The Chairman's Bloodline
I made my way to the notified location at the notified date and time, just as the chairman of the Special Committee for National Reconstitution had so graciously seen fit to inform me.
I don't particularly enjoy having other people dictate my movements.
I like being the one who ties strings to others and moves them around like marionettes — the reverse arrangement is simply not my taste.
The only thing keeping my patience intact was the prospect of finally meeting one of this country's highest-ranking officials in person.
Even if I can't use Charm directly, just getting face-to-face with him will be useful in itself.
Regardless of the nation, anyone who has climbed to a high position possesses some degree of magical resistance, even if they're not a mage themselves.
This is because local mages who have gotten close to them constantly present various relics as gifts in exchange for the perks that come with power.
The specifics varied from country to country, and this variation was primarily shaped by the form of government.
The closer a nation was to democracy, the fewer mages attached themselves to it; the more dictatorial, the more mages clung to it.
The reason was obvious enough — in a dictatorship, a single person could feast for far longer.
In a democratic nation, you had to switch horses every four or five years, but in a dictatorship, if you just held onto the right rope, you could live as a trusted confidant for twenty, thirty years, riding high the whole time.
Of course, even in a democratic nation, a long tenure in power naturally breeds something approaching a "faction."
Margaret Thatcher, whom I brought under my heel, was a perfect example of that.
If I had tried to take Britain head-on from the start, I would have had to smash the Ministry of Magic first, then wage a fierce magical battle in Westminster.
It would have been an urban war in the heart of London against British special forces operatives and the skilled mages attached to them.
I could picture the desperate scene clearly — deflecting machine-gun fire with defensive magic, dragging attack helicopters out of their hover with Shattenmädchen, pulling tank crews out of their vehicles to use Charm on them.
The reason Britain never actually descended into a quasi-civil war was because I had stolen the name of the Minister of Magic and reduced Prime Minister Thatcher's vigilance to virtually zero.
Thanks to that, I was able to seize Britain while completely ignoring the close-protection system that had served Thatcher throughout her nearly twenty years in power.
By now, some of the mages who made up that protection system had submitted to my authority, while the remainder who couldn't be won over still worked for Margaret Thatcher alone.
From my perspective, they were subcontractors' subcontractors — aside from the lack of a direct chain of command, there was nothing particularly bothersome about it.
In any case, the chairman I was about to meet would almost certainly be accompanied by a mage escort when he came to see me.
Ever since the Soviet Union had risen to prominence through its magical surge via the Council of Materialists, mage countermeasures had become "always necessary" for political leaders.
If you only prepared for a specific moment, how would you know whether a Soviet spy mage might infiltrate and shake the leaders' psyches with mental contamination magic?
Those manipulated individuals might very well press the nuclear missile button — or order someone else to press it.
Naturally, this was something that had to be prevented in advance.
Therefore, on the day of our meeting, there was a fair chance that my Charm would not be particularly effective.
In principle, when dealing with mages who had even a little magical resistance, I could still lean in close, maintain eye contact, and whisper a "command" — that wouldn't be impossible.
But in that case, I'd be effectively advertising to the guards loitering nearby that "I am a mage."
From that moment on, my cover identity as the British Irene Ronska would be openly branded as a target across the entire magical world, including South Korea.
The only ones who would benefit from such a move would be the Soviet Union and the Council of Materialists. By any measure, it was a method with no value worth attempting.
***
The meeting with the chairman, whose nearly bald head was truly striking, could only take place after waiting another fortnight.
A fortnight, really. My time is so precious day by day — I wondered whether the payoff would be worth it.
With these doubts in my heart, Pavel and I drove to the hotel in Seoul that Chairman Jeon Doo-gwang had designated as our meeting place.
"He's a difficult man to meet. We almost had to storm Yeouido."
"At least while you were here, you solidified the Korean branch, isn't that right? I think that's sufficient."
We had wasted nearly a fortnight, but that didn't mean I'd been idle the whole time.
Originally, I had been planning to leave Korean soil quickly and delegate most tasks to my subordinates who remained behind.
After all, the rest of the organization could carry out their missions without me.
Wiping out local gangsters and establishing the area as a firm stronghold of the branch — that sort of thing was generally not something I needed to do personally.
Was I supposed to... use this spare time... for that?
But the chairman's arbitrarily set appointment time had forced me to move during this gap.
Still, since my personal involvement had reduced the burden on the Korean branch subordinates, it wasn't entirely a bad thing.
As Pavel and I exchanged words in Russian, we had somehow already arrived at the inner lobby of the hotel.
"How about it? Can you see any mages?"
"I can sense quite a few. I can't be certain unless they cast magic first, but I can tell by instinct."
The lobby was scattered with what I presumed were guards the chairman had deployed. Some of them looked likely to be mages.
Unless magic was actively being cast, there was no way for mages to recognize one another.
The exception was my Charm, embedded in my eyeballs and perpetually in an incomplete standby state.
One could argue it was always active, but even a skilled mage would have difficulty detecting the magic from just one or two glances.
In that regard, surprise attacks were a highly effective tactic in mage-versus-mage combat.
When a mage attempted to attack with magic, the opponent could only prepare during the brief moment when the magic traces rippled.
That was also why I carried the improved Rosetta Stone — by embedding an early-warning function into the relic itself, independent of any magic a mage might cast, I could counter an opponent's surprise attack.
Therefore, it was always wise to keep a close eye on anyone suspected of being a mage when on the enemy's home ground.
After all, weak mages who didn't do that had all died. It was tacit knowledge passed down implicitly among mages over the past several thousand years.
