Chapter 99
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 99
Chapter Title: The Magician of Leavenworth (3)
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Crazy bastard.
A thoroughly insane one at that.
Before even hearing his story, I decided it was time for a proper lesson.
Has this idiot lost his mind?
One step... forward?
"You fucking lunatic! You know damn well what Korea across the ocean looks like right now, don't you?! Huh?! You trying to get yourself killed?!"
"Hyuuung— It huuuurts—"
This is exhausting.
Only after I was drenched in sweat like I'd just come out of a sauna did I finally slump over my desk.
"Hey."
"...Yeah."
"You nuts?"
"It's not like that. Just hear me out. For real."
"You think I can even listen right now? Huh? No connection to Japan at all? Admit that, and I'll buy it."
"N-no. See, it's a bit complicated—"
"Complicated? Then shut your trap."
My hands were shaking so bad I couldn't even light a match.
I tossed the cigarette from my mouth onto the floor and pulled out some paper and a pen.
"Write it down. I'm not reading it, so just jot down whatever you know. Name, age, address, parents' names, all that crap."
"If you're not gonna look, then who—"
"I'm hiring Pinkertons or whoever to check it out, you moron!"
Maybe someone's sticking to this dimwit just for the money. Or worse, some group planted a commie spy on him.
In the absolute worst case, if Japan's deliberately sent someone because they suspect funds flowing to the Provisional Government?
Of course, I don't think I'm big enough yet for nation-state espionage, but that slim possibility alone means I have to be careful. After all, I'm a military officer.
"You. What if that girl's approaching you with ulterior motives?"
"No way."
"I'm thinking Pinkertons might not be enough—maybe I need someone even tougher. Answer quick. If her intentions are shady, you giving her up?"
"......If there's solid proof, yeah, I'd have to."
With that, my little brother clung to my leg like a begging cicada.
"But there's no way. Bro, seriously, just hear me out calmly—"
"Fine. You know best, right? But for me, I want a third-party objective opinion first. Look, straight talk— you think your excuses will convince me? Nah, it'll just piss me off more and make me dig in harder."
"......"
"So I'll get the objective data first. Then if something's fishy or I have questions, I'll ask you."
"If it turns out her intentions really are bad, I'd be furious too."
After a moment's thought, he took a deep breath.
"But if there's no issue and you still oppose it, I can't let her go. For real. I'd cut ties and elope to South America if I had to."
"You're insane?"
"Think a spiderweb's gonna grow over my mouth?"
Look at this guy. Head got thicker, now he's flooring it full throttle.
I never taught him to be like this...
Wait, did he turn out this way because of me?
"I know how much you've suffered all these years, bro. And that you've basically been the head of the family, lifting us up—I get all that."
"But while you were at West Point, Europe, whatever, I was busting my ass too. When you were shooting in Europe, I was shooting at crazy bastards trying to rob our safe. When you were leading soldiers forward, I was rallying the staff and working like a madman."
"So you're gonna do whatever the hell you want?"
"No. If I can't accept the reason for rejection, then I leave. If the temple doesn't want you, the monk walks, right?"
Watching him sob and pour out all his past hardships, it hit me—I haven't been much of a brother lately.
This ambiguous position as a minority in America.
The family head's authority is still absolute, and as the eldest and real breadwinner, I've used that power to do whatever I wanted.
From Eugene's view, the head's thousands of miles away sending letters or telegrams, leaving him to struggle without real authority.
Results are what matter, sure, but still.
"If there's really no problem, we'll talk again."
"...For real?"
"You think I'd lie about something like this? You told the rest of the family?"
"Not yet."
"Good. Keep your mouth shut for now. I'll head to San Francisco soon."
"Hyuuung..."
"Stop crying, you punk. What kinda man bawls like that? Your balls'll drop off."
"Hic... You bastard... You're such an asshole brother..."
This idiot suddenly turned on the waterworks—my pants were soaked, his face all swollen and bruised. Couldn't even scold him more.
Rectify the family first, then govern the state, pacify the land—right?
At least my family management was a solid F.
I shot a message to my father-in-law first, asking for help.
"Quite the intriguing situation."
"What now?"
"Some folks want to get acquainted with you, including one who could help with this matter. I'll connect you soon."
His connections are top-notch, as expected.
We agreed to review the results later and talk. For now, I boxed up my swirling complicated feelings and focused on work.
Navy and Army Air Service.
To prepare for World War II, maintaining good relations with those two is essential.
The Navy? Not holding my breath.
