The Economy's the Real Problem, You Idiot #7
The issue was the economy, you fool. At this moment when Germany was rising and Britain declining, the German Kaiser grew ever more vocal about his Weltpolitik. The Kaiser's High Seas Fleet kept expanding day by day, along with its ever-increasing tonnage. War was inevitable. That's what Britain thought.
But what if it came down to battleship against battleship? Even a victory would mean heavy losses at minimum. Battleships weren't easy to replace. Above all, Britain couldn't afford to lose any—if they did, it was over. So the number one—no, number two—naval power, Britain, planned to sweet-talk third-place France into a joint land-and-sea war against Germany.
France, directly threatened by the top dog, was desperate for it too. Their alliance was just a matter of time—hell, it was already counting down. But that didn't mean they suddenly got along. With so much bad blood piled up, words between them meant nothing.
In that sense, the Korean Empire gave France a huge wake-up call. A coastal fleet, a continental power, a land army juggernaut—and an enemy just as formidable. Especially since Korea had beaten them to the punch by allying with Britain first.
France saw Korea as a litmus test for Britain. Lord Arthur caught on. And he figured out why the Supreme Leader had so obediently hunkered down in Paris like a pushover.
This bastard's using Paris as a bargaining chip!
Arthur was genuinely, utterly shocked. The upcoming Anglo-French negotiations were known only to the king, the cabinet, and a handful of diplomats. Yet this Oriental had sniffed it out and was slyly exploiting the rift in their thinking to pursue his own gains.
If they weren't in Paris right now, he'd have shown this Easterner the bitter taste of fear. But at least in Paris, that wasn't an option. France would see it as a direct threat to themselves.
Arthur broke out in a cold sweat, staring at the Supreme Leader's impassive face. You need to convince France—how do you think you can blackmail Korea? Blackmailing Korea would look like blackmailing France. Even claiming it was just against an Oriental wouldn't fly. Just as Britain didn't trust France, France wouldn't trust British words. Only actions. And if it weren't for this crisis, they probably wouldn't trust actions either.
What if he blackmailed the Supreme Leader right now? He'd scream bloody murder. Claim it was blackmail against the alliance. Rejecting it would be the same—he'd bellow that it violated their agreement. And it'd spread like wildfire through French high society.
That ridiculous promise to return Hong Kong to China—which Britain had never made, but at this point, it didn't matter. France would harp on it forever, doubting British intentions, forcing Britain into major concessions. Like the Entente Cordiale.
He had no choice but to admit it. At least in this place, this moment, his throat was in the Supreme Leader's grip.
"If I request mediation between your two nations here, it'll clearly be seen as orders from London or Paris. So I just hope this looks like a deal at minimum."
'If you want to ask me here, it has to be in the form of a transaction.'
Korea slowly pried open Britain's jugular.
'Speak.'
Britain's throat opened.
"Oh."
"Hon"
"Hongk"
"Hong Kong…"
"I'll sound out my country about selling Hong Kong."
"Sound out buying Qingdao too. The Supreme Leader says he's open to selling."
If it was framed as exchanging Qingdao from Korea for selling Hong Kong to China, the home government might consider it. Then the cabinet wouldn't hold a grudge against Korea. Might call them arrogant, sure.
The problem was that it came straight from the Supreme Leader's mouth. He knew exactly where to strike, timed it perfectly, got what he wanted while controlling the pace flawlessly. Arthur glimpsed how this man ruled that vast land without a hitch.
Why no one but Britain wanted awkward talks with him. America, Japan, China—they'd all been stabbed deep in the lungs somewhere Britain didn't know about. And now respected Korea out of startled fear.
For the first time, Arthur shed his contempt for Orientals. King Edward had said to avoid the slush fund issue if possible—and damn if it wasn't good advice. He had to see His Highness.
The Anglo-French talks were no one's big picture but Edward's. Arthur felt a mission to report this first.
"Man, this Paris subway's something else."
"You should have seen the Paris Olympics back then, Your Excellency. And the Expo too."
"Is that so? Then Korea can send athletes to the next Olympics?"
"Of course! We'll be waiting."
"What's an Expo, anyway?"
"World's Fair. Where all the civilizations and technologies of the world gather."
"Cool name."
"Are you… planning something?"
"Nah, Korea's not advanced enough yet. We still believe in ancestor spirits."
"Hahaha, I believe you'll get here soon."
"Thanks for the faith. I hope Christ's grace descends on unbelievers like me too."
Killing time in Paris, I finally met my friend.
"I told you not to eat weird stuff you find."
"Couldn't help it."
"I said ignore what the Japanese say too."
"Yeah."
"And don't get close to anyone you hate enough to make Prime Minister."
"First time hearing that one."
Hey, hand guy! Is that the point right now!?
I rescued Sun Yat-sen from the Tower of London and finally boarded the ship home. Honestly, I was worried. Like I said, I don't trust Britain at all. So I couldn't leave Paris until I personally escorted him.
"So, happy with Hong Kong?"
"Too expensive…"
"Expensive, but worth it. Chinese sovereignty, right? Or sell it to me? I'll buy."
"No way!"
He clutched Hong Kong deep to his chest, vowing never to lose it again. Don't get me wrong—I don't like Chinese people. No, they're latent traitors and separatists. Why would I?
From the start, when founding the Korean Empire, I planned to hunt down that future Chinese leader Mao Zedong and kill him. But I don't even know if Mao Zedong is his real name.
That was harder than finding Yu Gwan-sun among the Yu clan. I tried, but no dice. Why do you think I don't use SSR independence activists? My shallow history knowledge means I don't even know if Baekbeom Kim Gu is real.
Please show up as 'Baekbeom Kim Gu' in front of me, sir! Should've studied modern Korean history instead of Western.
Anyway, I gave up erasing future Mao from the earth. Instead, I decided on preemptive 'quarantine' to stop reactionary scum like him.
CCP. Chinese Communist Party. From what I know, they suck pus from impoverished Chinese peasants.
So how to stop it? Make Chinese farmers rich and fed. Obvious answer: Saemaul Undong.
So I restrained industrialization and urbanization a bit, pushing local development, regional autonomy, cooperatives, and farm production. Added rationing to boost demand for farm goods, turned it into booze, and dumped it cheap worldwide.
All to eradicate poor peasants and boot the CCP. Yeah, one communist was enough for Korea—no, Asia. Actually, all Asian communists should follow Pyongyang's lead. Me, who'd proudly hung my nameplate at the Second International.
'Rather than rigid classes, we—who can move between them with comrades' support after class deformation—are the true communists.'
He pushed social democracy in the soft Second International, and shockingly, it passed. Plenty of crazier folks.
Korea got dubbed 'revisionist' there. Heretic but not pagan—exactly.
'Keep riding the communist wave, ditch the Soviets and dump all the aggro on them, then grab America's hand and go capitalist.'
By then, post-world war, tech and economy would be solid, and non-imperial Chinese gone from the world.
That's it. No CCP allowed. If they rise, all my premises crumble.
So if Hong Kong was a potential CCP threat, he could wrench it from London's jaws.
"Stop the war."
That abstract order echoed across the continent. The war halted that day.
As the Leader returned to Pyongyang, a massive curtain fell over the continent again. No one cared that Yuan Shikai—who'd dared eye the throne without London's prior okay—crossed paths with Sun inside that veil, spewing death rattles as he was dragged to London.