Winners Command Armies, Losers Become Rebels: The Anglo-Korean Alliance
I knew a post-apocalypse—no, a world war—was coming soon, so even hinting at it felt like too much. Why form an alliance at all? This was an era where just breathing would build national strength. Look at America; their golden age kicked off right around then. So why not just let the alliance lapse right before the world war? Not a bad idea. The problem was, Britain would never allow it. That country would pull every trick to block a free lunch. They'd plaster the treaty with poison pills in anticipation.
Best to just stay apart. The Korean Empire and the British Empire? What an ill-matched pair. But if I opposed it outright, they'd brand me a revisionist in a heartbeat. Britain had promised too much. Rejecting it would be as good as saying, "I oppose it just because it's Britain." Which, to be fair, was true on both sides.
So I played along naturally, giving my approval. "Truth be told, I've been waiting for this."
"Is that so? Then I should have brought it sooner."
I eyed the alliance treaty like I was ready to sign on the spot, then paused at one clause. Of course you'd pull this. The Supreme Leader's finger landed on the currency swap—specifically, the gold swap provision.
"Isn't this too favorable to poor little Korea?"
"Do you think so? Then you can't refuse it. Making offers no one can turn down is our specialty."
"Above all, Korea has joined the world order under Britain's lead. We bear some responsibility."
"Still, it won't do. A treaty skewed so heavily to one side can't last."
"It's our goodwill. Please accept it."
"Very well, then."
...Huh? Just like that? MacDonald looked flustered. The biggest hurdle had cleared unexpectedly easily, leaving him inwardly rattled.
"But if that's the case, then this is odd." The Supreme Leader's finger drifted higher, right to the title: "Anglo-Korean Alliance."
"Korea is a regional power that can't influence the whole world, but Britain is a global hegemon. Binding these two in a mutual defense pact feels off."
"It's blatantly to Korea's advantage. Korea only has to aid Britain in East Asia, but Britain must aid Korea anywhere in the world."
"I've already accepted one favor; I can't take another. This is a matter of Korean pride."
Dodging it like this? MacDonald now knew for sure his opponent was no pushover. A defensive alliance instead of mutual defense would give Korea wiggle room on joining a war against China—room for "interpretation." Mutual defense meant automatic entry; defensive left options open. Faced with the pressure to drop one or the other, MacDonald let out a groan. He'd never expected Korea to challenge the mutual defense pact itself. Britain had assumed Korea couldn't refuse—it would be a slap to their face. But claiming it hurt their pride made rebuttal tricky. They couldn't very well say it offended British pride after Korea raised the issue first.
'Give a little, then slyly lock in the hint. Tough customer.' If anything, it solidified his resolve. He had to drag this under the spotlight somehow.
"Very well. A defensive alliance it is. But this is quite unforeseen, so signing here is difficult. The name needs changing, for starters."
"Agreed. I've waited this long; a bit more is no issue."
"No, come with me. Unless those earlier words were false?"
What?
"Truthfully, this breaks Britain's long isolation too. If the Supreme Leader visits London personally, His Majesty the King of the United Kingdom will receive you in person."
...? An utterly unforeseen proposal. But no escape hatch.
"Understood. I'll make sure to visit."
After MacDonald, having scored a win, departed for Hamburger Land, Foreign Minister Lee Wan-yong listened quietly to the Supreme Leader.
"Will you really go?"
"I have to."
"Hmm..."
"Of course, not alone." If I went solo, every spotlight would blind me. No thanks.
"While we're at it, let's drag all these East Asian all-stars along."
I planned to bail for "stomach issues" once in London, claiming the water didn't agree. Britons couldn't even politely claim their tap water was fine!
"Won't that fall short?"
"Then..."
"This calls for deploying the Emperor."
"...Use him?"
"Yes."
"You're serious?"
"It's what he always harps on: the Anglo-Korean Alliance."
"So he'll be eager?"
"Exactly." Fair enough... but still.
"Even so, actually using that guy?"
"Not to that extent."
True. I'd cut all his blunders anyway. No personal grudge. He had his competent moments. But the Gojong I knew was a loser of his era. Hand him something this critical?
"Besides, the treaty's already hashed out at the staff level."
"So just have him announce it?"
"Right." Still felt off...
"Anything to shield the Supreme Leader's image requires at least the Emperor stepping out."
True. He didn't even register in my head, but Europeans would value the Emperor's name over the Supreme Leader's. Hmm... not bad? Use the Emperor as a human shield? Finally earning his keep?
For the first time in ages, I let myself hope.
Gathered were many Asians and representatives from Britain's Asian colonies. They'd boarded British liners to London. Not the London Triad Society—the London Conference, newly established that year. And so the speeches began. Culminating in the Anglo-Korean Alliance.
I doubted my ears. "If my hearing's not shot, did he just say 'alliance'?"
"Yes, he did."
I felt like shouting "For the Horde!" any second.
"Does our esteemed Emperor not know the difference between an alliance and a mutual defense treaty?"
"If he does and says it anyway, that's worse."
"Eh, doesn't matter. The treaty I signed yesterday is unambiguously a mutual defense treaty."
"My apologies."
"What can you do? We'll roll with it."
"I won't suggest using the Emperor again."
"I said it's fine."
Better this than my face going public in civilized society, fodder for the marines to chew on.
"The Supreme Leader is quite the eccentric."
"Is that so? Doesn't feel that way to me."
"Normally, those face veils are for ladies."
"Really? Korea's the same. This is just a man's black hat with a dark veil—half right, half wrong, technically."
"Black hat? Veil?"
"Something like that. I just don't like showing my face to disorderly crowds."
"Ah, fair enough."
"My position's elected by the people, sure, but that doesn't mean I have to like every aspect of them."
"I entirely agree."
Agree to what, you money-grubbing electoral plutocracy? I bit back a retort. By this era's standards, Korea's limited suffrage and shareholder voting made us the odd case.
"But you'll have to remove it soon."
"Why?"
"His Majesty Edward is arriving. Surely a gentleman like the Supreme Leader won't keep his hat on before him?"
...? Gojong was way over there, but coming here...? What a speechless situation, but I had no choice—I removed my hat.
"Such a handsome man; why hide your face so fiercely?"
"You skipped 'for an Oriental,' Sir MacDonald."
"Haha, no need for 'Sir' in Britain. I'm here as ambassador to Korea."
I said nothing more, waiting hatless for the king. What could I do? He was coming... I had low expectations of Britons anyway, so resignation came quick.
Edward. Theodore too, Edward too... the fat boys' golden age. Fat Edward cut straight to it upon arrival.
"MacDonald says you're quite the smoker."
"A bit, yeah. Care for one?" I pulled out my prized Cuban cigar.
"Cuban."
"Ooh, Cuban!"
"Hard to get since America's occupied it—a real luxury."
America left him speechless; Edward took the Cuban from MacDonald and lit up.
"Truth be told, I came hoping for this."
"I brag about it to MacDonald often."
"Hmm? What's that?"
Ah, this? My custom-designed, personally developed oil lighter—the world's first at this point. Just borrowed the flint principle from abroad. That was it, really.
"A smoker's best friend for borrowing fire." I stylishly lit up before Edward. He stared silently.
Hm... MacDonald's face screamed, What are you doing? Without a word, I handed my closest companion to him.
"Here, try one."
To reiterate, I expected no morality from Britons. So the tribute came swift.