It's the Economy, You Idiot #1
I dragged every revolutionary preaching Asian liberation and every imperialist angling to crown me emperor by the collar straight into economic discourse. Anyway, now that we're pushing even more expansive fiscal policy, people's eyes were bound to roll back in their heads. Above all, injecting more currency into businesses that were always short on cash was welcome news like no other.
Everyone talked big about liberation and empire, but in the end, putting food on their own tables came first.
"Print it."
But Korea's sinister attempt to print its own currency hit a snag with Britain right from the start. Who had set up Korea's foreign exchange bank in the first place? Britain. They weren't thrilled about Korea opening a line of credit for their slush funds from the get-go. We'd bent our pride and made concessions—shouldn't we just obediently hand over the gold? And here we were, already scheming to line our own pockets?
Not that we could afford separate bedrooms just yet. Above all, could the British Empire fail to tame a single monkey? That was already a matter of prestige. Even the Indians would look up and think, "Oh, me too?"
So Britain decided to squeeze us hard.
'The joint Korean-German phosphate mining operation in Nauru is environmentally destructive and requires further investigation.'
Setting aside the fact that they themselves had planned to develop it, Britain blocked Korea's attempt to cozy up to Germany in the Pacific. If you wanted to do anything in the South Pacific, you had to go through Britain—and we'd climbed too high after one indulgence.
Of course, it didn't stop there.
'The joint Korean-American phosphate mining in South America is the same, and we express our regrets.'
America was like, "What the hell..." but they weren't about to fight Britain over partnering with Korea. Britain thus poured tea on our heads while spelling out what we needed to do as allies going forward: Send Chinese laborers to Australia, South Africa, Canada, and such to dig up gold. Naturally, the gold mined by the sweat of yellow-skinned folk would ship straight to London.
Truth be told, from London's perspective, they were done entrusting anything sensitive to those noisy Indians. They saw yellow races as a long-term alternative. 'At least they won't squawk as much as the Indians.'
Mixing carrot and stick like that, Britain kept telling Korea to ditch that bizarre French-style currency and just borrow gold from them instead. As allies, the interest would be cheap, they smiled. In our current situation, where we roughly knew each other's wallet sizes, it was comedy gold.
Of course, to that generous offer, the Supreme Leader—who believed he had gold reserves rivaling the Tsar—cheerfully agreed to borrow from London. Ideally, interest-free for 30 years. And he'd use it to redeem the Korean marks—no, Korean francs—being printed now and in the future.
'This bastard...'
When Korea didn't bend easily, Britain immediately stepped up the murder game. Britain had always been harsher on allies than enemies, after all.
'There's something fishy about the gold mined in Russia. It's leaking somewhere.'
Laborers dragged to Siberia got paid in gold and copper, which flowed straight into Korea and vanished from the earth's ledgers. The destination of that missing gold was obvious, so Britain was poking our side.
In the end, it was just a threat: "Keep acting cocky, and it'll get ugly."
"Supreme Leader, is this okay?"
"It's fine, it's fine."
To Britain's great regret, the Supreme Leader was the man who got strongest when they bluffed. In his view, Korea wasn't a rival to Britain like America or Germany. We were long-term merchandise to sell to—which was why they pushed so hard.
So now, with the mutual defense pact nullifying Britain's military threats, it was time to stiffen our necks. Like de Gaulle. We'd take a few hits, then extend the hand of reconciliation when things got urgent. What could they do otherwise?
Britain would abuse us like dogs behind closed doors but dress sharp, stuff gold in our pockets, and work together when needed. We had to look strong to negotiate strong. Bluffing was their way of life.
'Bring it on.'
The Supreme Leader didn't yield to Britain's coaxing or threats. Not even the veiled purge warnings.
'Purge me? I'm Korea's one and only pro-British figure. They know that.'
Instead, as they kept pinching, he leased the Busan new port site—the very one he'd promised to build if we listened—to America. Separately from giving us the port, they'd invest in a massive shipyard on Geoje Island. America planned long-term influence over Japan, the Philippines, and Korea via that port. Pouring coffee on British heads was purely the president's personal grudge—a clash of three massive egos with iron pride.
Naturally, Britain couldn't tolerate Korea printing Korean francs despite the talks, now panting after America too. Even they felt they'd endured this arrogance far too long. 'Impudence piercing the heavens.'
MacDonald himself came to deliver the ultimatum to this cheeky yellow man. You really want to get wrecked? Tired of running the country your way and dreaming of ruin later? I guarantee you won't like it. Recalculate the bill. Aren't you worried about this nation's future in ten years? It was a threat.
When Korea finally listened, Britain whispered each grievance: Cozying up to Russia and Germany? Holding hands with America? After allying with Britain? Sure, Britain wanted reconciliation with Russia, France, even Germany if possible—but that didn't mean "the dog can ignore its master."
Whispering about slush funds, missing gold, even pending warships one by one, the Supreme Leader finally yielded. He'd give it all up.
Surprisingly, these things rarely resolved through talk. So Britain was a bit flustered when we came to the table meekly, but satisfied too. We'd taken a hit, but they got what they wanted. Plus, confirmation we could talk. Toss a carrot, restore the status quo—they were sure they'd won. The gold loaned now? We'd pay double later.
Britain laughed.
...Until several months later, when Korea borrowed every ounce of British gold and started circulating the absurd financial product called CDO backed by it. Britain suddenly felt the next ten years together would be grueling. Maybe worse than India.
Not every job in Korea capped earnings strictly—there were rich folks.
'Play smart.'
Aside from a few idiots stashing precious Korean pounds in closets, Korea was surprisingly tolerant of the wealthy. In a system where free lunches were impossible, the rich were all self-made types in this cutthroat world. The world was kind to the strong, after all.
But even they felt Korea limited their options. Compared to Britain.
They couldn't withdraw cash from banks without reason, overseas investments required the domestic trust corporation, and the Supreme Leader tolerated no money laundering. Flaunting wealth was out—lest it breed social discord. At least, Imperial Japanese luxury goods stayed home.
Above all, earning money with money was okay, but chasing more with it? No. Businesses ran strictly on cooperatives, directed by members' collective will. Majority shareholders voted like minnows and took dividends.
Why? To the Supreme Leader—no, General Secretary—the rich in this gold standard era were all London-guided international mafia puppets or servants. Empower them? For whose benefit? In this age, being a "puppet" was purge-worthy alone. Even churchgoers got demerit bombs, barring public office. Loyalty to the Pope over state and citizens.
Result: Korean tycoons' assets weren't fully theirs. Selling cooperative-tied assets abroad? Restricted. Domestic or foreign trades only via trust corp—like a lottery. Couldn't even set prices freely.
Still, assets were assets. Ask if they'd skip being rich? Nah, they'd take it.
The Supreme Leader made building private wealth a grind but fiercely protected it once earned. He'd stake his life on inflation control, even slashing nationwide wages. But maybe that magnanimity was ending.
The Supreme Leader smiled at their fearful faces.
"Take them."
On the desk lay the real debts cooperatives had taken for real estate—bundled into CDOs, debt-backed securities.
Buy up as much as you can, smartly. Cooperatives couldn't fail in the Korean Empire, so yields were insultingly low. Pure low-risk, low-return. Less investment, more stock-like proxy currency.
They had to swap safe Korean pounds from banks into this paper. The rich exchanged glances: "Again...?"
But the goal was clear: Arm the Supreme Leader—no, Korea—with ample ammo.
He whispered:
'Wanna get hit? Or not? ...Gonna use sovereign currency, or not?'
Truth was, they had no choice.