The Arsenal of Democracy (4)
The existence of a Japanese submarine leisurely roaming the world's oceans had not yet been detected. No... more accurately, it was closer to the truth to say we could not detect it. If the Japanese government was doing everything in its power to hide it, the Syndicate's chances of uncovering that fact remained distant. And that was precisely why I had decided to make a new friend who could wield immense political influence in Japan. Although the Japan Communist Party was an illegal underground organization, Princess Chiyoko's reputation was second to none, easily rivaling any mainstream politician in the opposition.
While politicians like the current Prime Minister, Junichiro Koizumi, only engaged in public service for show, the prevailing consensus was that Princess Chiyoko did so with genuine sincerity. Granted, whenever the influence of the Japan Communist Party and Tokugawa Chiyoko crossed a certain threshold, establishment politicians launched all manner of schemes to castrate their power. Yet, the reason the Japan Communist Party could not be completely uprooted was the quiet, widespread support of the public. They could stomp on it to keep it from growing, but they could never truly kill it.
Therefore, if my sponsorship allowed Tokugawa Chiyoko and the Japan Communist Party to expand their power, the benefits I would reap were as clear as day. Japan was already suffering from a severe recession, spearheaded by the "Lost Decade." They say a rich man's wealth lasts for three generations even after ruin, but if one was looking for economic incentives, it was better to seek out a wealthy man in his prime rather than one on his third generation of decline. Thus, compared to the political influence I stood to gain, any mere economic incentive was nothing but a handful of dust.
For now, my Minister of Finance was raking in massive profits by parasitizing the Japanese stock market, but once Tokugawa Chiyoko's influence expanded, a reversal of fortunes was inevitable. And once that scale tipped, the gap would widen to an insurmountable degree.
In this distorted timeline, the national artifact Misoka was highly likely to be in Ezo—not South Japan. The fact that the national artifact had surfaced around the end of the war suggested that Misoka, buried in the snow country, had ended up outside the jurisdiction of the US Military Government and the newly formed Japanese government, unlike in the original history.
There was no way Stalin and his lackeys in the Soviet of Materialists would have failed to grasp the potential of a national artifact. There were more than enough reasons why the deployment of national artifacts to the front lines would have been accelerated compared to the original timeline.
Amidst this, Delis's interim report became the final nail in the coffin in locating the national artifact Misoka.
"In a document co-authored with the Ministry of Defense, not just the Ministry of Magic?"
"Yes, ma'am. There was a document left over from the Cuban Missile Crisis."
"What a bizarrely convenient piece of history to pop up. The Cuban Missile Crisis, of all things."
"At first, I was just skim-reading, but as I went on, more and more suspicious details caught my eye. It shared many similarities with the characteristics you described, Lady Yerina."
Autumn of 1962. A document from the very period when the world came closest to total annihilation since the start of the Cold War.
"So Misoka did cross over to Ezo, and the Soviets took it back to immediately weaponize it?"
"Your hypothesis appears to be correct. There was a brief mention of a Soviet submarine whose movements were suspiciously untraceable—something utterly inexplicable by conventional military logic."
"Mm-hmm. I suppose human ingenuity is pretty much the same across the board. It's exactly like before."
It seemed the Soviets, just like the Japan of my original history, had thought to cram an artifact capable of shielding acoustic and electromagnetic waves into a submarine. In a way, it was a form of magical convergent evolution.
"Exactly like before...? What do you mean by that...?"
"Oh, nothing. I just meant that if I had a weapon like that, I'd obviously install it on a submarine too."
As I brushed it off, Delis cleared her throat and continued her report.
"Since the findings aren't polished enough for a formal report yet, I wanted to brief you verbally first. The official document should be ready in about a week."
"Is that so? Then I'll leave it to you. I trust you, as always."
"..."
"Delis...?"
"...Ah, it's nothing. As always, I will meet your expectations, Lady Yerina."
Since we had covered everything worth discussing over an expensive satellite call, I was about to hang up.
"Um... Lady Yerina, by any chance...?"
"Yes, what is it?"
Her voice sounded as if she had been agonizing over something for a long time. I tilted my head and asked.
"Only if it's possible, of course... but could I ask you to have Pavel say what you just said to me...?"
"Huh...? No, no, that's not how it works. If you want Pavel to say it, you should ask him directly, not me."
"...Ah, of course. You're right."
Though I had raised my voice slightly in sheer bewilderment, it wasn't an impossible request. Provided Pavel was willing, of course.
"So she says. Pavel? Will you do it?"
"...It is not impossible. Certainly."
Even as he spoke, Pavel's expression betrayed a hint of inner reluctance. It didn't seem like a particularly difficult favor, so I wondered why he was hesitating. After a brief silence, Pavel spoke up.
"Then I shall oblige. I trust you, as always, Blumfeld."
"Oh."
"I feel deeply trusted. Thank you, Lady Yerina. And thank you, Pavel."
Unlike before when I was the one trying to hang up, this time Delis hurriedly cut the line with a sharp beep.
Hmm...
I pondered for a moment if there was any particular reason for her reaction, but decided it wasn't worth dwelling on. Right now, I had a mountain of other problems to worry about. Most notably:
"It seems the national artifact you are targeting is not in Ezo, but in the Soviet Union itself, Milady."
"Whew... Yeah. I thought I'd cleared a hill, only to find a mountain blocking my path."
Just as Pavel said, things would have been much easier if Misoka were being operated by a submarine from Ezo, a mere satellite state, or even—though it was a long shot—by the Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Force.
