The Sett Rehabilitation Center
Leo, who had accompanied me, sensed that the situation was far from ordinary and was fidgeting with anxiety.
"Master," he whispered.
"What is it?"
"Is it truly alright to meet with the Republicans? It will reach the President's ears immediately."
"That is exactly what I intend."
Just as the reason Breckinridge wanted to see me was obvious, the reason the Republicans were seeking me out was equally clear. What surprised me was that Breckinridge was a man who actually practiced what he preached to such an extent. Then again, that was likely why he would go down in history as the first and last Vice President to become a traitor to the United States. This time, he was set to acquire the title of a President who pointed a sword at the Union—a title no one could ever hope to surpass. He had far exceeded the level of human I could possibly evaluate.
However, as far as I knew, he had been against the South's secession from the Union. I couldn't understand what he was banking on to go this far. Had he seen Buchanan resign and changed his mind, shifting from a Unionist to a Southern independence path?
Putting those concerns aside, I received a fervent welcome from Lincoln and Seward and held a meeting at the hotel.
"...And so, Senator Cameron and I jokingly referred to you as 'Saint James.' But seeing you now, I realize it was not a title to be dismissed as mere jest. What other planter in this world could act as you do?"
"I am embarrassed to hear such excessive praise. I am not such a great man."
William Seward was currently a high-ranking heavyweight of the Republican Party, but in the modern era, he was more famous for purchasing the vast northern territory that was once mocked as "Seward's Folly." Yes, this man before me was indeed the very same Seward who bought Alaska. Since he would go on to play a major role as Secretary of State after Lincoln became President, it wouldn't hurt to build a good image.
I presented myself as a human rights activist, as polite and principled as possible, and a smile never left Seward's face. But personal affinity is one thing, and politics is another. He immediately composed his expression and brought up the main point of why he had summoned me.
"As you, who warned us, know best, Breckinridge is truly revealing his true colors."
"I did mention it to you, but I did not expect it to happen this quickly."
"Still, thanks to you, we were mentally prepared; otherwise, we would have been in for a massive shock. Good heavens, how can a person be like that? Is the man who is President truly trying to tear the Union apart into North and South?"
"It certainly seems so."
The Fugitive Slave Act was not merely a law to help Southern planters recover their property. It was an act that completely trampled upon the laws of the Northern states, which did not recognize slavery and viewed Black people as free citizens. The people of the North weren't having a seizure over this bill because they were overflowing with Black sensitivity or because they loved Black people so much. They were vehemently opposed to it because it was an evil law that treated the fundamental American principle of respecting the autonomy of each state as worthless.
Increasing the manpower to enforce the Fugitive Slave Act by five times meant the federal government was determined to infringe upon the freedom of the North five times more aggressively. How could they not feel disgusted?
However, Breckinridge, who was implementing this policy, and the Republicans, who were jumping up and down in outrage, were both making one grave mistake.
"Sett, as the greatest slave expert and heroic liberator in the Union, how do you think we should navigate this situation?"
"Since the President's will is so stubborn, there is actually nothing the Republicans or I can do. There is no legal means to stop a policy that a President, who holds the absolute support of the Senate and the South, is determined to implement."
"But we cannot just stand by and do nothing when there is no suitable means, can we?"
"Yes. We cannot just stand by. So, you must continue to raise your voices. And you must send a message to the captured slaves not to lose hope and to continue their struggle."
"...That's it? That sounds like a very abstract solution."
Seward and Lincoln reacted with skepticism, but that was because they and Breckinridge were fundamentally making the same mistake. It was true that Will had come from the South and was living a happier life than in the North, but that was only possible because I was the plantation owner. It was common sense that escaped slaves dragged off to other plantations wouldn't be living well.
Perhaps the mental shock the Will incident had dealt to the South and North was too great; it was absurd that these elites couldn't properly grasp the current situation.
"You need not worry. This policy of the President will bring about very interesting results. Ah, but I have one request as well. It is for the escaped slaves who will unfortunately be dragged back to the South."
The skeptical expressions of Seward and Lincoln finally brightened.
How about it, everyone? Do you like Saint James's benevolent plan?
My next subject of consultation was President Breckinridge, who lived a life like the protagonist of a grand light novel, [Suffering Because of the 10,000 Dixies Who Love Me Too Much]. As expected, he began to ask directly about what had happened yesterday.
"I heard that Seward and Lincoln of the Republican Party went to see you yesterday."
"Yes. They came and talked for a while before leaving."
Since I had told them to move openly, it was inevitable that it would reach the President's ears. I laughed nonchalantly and reeled off my prepared answers.
"They tried to persuade me, saying that the President's policy would permanently divide the North and South, so I shouldn't become a sinner in history by opposing this bill. I also heard a sermon about whether I wasn't ashamed as a Christian."
"Ha, permanent division, my foot. If this bill is enforced properly, the voices of those calling for independence in the South will disappear cleanly."
"I see. So, Mr. President, you intend to use this policy to ensure that Southern radicals can rest easy and remain in the Union."
"Exactly. Why on earth can't those Republicans understand this simple logic..."
