics, but never dreamed he'd be the target.
"You must've really gotten under their skin."
"Can't I just say no?"
"You in your right mind? We didn't choose you—the Japs did. Refuse this, and who knows what comes next... You know, right?"
They'd find some way to snuff him out young.
If you nitpicked, this was a modern twist on exile to the boonies.
Spot a smart, famous, fiercely anti-Japanese youth and hand him the "opportunity of a lifetime."
Once he left, setting foot on Chosun soil again would be near impossible—it was plain as day. But flip it around: a man facing trumped-up charges and a death sentence could instead soak up knowledge in America.
The dilemma didn't last long.
Truth be told, once he knew the Japs' hands were in it, refusal wasn't an option.
But his parents and the villagers, oblivious to the backstory, were already cracking open the makgeolli, ditching the day's farm work to revel in the joy.
He downed bowl after bowl pressed on him by tipsy neighbors, then slipped back home on some excuse.
"Our baby boy's not eatin' meat and hidin' in his room doin' what?"
"...Hyung's goin' to America, huh."
"Yeah. America."
His twelve-years-younger little brother was always frail, quietly worrying him.
To keep the kid from boredom while bedridden, he'd bring books from the city. But today, of all days, the boy was sulking under the covers, not showing his face. Usually, he'd tug at Sang-hee's pant leg asking for new reads.
"Too rushed today—couldn't grab a book."
"Don't need it. Books."
"I'll get two next time. Look at these all worn out."
Two particularly tattered books in the corner.
One a biography of Napoleon, the other of Eugene Kim. A reading taste that screamed upright character.
"Pull back the blanket—let hyung see your face."
"No. Just go to America already. I'm stuck rottin' in this village forever."
"Hey now. Keep that up, you'll regret it."
"Regret what."
"The America trip. Family can come along, actually?"
"......For real?"
"Think I'd kid? Let's see who's goin' from our house—"
"Just me, right? Me? Me?!"
"Can't take a kid buried in blankets."
No sooner said than the blanket flew to the corner in a kick.
"Me! Me! I wanna see General Kim Eugene!"
"Might be tough even if we go."
"Still America! Take me to Americaaa!!"
"With how weak you are... And once we go, comin' back's hard?"
Sang-hee had planned to bring his little brother since descending to the countryside.
The kid trudged hours to school despite his frailty. Sang-hee was past his prime for studies, but the boy could become someone great in America.
With this chance, he wanted at least his baby brother free of tuition woes.
Unaware of his brother's heartbreak at leaving beloved Chosun soil, little Jeong-hee chattered excitedly.
"Hyung! Can I join the army there? Fight Japs with General Kim Eugene?"
"Haha, guess we'll see when we get there."
Yeah. As long as the kid was happy.
He flashed a wry smile and ruffled his brother's hair wildly.
Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the globe, Munich, Germany.
This place brimmed with distrust and hostility toward the current regime, the Weimar Republic, more than anywhere else in Germany. It was also where a minor party had first stirred to life.
The National Socialist German Workers' Party.
The Nazis, for short.
They'd once launched a coup to swallow the nation whole in one gulp, but their forces were weak, and the conspirators spineless as birds' chests. Far from saving the chaotic country, they were crushed outright.
Yet fortune favors the bold, as they say.
Party leader Adolf Hitler rocketed to national fame as a patriot and orator during the coup trial, then published his insightful manifesto Mein Kampf, leaping forward once more.
And today, Paul Joseph Goebbels—a senior party executive—visited his revered leader's home.
"Leader? Leader?"
The door was unlocked.
Goebbels strode inside, cautiously calling out.
"—Thus, for the Aryan race's survival! We must exterminate those vile Jews—Bolsheviks who stabbed us in the back during the Great War!"
"Leader?"
"Ah, Dr. Goebbels. Sorry. Practicing my speech."
Hitler flung open the window and snatched the thick stack of documents Goebbels held.
"This the stuff I ordered?"
"Yes."
Goebbels glanced at the three frames on the wall as he replied.
One was a portrait of Italy's Prime Minister, Benito Mussolini.
Hitler's role model and idol. The strongest man on earth, who'd unified frail, fractured Italy.
The Nazis had mimicked Mussolini's "March on Rome" for their coup but learned only that Italy and Germany weren't the same.
Another was Henry Ford, the American industrialist.
A true crusader building a steel empire across the Atlantic, battling the insidious Jews—Bolsheviks.
And the last—
"Always wondered: why that guy's portrait?"
"Because he's America's peerless superman."
Hitler spat the words sharply.
"We Aryans conquered Asia and Europe, laying them at our feet. Surely a figure like Genghis Khan hides Aryan blood. Don't you think?"
"Tatars as Aryan descendants?"
"Who knows. Ask Himmler. But a great conqueror deserves honorary Aryan respect for his deeds alone. And the last cavalry lord of the 20th century? Eugene Kim, naturally."
Hitler nodded toward Eugene Kim's portrait on the wall.
"A man four years my junior crushed the great Aryan armies while I choked on gas as a lowly grunt. Junkers generals, pampered parasites who'd trained militarily their whole lives, fell one after another to Eugene Kim before he even hit thirty."
"That's... true."
"My theory: trace his bloodline, and you'll find the greatest ancient Aryan ancestor. What elite training did he have? Without conqueror's genes, where'd that genius strategy come from?"
Stunning feats with a second-rate power's weak army—no less a contemptible black unit.
If a genius like Eugene Kim had led the Deutsch master race instead of those blockhead Junkers, would they have lost the Great War?
He believed not for a second, flipping through the congressional testimony Goebbels brought.
"And my bold guess... he's one of us."
"That's even harder to believe."
"I'm certain he studied Mussolini deeply. He knows how to handle the masses. Innate talent honed by effort. Look here, this part. Again: a Tatar officer four years my junior holds his own in debate against hundreds of politicians."
Hitler trembled head to toe, fists shaking wildly.
"This is the Ubermensch! Nietzsche's superman right here! Why did the Lord burden him with Tatar chains? Why not grant him to the Deutsch race?! God is dead. Dead, I say."
This genius strategy, this mass agitation mastery. Get it? He's just like ancient Rome's emperors. I guarantee: Henry Ford and Eugene Kim will unite, sweep away the Jews—Bolsheviks, and found a true land of freedom.
Time was pressing.
If fascist states replaced rotten capitalism in Italy and America, Germany had to hurry and align.
"Germany needs its National Socialist revolution now. It's the answer to this dark age. If Germany, America, Italy unite and Britain remembers Aryan duty, we can crush the Jews and Soviets!"
"Indeed."
Unbelievable as it was, Goebbels accepted it.
Their leader saw farther than any—the Deutsch race's supreme guide.