Wings of Freedom #1
After the Qing-Zhong War of 1904 concluded in a provisional ceasefire between the two nations—brokered behind the Supreme Leader's curtain—factions emerged who desperately did not want this truce to harden into an "eternal ceasefire."
"There's no hope for the Zhonghua Republic like this." Wuhan, provisionally occupied by the Qing this time, was far too vital a territory for the Zhonghua Republic. Unlike Korea, which had been content punching through the eastern coastal railway all the way to Guangzhou—no, even Hong Kong—Wuhan sat at the heart of the railway network that the Zhonghua Republic had directly invested in. That's right. Wuhan was the Zhonghua Republic's Moscow. Why else would Yuan Shikai eye swallowing up Chang'an? It was because he could pour every ounce of strength into Wuhan and launch a surprise strike from there.
But now, that very railway hub had fallen into enemy hands. Suddenly, the fear was that armies might pour out from Wuhan in every direction. Nanjing could no longer challenge Chang'an. Hell, it couldn't even dream of defiance anymore. China, which had once eyed Chang'an with predatory hunger, now found itself the prey, with Nanjing under constant threat. And as a bonus, that southern outpost of Guangzhou was half a no-man's-land without the Korean coastal railway soon to be laid down.
But it wasn't just a military issue. "Save us." "The country's done for at this rate!" The collapse of the railway network had choked off the flow of goods. For a China that had been gingerly stepping into modernization, this was nothing short of catastrophe.
"What do you even have left if you take the railways out of modernization?" "Hell if I know, fuck that noise."
It was a crisis from the republic's very infancy. In this dire strait, the factions scrambled in every direction for a savior.
"We must rally around Teacher Sun!" "Hong Kong has returned to the people's hands! Long live Sun Yat-sen, leader of the Zhonghua people!"
They were truly desperate. China, which had held a 4-3 edge, had been flipped to 3-4 by Yuan Shikai's blunder. No, judging by the momentum, the country was on the brink of collapse. It was just a ceasefire, after all—not a full peace treaty. The factions seized this opening to rail against provincial rebellions and the illegitimacy of the government.
"Change the rail gauge?" "Wuhan's been occupied! At this rate, Qing scum could reach anywhere in China!" "That's not the point! Teacher Sun would oppose it too."
"He's not chairman yet! I'm the acting one!" "What power do you, Yuan Shikai's proxy, even have? Step down now!" "No way!"
But contrary to the Zhonghua people's and factions' fervent calls for unity against the Qing, the breakdown of the railway network weakened central control. China—or rather, its provinces—began showing signs of splintering into alliances on the scale of the Anti-Dong Zhuo Coalition. In other words, disintegration by province.
"Looks like it's fucked, right?" "Fucked, totally fucked."
These were puppet states propped up by foreigners from the start. Local bigwigs who could fart in the face of those foreigners and their puppet governments refused to bow. And now control had collapsed? From that moment, they dreamed of autonomy. Look at the neighbor—they ran their own show just fine under self-rule, and these guys figured they could too.
But in this revolutionary chaos—before he could even claim the chairmanship—the guy who saw his country crumbling, the pleas from those Chinese kids begging "please help us," and above all, the directive from London saying "this would be no fun," got the Supreme Leader moving again.
What really got under his skin was talk of "changing the rail gauge." So the Supreme Leader hired exactly 300,000 workers—neither more nor less—right there on the ground in each Chinese province. Korea held railway construction rights, which allowed employing locals for the job. Then he turned those 300,000 laborers into a self-defense force. Perfectly legal under the construction rights, which permitted guards.
"What do you mean, different gauge?" And Korea hadn't spent a dime. It was all Chinese money. Whether hailed as leader or not, Sun Yat-sen's full-body prostration over Hong Kong and his blank check had been accepted by the Supreme Leader, making it possible.
With the Supreme Leader stepping in as firefighter, the revolutionary fervor sweeping China fell silent in an instant. Officially, it was an "investment" to urgently rebuild the half-shattered railway network. But everyone knew the truth. Local powers, once dismissive of both the West and China, bowed their heads to the Supreme Leader's razor-sharp intimidation.
Above all, they had no guts to defy a madman who armed 300,000 right in their backyards—not by shipping in troops by rail. If he wanted, he could purge them tomorrow without a peep. Just the glint of his sword half-drawn from its sheath had them sweating bullets.
They hurriedly sent telegrams pledging cooperation with the elections, slamming their heads in submission, all while wondering, "How the hell does he wield this much control in someone else's country?"
"What the fuck is he?" Sure, the situation was what it was, and he'd thrown money around. But money alone couldn't buy everything. Even these local hotshots lacked the confidence to arm 300,000 for self-defense in such a short time. Yet Korea had done it from afar, using nothing but local Chinese. The blatant power gap. They gave up trying to comprehend it. The chasm between them was just too vast.
Had the Supreme Leader heard, he'd have said something like, "Just drop my friend's name and it's solved—why overthink it?" But despite his genius, these fireworks inevitably spread elsewhere. And that somewhere was none other than the Korean Empire, home to the "firefighter" Supreme Leader himself.