My, our President is truly an optimistic man. I had thought he was pushing the South with all his might in the hope that the Civil War would break out quickly. To think this was all a misunderstanding—this was the greatest plot twist I had ever experienced in my life.
"I now clearly understand the grand will you hold, Mr. President."
"Oh, then what do you think? Do you believe that if the Fugitive Slave Act is strictly enforced, the dissatisfaction of Southern radicals will diminish?"
"That goes without saying. Because the Fire-Eaters will also know for certain that you, Mr. President, are sincere about maintaining slavery."
Instead of the Southern extremists calming down, something else would explode, but that was their own doing, so it wasn't a problem for me to worry about. As Breckinridge's face brightened at hearing the answer he wanted, I quickly added one more thing.
"However, there is one point of concern."
"What is that?"
"You, Mr. President, are supporting slavery with a noble sense of mission and conviction, but I have heard that you do not actually deal with slaves yourself."
"That is true. My support for slavery is solely to uphold the Constitution of the United States."
"So you may not know, but the majority of Southern planters are... unqualified. Dealing with slaves requires skill, but there are too many people who lack the aesthetics and ability as planters."
At my concern, as the greatest authority in the South regarding slave management, Breckinridge's face stiffened.
"...Is that so? But that is something that cannot be helped. It is not as if I can force them to receive training."
"Yes. It cannot be helped. That is why I have a good alternative, but I cannot easily bring it up. If I am not careful, it could be interpreted as me trying to satisfy my own greed..."
"It is fine, so speak. Everyone knows how devotedly you are working for the South, so surely no one would make such a criticism?"
Of course, a truckload of such people would appear; would they blindly trust me? Because the plan I was conceiving this time was so large in scale, I acted as cautious as possible and held my tongue.
"You said it is fine to speak? I am the one implementing it anyway, so I will listen first and then decide."
"Yes. Then I will state in advance that this is absolutely not something to be implemented right now. In my view, there are not many people who can re-educate slaves who have been influenced by the North and dragged back to the South. It is only because I am at my level that I could make Will submit so perfectly."
"I truly think that is amazing as well."
"Therefore, if the Fugitive Slave Act is strictly enforced and Black people are dragged to the South, there is a concern that unnecessary, greater chaos will occur because of low-level planters. It would be one thing if they were dragged back one or two at a time, but if the law is enforced on a large scale, escaped slaves will pour out in droves."
If they were accompanied by stronger corporal punishment and a storm of whips, they might calm down, but unfortunately, that would not happen. Why? Because John Brown, the messenger of justice who would be more outraged by this situation than anyone, was planning to indiscriminately release the escaped slaves repatriated to the South. It would be impossible for him alone, but what if a secret collaborator whose identity was unknown leaked information? Furthermore, what if that information contained detailed patrol routes and personnel counts of the militia?
"But that is only in the realm of inference; you cannot guarantee it will happen."
"Of course. I also hope nothing happens. But if the chaos truly grows as I fear, shouldn't you, Mr. President, also hold a card to handle this?"
"That must be the alternative you are so cautious about. Speak."
"If a problem arises, the cause will be that the planters could not properly control the escaped slaves who brought in bad ideas from the North. How should we solve this? We should send all of them to someone who can control them and have them go through a sort of re-education process."
The pretext would be that Black people who have committed crimes could cause social problems, so re-educating them would improve the South's public order. The actual purpose was to put those who had lived as free citizens in the North and were now slaves again through a re-enslavement process so they couldn't negatively influence other slaves. In other words, it would be a slave training camp.
Perhaps it was a solution he had never even imagined, as Breckinridge jumped up from his seat and burst into an exclamation.
"...That is a brilliant idea! There is no reason not to do it; what on earth are you hesitating for?"
"Think about it. All the slaves repatriated to the South are sent to a facility established by James Sett? It is the perfect setup for others to misunderstand that James Sett is lobbying the government to increase the number of slaves under his command."
"Ah... I suppose that could be the case."
"So, I recommend that you first implement that policy, and if problems arise, you seriously consider my advice."
If you doubt a person who takes care of you this meticulously, you are not a human, but a beast. Sure enough, Breckinridge looked at me like Liu Bei looking at Zhuge Liang, poured the wine he cherished, and handed it to me himself.
"I have talked to many politicians, including ministers, but I have never seen anyone who gives such clear answers as you. How about we talk a little longer tonight before you go?"
"If I may, it would be an honor."
"About that re-education facility you mentioned, if I were to actually build it, what name would be good?"
"If a name like 'slave' is included, the North will foam at the mouth and rise up, so a moderate name would be best. How about a name like the 'Sett Rehabilitation Center'?"
"Rehabilitation. That is a very good word. It will literally be an educational center for social reintegration. Thank you very much for sharing your good opinion."
I'm the one who should be thanking you. You're going to scrape together all your approval ratings and budget to supply future workers under me. You're going to build a new employee training center with federal funds, aren't you? I feel like I want to shout "Long live!" if I could. No, since everyone else will curse, shouldn't I at least shout it for this moment? Long live the President, long live, long live!
I spent the whole night drinking with Breckinridge, emptying his wine cellar. It was the most beautiful night for both him and me.