The Happiness Evangelist (3)
The vast markets of the Qing Dynasty and Japan had opened in succession, all within the span of a single year.
To the North, which had just ended the Civil War and was drowning in massive oversupply, this was nothing short of a golden opportunity.
They had literally crushed Satsuma and Choshu alongside the British, proving beyond doubt that the United States lacked nothing to be called one of the great powers.
Thanks to that, they extracted a handsome amount of reparations. Cheap cotton textiles spun from Northern mills could now flood the Chinese market, and treaties were even secured that allowed them to pour capital into Japan and establish factories.
The moment those treaties were signed, the Northern company Standard Supply—also known as SM—announced in perfect coordination with the British that they would build factories in Japan.
Whoever owned that company, they certainly moved fast. They must have been born with the face of a man destined to make a fortune.
Of course, the ones most excited weren’t just the British and American capitalists. The South, which supplied the raw materials, was equally thrilled.
A magical product that sold no matter how much you produced?
And now demand was exploding by hundreds of millions at once, even raising the prospect of price increases?
“James Serget is the messenger God sent to save the cotton industry. It’s even written in the Mississippi statutes.”
“Asia! Asia is the land of opportunity!”
In the South, I had transcended the simple role of a businessman. I was becoming the Apostle of Cotton, or perhaps the living spirit of cotton itself.
With this overwhelming support as my foundation, I began sweeping up land without the slightest hesitation.
The Delta region—already considered the most fertile in Mississippi—was virtually the private domain of Serget Cotton. Now my eyes turned westward.
Texas.
Its vast lands and terrifying potential were being sold at rock-bottom prices.
Though still underdeveloped and inefficient, that would change once my capital and organizational power were poured in.
“Buy it all. Every single handful of Texas soil.”
A colossal cotton empire spanning Mississippi and Texas.
If the export volume to China opened up on top of that, the originally projected net profit of 100,000 pounds for 1863 would be laughably exceeded.
‘At least 200,000 pounds.’
In modern terms, that was hundreds of billions—perhaps even approaching trillions in cash flow.
The reparations Satsuma and Choshu owed the Anglo-American allied forces after this war came to 150,000 pounds. If I felt like it, a single year’s profit could pay off that debt with money left over.
But where there is strong light, the shadows grow deep.
As Serget Cotton expanded at breakneck speed, subtle undercurrents began to stir.
“Chairman, discontent is rising among the white underclass. They say the Negroes are living large while they themselves are starving to death.”
Leo’s report was precise.
After all, most of my plantations were run by Black employees.
If things continued this way, the perception of “Serget Cotton = paradise for Blacks only” would take root. That would inevitably stimulate feelings of inferiority and hatred among poor whites, eventually becoming the spark for terrorism.
On the other hand, simply hiring them created its own problems.
To put it bluntly, the self-important Dixies—who had long since divorced themselves from any sense of self-awareness—would never accept being treated the same as Black workers.
So first, their perception needed a little adjustment.
I immediately summoned the leadership of the KKK.
Naturally, this meeting took place in the utmost secrecy, in a dark and shadowy location.
“Invisible Dragon, you summoned us.”
Nathan Bedford Forrest extended his hand, and the Grand Dragons bowed with solemn expressions.
I put on a deliberately grave face and spoke.
“Grand Wizard, the General is correct. Upon reflection, if we are to grow even more powerful and magnificent in the future, the correct path is to thoroughly trample those inferior Asians and use them as our doormats.”
At this moment, I was the highest-ranking officer of the KKK—the living waste known as the Transparent Dragon. Roar!
“As expected! You understand us perfectly!”
“Then what would be the surest way for us to dominate those inferior yellow monkeys? Bayonets and bullets? No.”
“Could it be… cotton?”
I nodded and pointed toward the white cotton fields visible outside the window.
“Look at that cotton. That pure white cotton is God’s gift, proof of our white superiority.”
“I have always thought so as well.”
“Producing this sacred cotton and selling it in Asia. Binding their economies to us through it! Would that not be true domination?”
The logical leap was enormous, but the KKK had never been a group that operated on logic. This level of brainless assertion was perfect.
“Therefore, white men must also join this holy war. I am not telling them to work like slaves. I am saying they should join the production lines so that the cotton we produce can become the weapon with which we dominate those inferior Asians.”
“A most reasonable statement! Cotton shall become the white man’s weapon!”
Once it was reframed not as simple labor but as “production for domination,” their eyes lit up with fervor.
“However, if we advertise this openly, the Northern hypocrites may interfere. So spread the message subtly under the guise of ‘employment encouragement.’ I trust that our Invisible Empire can accomplish this with ease.”
“Leave it to us! We will spread this gospel to our brothers in Texas and Alabama at once!”
Forrest left in a state of deep emotion. Soon afterward, a bizarre campaign swept across the entire South.
That is the path to conquering Asia!
In the end, white men joining the ranks of cotton farming was not a choice but an inevitability.
The poor whites who had hesitated out of pride now pretended they could no longer resist Forrest’s agitation—or rather, pretended they had made a resolute decision for the salvation of the nation—and knocked on the doors of Serget Cotton.
Thanks to them, my empire grew even larger, absorbing not only Black but also white laborers.
Of course, to prevent immediate conflict, the plantations would be strictly segregated for now. In the long term, however, whether Black or white—or eventually Asian immigrants—they would all become equal cogs working for my money.
Was this not the true melting pot of races?
Once I judged that internal traffic control had been sufficiently arranged, I summoned Forrest and the other executives once again in secret.
“There is a critical mission that only you gentlemen can carry out.”
“Ooooh!”