It was still unknown how the barrier enveloping the entire Eastern Bloc detected me. In other words, I had to keep devising ways to conceal my presence using every conceivable method.
When you thought about it, Spiegel and the Rosetta Stone were national artifacts meant to serve as countermeasures after my presence was exposed in the midst of chaos. The former was a tool to force my way through when all kinds of interference were concentrated on me, while the latter was a means to prevent me from taking a fatal blow amidst that interference.
"For now, we must steel ourselves and regroup. Blumfeld did say she would organize the Ministry of Defense documents soon."
Yet, my only method for avoiding detection inside the barrier in the first place was the perception-impeding magic I had obtained back in Namyeong-dong.
And there's no guarantee that will even work against that mysterious barrier...
It was precisely because of this predicament that I had come looking for Misoka on a whim, but...
"Now that our opening has vanished, what a headache."
Still, my primary objective of making a new friend had been more than accomplished.
Dawn passed, and evening returned. I met with Tokugawa Chiyoko once again and flaunted our military might.
"I told you there was no need for the Secretary-General to worry, didn't I? It's a relief. Now your party members won't have to worry about dying from a stray yakuza bullet."
"..."
"Now, shall we discuss something more constructive? For instance... building a foundation where the Communist Party can engage in parliamentary activities without fear."
The legalization of the Japan Communist Party was a dream these people had harbored ever since the days of the Empire. Sometimes aligning with anarchists, other times with the "rebellious Koreans" in the colonies. Unlike the original history, where the threat of communism did not directly loom over the archipelago, in this world, they had been forced to remain an illegal underground organization for a grueling seventy-five years.
"...I highly doubt that is possible."
Tokugawa Chiyoko's sigh-laden response reflected this long, arduous history. It was a self-deprecating scoff—how could they possibly overcome what their revolutionary predecessors had failed to achieve despite seventy-five years of relentless struggle? I decided to shatter that defeatism first.
"Secretary-General, do you know how a circus trains an elephant?"
"A circus... you say?"
Her expression was utterly blank. She was likely wondering why I was bringing up such a random topic out of the blue.
"When a baby elephant is first sold to a circus, the trainers tie it with a rope to a heavy wooden stake driven deep into the ground."
"...And?"
"An elephant it may be, but a baby is still a baby. It pulls with all its might, but the rope doesn't break, and the stake doesn't budge."
It was the classic concept of learned helplessness.
"Even when that elephant grows into a massive adult, the memory of its childhood remains. Though it possesses more than enough strength to break free, it never even tries to escape."
This seemed to be exactly what the Japanese government was aiming for. Passionate communists, once burning with the desire to change the world, would crash against the wall of reality one by one until their spirits broke. If this cycle repeated, the Japan Communist Party, starved of new blood, would stagnate over time, turning into a handful of helpless old-timers before naturally fading into obsolescence.
Sure, there would be the occasional fiery zealot. But for them, the government only needed to deploy yakuza and political thugs to make them realize their limits firsthand. A few passionate individuals were far too insignificant to turn the tide.
"I am well aware that our party is in that position. However, unlike the elephant in your example, Miss Bronska, we are still bound by a very thick rope."
"You mean the moment you get a bit of breathing room, they immediately move to suppress you?"
"...You understand well."
How could I not? With the bursting of the economic bubble, the resulting backlash had caused the Japanese public's perception of communism to shift favorably to the left. It was similar to how Americans flirted with red ideals during the Great Depression of the 1920s. In an era overflowing with skepticism toward capitalism, that disillusionment naturally manifested as a surge in communist sympathizers. Having found their answer in history, the Japanese government had seemingly begun to crack down on the Communist Party with laser focus to nip such a situation in the bud.
Under these circumstances, it was hardly surprising that a newcomer like Tokugawa Chiyoko would succumb to despair so quickly. However, I merely offered a coy, dismissive smile.
"What seems like an insurmountable crisis to one person is often nothing but a triviality to another."
Tokugawa Chiyoko's expression stiffened slightly. She was likely offended that I was trivializing the dire predicament she and her party faced.
"Don't get angry, listen to me. I know exactly what you're thinking. But Secretary-General, didn't you just see it?"
"I don't know how powerful your position is within the Communist Party, but at the very least, my subordinate is far stronger than you... or rather, than Tokugawa Chiyoko."
"Besides, isn't it a waste? You've finally gained a mysterious benefactor like me, yet you're just going to whine and console yourself with 'it can't be helped' like you always do?"
I stared straight into Tokugawa Chiyoko's eyes as I poured out my words. In a situation like this, my Charm would work wonders, even against a mage walking her own unique path of magic. No, in truth, I didn't even need Charm. What was required now was sincerity; Charm was merely the key to lowering her guard so that my sincerity could slip through. I continued to stir ripples in the heart of the Red Princess.
"I admit it. If you accept my sponsorship, the establishment's pressure on the Communist Party will only grow fiercer."
"But I can sever every single rope they try to bind you with."
"Actually, I don't even need to step in myself. Do you really think I only have one subordinate capable of single-handedly crushing yakuzas and mafiosos who act like kings in their own backyards?"
"Ahaha, surely you don't still think of my company as a mere trading firm, do you?"
Having delivered my speech, I slid off the sofa. The sharp click of my heels echoed softly in the room, and soon, the princess's black hair brushed against my platinum-blonde locks. I wondered what she was feeling right now. A fleeting shudder crossed her face. I leaned in and whispered softly in her ear.
"Struggle all you want. I'll cut the ropes for you."