Think they'll listen to the Army? Like a seal nodding at me saying, "Hey, tank ops shouldn't be done like that~" Yeah, right. Nimitz, King, or Nelson rising from the grave—they'd all tell the seal to shut up and fuck off.
Just reaching "hey, even landlubbers can talk sense" level is fine. Push too hard, and you're the idiot who butts in where not welcome and bails where you should stay.
With the Navy, stick to basics: Asia-Pacific strategy, Philippines defense, sprinkle in some Atlantic stuff.
Army Air Service is trickier.
Some classmates are there—McNair, Stratemeyer, Harmon, etc.
It's still nascent, but full of hardliners. Only souls totally captivated by aviation join up.
So it's free-spirited, but surprisingly at odds with the Army. New organizations toughen up to survive.
Plus, it's tied directly to Army faction fights, so political footwork needed. Decide who to connect with first, then plan.
As I prepared step by step, another guest arrived at my quarters.
"I heard Father-in-Law made the introduction. Thank you for the help."
"Hello, Captain Kim. It's an honor to meet the Army's famed hero."
The man removed his hat and greeted me.
"I'm John Edgar Hoover from the BOI."
Hoover, the FBI lifer who's a conspiracy theorist's wet dream.
The nasty pervert's come calling.
"First, the documents you requested are here."
"Thanks."
I took the thick envelope and set it aside.
"Not checking them?"
"If you brought them, Mr. Hoover, they're good. I'll review later."
He tried hiding it, but a flicker of surprise showed at my first move.
Yeah. Still green.
Our age, not even thirty. Long way to go before awakening as the surveillance master.
"Do you know me?"
"With Father-in-Law in politics, I hear things occasionally. Heard ex-AG Palmer picked you up for your talents."
Palmer's name dropped—now he can't hide the agitation.
Thought he'd ride the AG line to glory, but Palmer crashed with Wilson. How disorienting. My little pebble's ripple reached here—butterfly effect's a mystery.
"I have no special ties to AG Palmer. Seems like a misunderstanding—"
"Oh, I know. You earned that picky bastard's nod on merit. That's why I'm not even looking at these results."
If he wants to buddy up, no funny business in there.
If there was real dirt, he'd be bursting to tell me, puffing up his chest to claim credit for blocking the threat. No big issue if he doesn't.
More importantly, opening it now feels like playing into Hoover's game. No thanks. What if he's after my ass?
"Heard you wanted to meet me, and now you've helped too—gotta ask. Anything I can do for you?"
"No. Just wanted to meet the man who honored America and hear your story."
"I see. Well, thanks then. Nice meeting you. Appreciate you coming all this way—safe travels."
"Pardon??"
"Or... more to say?"
This is fun.
Yanking his chain is pure gold.
Won't get to toy with the big shot later—better rack it up now. Stress melting away.
"Fine. You're a soldier alright—straight shooter. I'll be frank then."
"Go ahead."
"I expect Captain Kim and I can build a great partnership."
Partnership, huh.
Teaming up with future FBI overlord? Hell yeah, thank you.
"A mere captain?"
"Mere? Who calls America's war hero a mere captain? I believe the patriotism and ambition in your heart are beyond ordinary folk."
"Patriotism's every US officer's duty. Ambition... not quite. Promotion's natural for any officer—"
"Just promotion?"
Not giving him an inch, Hoover's getting antsy.
"Senator, Ford, minority groups, vets, bootlegging too. All for a mere promotion?"
"Things just connected that way. The girl I fell for happened to be a senator's daughter; Ford saw my future and offered sponsorship first."
"And the rest—"
"Caring for my roots. Ensuring futures for my precious subordinates who fought and came back. These are me filling gaps America ignored."
"Exactly."
He wiped sweat from his hands on his pants and clenched a fist.
"You know all that leads to politics, right?"
"Could. But I just won't go there."
"For America to care for them, DC's Capitol needs changing. Captain Kim, no one ends charity at simple acts—they don't start these fires!"
Yeah.
I'm not begging.
Spill your desires. Then I hold the high ground.
"I fight to protect this country differently. From reds, spies, criminals' clutches—safeguarding US citizens."
"Admirable patriotism."
"If we join hands, rise to the top in our fields—who dares threaten America?"
"Decades away, no?"
"No need to play coy, Captain. Meeting you confirms it. We have skill, will, wield means like swords for the right ends. Why wouldn't we team up?"
I tilted my head.
Coming on this strong? Unexpected.
Sure, I did a lot in WW1, but Pershing, MacArthur are there too. For him to approach so boldly despite my race handicap?
"What am I wielding?"
"Why'd you take down the President?"
Couldn't control my face now.
How the hell does this guy know?