“If it is the Invisible Dragon’s plan, we will follow it without question.”
“As you all know, the Qing Dynasty is too heavily under British influence for us to find any opening. However, Japan—which has now been completely opened—is different. Shouldn’t we Southern whites seize the initiative there, at the very least?”
For the clowns who obviously had no idea where Japan was, I spread out a map and pointed to the Japanese archipelago.
“The only ones fit to firmly grasp those barbaric Japanese monkeys are you—the Grand Wizard, the Grand Dragons, and the rest of you. Go forth, dominate their markets, and return in triumph. I entrust this task to you.”
For a moment, a flicker of bewilderment crossed Forrest’s face.
“But… we have never done business before…”
“Worry not. Business? It’s nothing difficult. Simply go and monitor whether those inferior beings are properly wearing clothes made from our cotton. If they aren’t, force them to do so. That’s all.”
“Is that truly sufficient?”
“Of course. If you produce results, you will go down in history alongside me as heroes of the South. The White Knights who conquered Asia.”
Heroes. Knights. Conquest. Triumphant return.
The chuunibyou sensibilities of the KKK executives were mercilessly stimulated. Their eyes began to burn fiercely with circuits of happiness.
“We shall do it! We will turn Japan into the land of the white man and return!”
If even a shred of reason had remained, I would have needed to persuade them with concrete figures. The fact that it wasn’t necessary at all left me utterly astonished.
Once their jubilant figures had completely disappeared on their way to pack, I spoke quietly.
“Leo.”
“Yes, Chairman.”
“Gather a team of quick-witted, intelligent boys. The ones working under Will or Nick.”
“You intend to send them to Japan?”
As expected, he understood instantly.
Talking with the KKK had contaminated my mind; now it felt like it was returning to normal.
“No matter what those idiots do over there, clean up after them from the shadows. Manage the books with absolute precision and make sure the goods sell no matter what.”
“They will undoubtedly cause accidents.”
“Let them. But in the end, make sure money is earned. No matter how idiotic their actions, make them think, ‘Huh? It works when we do it.’”
It was obvious what would happen to men incapable of rational judgment once they tasted repeated success.
“Understood. I will make them believe they have become gods of management.”
“Good. In any case, we’ve completely shattered Japan’s protective barriers, so market penetration won’t be difficult.”
These idiots, who would bring no benefit whatsoever if left in the country, would first be driven abroad.
Would this not bring international shame?
On the contrary, if it didn’t, I would be the one in trouble.
They needed to become clowns so ridiculous that they would make every Western great power fall over backward in laughter.
* * *
A few days later.
I had expected them to ask for more preparation time, but the KKK’s General and executives truly boarded a ship bound for Yokohama, determined to sound the pure white march of triumph.
At the same time, Serget Cotton’s top aces—personally selected by Leo—gathered in one place to support our Grand Wizard and Grand Dragons from behind the scenes.
“I will emphasize once more: you must never let them realize that you are doing anything. The important thing is to make them believe that even when you produce results, it was because they gave the orders.”
“It will be difficult, but we will try.”
“Good. If you succeed, I will triple your year-end bonuses as a special incentive.”
“Uwooooh! We will succeed! We will definitely make it happen!”
Originally, Japan had applied a 5% tariff on British cotton textiles, but through every excuse imaginable, they had maintained an effective rate of 20%. On top of that, currency manipulation, disruption of distribution networks, and campaigns promoting domestic goods had prevented Western textiles from completely dominating the Japanese market.
But now, as a result of the war, tariffs were fixed at 5%, distribution interference was impossible, and Satsuma and Choshu—who had promoted domestic products—had been utterly crushed.
In this situation, failing to produce results would be more strange than succeeding. No matter how much the KKK trolled, cleaning up the business wouldn’t be particularly difficult.
“Chairman, shall we give advance notice to a few journalists? To achieve what you desire, we will need articles that are as humiliating, embarrassing, and cringeworthy as possible, won’t we?”
“You know me well. Prepare about ten of them.”
Humans may seem rational, but in reality they are irrational creatures who only understand pain after being beaten once.
As the saying goes, all safety regulations are written in blood. Humanity only realizes how harmful an extreme ideology is after actually experiencing it.
No matter how passionately one decries discrimination, massacre, or ethnic cleansing, it can never be as effective as making people directly experience the Nazis.
The same applied to the KKK.
It would be easy to uproot them while they had done nothing. But if we did, wouldn’t another racial organization emerge in America?
I would bet my entire fortune that another group—whether AAA or JJJ—sharing similar ideology would inevitably appear.
In that sense, the fact that the most vicious and headache-inducing racist group in American history was this chuunibyou organization might actually be a stroke of luck.
“Leo, remember this well. If there is a group or ideology you want to completely destroy, the best method is not to preach how harmful it is.”
Labeling a particular ideology or group as evil will almost certainly provoke a backlash.
An outright ban is the worst possible move and needs no further explanation.
“The best method is to turn them into a laughingstock. The moment the perception takes root that they are so unbearable to look at that anyone associated with them would also be ridiculed, that group is finished.”
Take politicians, for example. No matter how much abuse they receive or how often they are called bastards deserving of death, their recognition only rises in proportion.
But the moment they become a meme and are consumed as a joke, their peak is capped right there.
“So you intend to do the same to the KKK.”
“Exactly. Grand Wizard and Grand Dragons—what kind of idiots come up with names like that? If it were me, I’d have a heart attack from sheer embarrassment just from using those titles.”
Go, KKK. Disappear along with your ugly memories.
“But Chairman… you also hold the title of Invisible Dragon…”
What are you talking about?
I don’t know any such person.