"Protect the Supreme Leader at all costs!" "Drive out corrupt officials and fat cats—build a self-reliant economy!"
Korea was strong but poor. Precisely by design. People get ideas when they're too stuffed and cozy. So whenever wealth started piling up, the Supreme Leader invented holidays and festivals, cut work hours, and pushed sports or "reproductive activities"—hobbies and nightlife—to keep folks occupied. The moment some got rich off big co-op dividends, he'd have the co-ops buy up surplus farm goods cheap from the market, turn them into booze and snacks, and distribute them. No room left to hoard those dividends.
Worried about prices rising from bulk buys? Short-term maybe, but long-term, production boomed, and farm goods barely covered labor costs anymore.
"Supreme Leader Comrade Secretary-General! We thank you!" The people had no clue it was exploitation. They saw it as the leader's masterful guidance preventing farm prices from crashing. Would they ever realize the Farmers' Cooperative was behind the long-term price drop? Capping farm prices low structurally capped what individual farmers could pocket too. The masses, fixated on the here-and-now, either didn't know or pretended not to.
Just look at how the local rich farmers vanished permanently after co-ops formed province-wide. Facts were crystal clear. Anyone grasping the basics knew one-sided gains couldn't last forever—so the policy "saving" farm prices wasn't for farmers at all.
"Neither paupers nor fat cats—just self-farming peasants, breathe and exploit your own wages."
The Supreme Leader couldn't tolerate paupers, but fat cats were right out too. After banks, he created the Farmers' Cooperative. Yeah, wealth accumulation? Possible, sure—but he'd made the world hellishly tough for it. A 21st-century modern knew exactly how to exploit humans.
But even he couldn't eternally block humanity's lust for riches. Lately, some had gotten too comfy, dreaming of ousting fat cats to get even richer themselves. Bourgeoisie had emerged in Korea.
They learned, saved, grew, succeeded, amassed wealth—and now eyed beyond. Ironically, if anyone in Korea wanted to crown the Supreme Leader emperor, it was these guys. Unlike radical monarchists pushing to restore imperial powers to the throne, they wanted to hand him something else, elevating him to a dignified emperor.
Cooperativeism and all that? Compromises with Confucian commune holdouts, they figured. Once he seized the throne and transcended into a perfect emperor, the red-tinted co-ops and local autonomy would vanish under his rule. Japan, his pet project, was their dream. Look at that rising Japan. They had no doubt it was his endgame.
Not entirely wrong, really. Just fifty years premature, in the Supreme Leader's view. At least. So he ignored them. Didn't want half-cooked rice.
"Let's show our resolve first."
But humans don't thrive on connections alone. Brushing off his cold shoulder as tacit approval, Korea's bourgeoisie took action. First, they challenged the establishment.
"Requesting a board meeting!" "We did that last year!!" "With consent from one-tenth of members, we can call one anytime!"
They united to oust co-op heads blocking the Supreme Leader's guidance for their own gain. To them, the old guard weren't serving members—they colluded across co-ops to protect their cliques. Even total incompetents held seats. Unmodern, in their eyes. Look at Japan. Cut the deadwood, and operations ran fine. They saw current co-op-ism as transitional, pre-modern. Something to shed for a modern nation.
Who steps up? The new era's masters—themselves, of course. Midway through this power shift, the provincial autonomists' rebellion in China rang alarm bells. Loud ones.
"Local autonomy? That's straight-up treason!" "Only a strong central government, infrastructure investment, and market expansion will secure the nation's future!"
Some went further. "The Supreme Leader could wave Japan in their faces forever, but autonomists just follow his finger!" "He's mercifully given us a chance to grow, yet they exploit it for their own safety!" "Not preservation—growth! Not poverty—prosperity!"
"Supreme Leader! Look at us! Just say the word, and we'll dump those autonomist traitors into the sea!"
Had they realized he was the one pushing local autonomy hard, their minds would've shattered, leaving them curled up in corners. But they yearned for his leadership. So they rose up. Basically, "notice us."
"Shall I handle them?" "Nah, leave 'em. They're cute, why bother."
Japan's ascent was only possible because big brother Korea allowed it. But could Korea pull it off? No way. Too big for that Hercules suckle-and-jawbreak routine. Even suckle-worthy Britain would snap, "Quit bullshitting and go earn some cash." Free trade? Fair competition? All good. But the America to enable it wasn't there yet. The current "America" was the United "China" States.
To sell Korean goods abroad, they had to beat American ones—those cranked out grinding Black folks in Detroit.
"Jeez. They're practically shoving me to grind Chinese instead."
Grind Chinese for a Japanese-style rise? While crushing separatists and communist revolts, competing with America and Britain, and placating Japan one-handed. And the payoff? Interwar Great Depression. Do it yourself in that hell-mode inferno. No thanks.
"Growth rates are booming—why the rush?" The Supreme Leader shook his head, recommending study abroad for those Anglo-American wannabes. If capitalism's so great, go study it there. Half would return red as commies, guaranteed.