I turned my gaze to the bald man occupying the large sofa in the center of the lobby. He looked considerably more ragged than I had seen in the media — his head was far more completely bald.
Chairman Jeon Doo-gwang confirmed this side as well, then greeted Pavel and me in halting English.
"Welcome! Welcome to the Republic of Korea, Mr. Choi, and Ms. Ronska."
"You already know our names."
"Don't worry about such trivial matters! This is all the first step toward a constructive relationship between our country and your company!"
...Why was he so confident?
No matter how I looked at it, the atmosphere and the name of the person who had shown up made it blatantly obvious that he was trying to intimidate foreign businessmen who knew nothing about the situation.
If this man had been an extremely ordinary businessman, he would have fallen for that trick immediately.
Believing the promise that paying a certain percentage of "donations" would clear all regulations and everything else.
If the contract terms are documented, we can expose them to the press if things go wrong? In this country, that would be utterly meaningless.
That was because, from its very inception, this was a nation where the press was used as a puppet by the government.
Even if exposed to the press, there would be little reaction within South Korea, and even if foreign media picked up the news, it would take considerable time before the situation could be resolved.
An ordinary company would not be able to endure a process that took ten years and would simply decide to withdraw from the Korean market entirely.
Naturally, leaving the stripped-away interests in the pockets of Korean officials.
But Schwetzin-Oder Logistics was not an ordinary company.
Setting aside the secrets hidden behind the world, economically it was a company that Britain effectively operated directly.
It was practically the embodiment of stability with zero risk of bankruptcy.
For Schwetzin-Oder Logistics to fall into financial difficulties, Britain would have to perish or a worldwide depression would have to occur.
And besides, was Yerina Bronska, the owner of this shell company, some weakling? I was confident I would not back down in a clash of wills.
So I became curious — would these people really use the method I had imagined?
I instructed Pavel to open the conversation with the chairman first.
Just as I had done when dealing with that piglet in Northern Ireland whose name I couldn't even remember, Pavel held the nominally higher rank, so he would lead.
Unlike Hong Kong, this time we were concealing Pavel's Ministry of Magic identity externally and presenting only his Schwetzin-Oder Logistics identity, so there was no risk of our personas getting mixed up and causing confusion.
"Nice to meet you, Chairman Jeon. I am Pavel Nikolayevich Choi, Vice President of Schwetzin-Oder Logistics. Please call me Vice President Choi."
"The pleasure is mine. Schwetzin-Oder Logistics! What an honor to have such distinguished guests visit our country."
The gilded bald man who didn't match the title at all then glanced briefly in my direction. His gaze carried the lust that was the exclusive property of males looking at me.
"Ah, I'm sorry for the late introduction. This is my secretary, Irene Ronska."
"A secretary, I see."
I nodded at Pavel. No need to waste time — let's get straight to the point.
"Yes, but Chairman, may I ask why you wanted to meet with mere businessmen like us?"
"Ah. Before I answer that, let me ask you a question first. Vice President, what do you think is the most dangerous thing to guard against in a capitalist society?"
A sudden question. Pavel turned to look at me, his eyes asking "How should I answer?" but I shook my head.
That was a question Pavel could figure out on his own. Judging from the way he was asking, it seemed the chairman already had a desired answer in mind.
Pavel slowly opened his mouth.
"Well... Communists, I suppose? Communists multiply if you look away for even a moment — they're like cancerous tumors to businessmen."
"Haha, correct! As expected of someone in business, you don't beat around the bush — very straightforward!"
The chairman seemed very pleased with Pavel's answer. Yes, I thought the same — that was probably the model answer.
"But... why such a sudden question...?"
"The truth is, I've heard that your company is planning to enter our country, so I came out to verify whether it's true."
"It is true, but... I don't see why the chairman of the Special Committee for National Reconstitution would need to come personally for that."
"There's a reason for that too. It's a bit embarrassing, but our economic indicators last year weren't very good, were they? The President believes this deficit can be greatly increased through foreign investment."
Right, now we're getting to the main point.
"Thinking about it, it's not a bad condition for your company either. What's the most fundamental principle of free trade? Comparative advantage, isn't it?"
"Well... you're right. Our logistics company's entry into the Korean market is also to take advantage of relatively cheap labor."
As far as I knew, that bald man wasn't particularly sharp. The fact that he was speaking English so fluently suggested he had a script.
"But there is a slight obstacle in that process. The President agrees that it's good for foreign companies to enter the Korean market and share benefits, but he has stated that this issue must be resolved first."
"What issue is that?"
"It's a bit difficult to say outright..."
"It's fine, go ahead."
After a couple of polite refusals, the chairman finally opened his mouth.
"Hmm, it's the fact that Vice President Choi, who is expected to rise to a very high position in Schwetzin-Oder Logistics' Korean branch, has... a bit of Communist blood in his lineage."
"...Excuse me?"
Hmm? At that moment, Pavel and I shared an expression of utter bewilderment. What did bloodline have to do with anything?
"No, no, please don't misunderstand and listen carefully. The fact that Vice President Choi is of Soviet descent is something that comes up with just a little investigation, isn't it?"
After building up this unknown buildup to such an extent, the bald chairman finally placed the period.
"As Vice President Choi knows, the most vicious pests in this capitalist society are Communists. From the question I just asked, I've learned that you share this view."
"So, if Schwetzin-Oder Logistics wants to conduct business in our country, Vice President Choi must clearly demonstrate that he takes a different stance from the Soviet Reds... that's what I mean."
For a moment, I was completely dumbfounded.
These crazy bastards had run out of excuses to squeeze us, so now they were raising issues about bloodline?