Wings of Freedom #5
"So, Ok-gyun. You mean we should make some money out of this opportunity?"
"Yes."
What was this? Some kind of déjà vu prickling at me...
"Honestly, our trade deficit has been getting way out of hand lately, hasn't it?"
"True enough. But isn't it within the expected range?"
"It's blown past projections ages ago."
Hmm...
"Looks like Britain's trying to suck a little more out of China."
Or maybe just sucking harder on us Koreans. At least, unlike with China, they weren't meddling in our internal affairs—just quietly bleeding us dry through trade. Small mercies.
"In my view, it's largely because our money supply's exploded lately thanks to those CDOs."
"Blame the CDOs all you want, but we can't keep playing the role of ship biscuit for the marines forever."
If we were going to rise, now was the time. World War? Less than a decade away. Sure, it'd left things juicy and easy to digest for Britain, but it had also supercharged our real estate boom. From the cooperatives' perspective, the moneybags weren't just domestic anymore—they were overseas too.
"Then why not sell off some real estate overseas, like we did with Ganghwa Island or Busan? We've had a ton of inquiries lately, and we Koreans have plenty of land to spare, right?"
"Absolutely not. That'd roil the markets. One loach muddies the whole pond. Selling real estate CDOs is plenty. That's what makes them 'safe assets.'"
"How about London, then—"
"Are you nuts? London's the riskiest spot. I'd sooner open up New York."
I had zero intention of sparking a subprime mortgage crisis with this. Why the hell would I? Our provinces were thriving—growth rates shot up just from steady climbs. Ichonhyang? Smart single properties? Gangnam unbeatable? Real estate speculation and the construction boom that followed? That was for weaklings. All I needed was to enable long-term investments for the prime borrowers, issue them mortgages, and lure in some foreign capital. Long-term holds, with predictable long-run errors baked in, steadily pushing prosperity. That was the real deal.
What I really wanted was to prop up Japanese real estate, shear off their wool. Was I about to turn myself into that sacrificial sheep?
"Still, the deficit's too massive right now. And it's accelerating."
"That's what China used to deal with. Now it's our turn."
"It's just a deficit, not a money shortage, right?"
"Yes, the money supply itself looks ample. But 'just' doesn't cut it here..."
"They're sucking us dry in moderation, then. Good enough. Hell, it's reassuring if it stays within projections."
"Even so, this deficit is serious! CDOs are investments, not aid!"
"Fair point. No guarantee revolving credit lasts forever."
"But hey, got any clear fixes?"
If there were, I'd have done it already. We wouldn't be running this isolated economy.
"Shall we crack open a bottle?"
"China's collapsed hard, the Qing are rotting away, Japan needs more simmering... How about Russia? They're a total mess right now."
Caught between czarist loyalists and revolutionaries—killing, dying, fighting, shouting... Pure warzone. But war could mean profit.
"Shall we crack open a bottle?"
I started pondering what to sell to Russia. Maybe packed lunches?
"I'm saying crack it open!"
"No, why?"
"If you're not gonna sell now, why hoard it?"
"Come on, when they go full war among themselves, we'll get double—no, quadruple the price. Sell now?"
"Will that war even really happen? And like you said, gold's worth way more now than it will be then!"
Fair enough. I was planning to unload everything for a massive windfall anyway—no need to drag out the liquor to that exact moment.
But—
"These are top-shelf beauties. Use 'em now?"
"What's the big deal with selling off some Supreme Leader's Reserve?"
No, but... Once we start, we won't be able to sell for long. Fakes and dilutions would flood the market. Trademark infringement? Small potatoes!
"Still, hoarding turns it to shit."
"Sell it."
"I've been waiting for those words since last time."
In the end, I gave Ok-gyun export permits for the liquor from my private cellars. Supreme Leader's Reserve—Chongju spiked heavy with coca leaves as a flavor enhancer. The stuff that'd slumbered in the Leader's vault all this time. Time to unleash it on the world.
"To Siberia?"
"Russia's a bloodbath in Petersburg Square right now—total disaster."
Nod. Nod.
Japan. Ministry of Defense.
The generals in Japan's Ministry of Defense nodded in unison.
"And that Russia has gold. Oil too."
"You think I don't know that, asking here? Why's Defense yapping about this? Planning to invade—no, 'liberate' Russia?"
Russia. A great power rivaling Britain—how the hell do we beat that now?! Japan couldn't even handle the Qing.
"If we move, Korea has no choice but to back us."
"Intriguing. And why's that?"
Let's hear what fresh bullshit they're peddling.
"Britain wants reconciliation with Russia."
"And?"
"But Russia denies the Aigun and Beijing Treaties—lost northern Manchuria and Primorye, got pushed to Siberia—yet clings to Vladivostok port."
"Korea's provisionally respecting that occupation too."
"I know that much. So?"
"As long as that port exists, Anglo-Russian reconciliation's impossible. Britain wants to end Russia's adventurism there."
"So that's why we seize Vladivostok and push into Siberia?"
"Korea's jittery sharing a border with Russia. Britain wants post-war thaw, so no go. Only us—only the Great Japanese Empire—can scratch Britain's back."
"If Britain wants it, Korea'll help us."
The words held water. But.
That was Russia. Shattered vibe right now, sure—but that's why they'd declare martial law and swing a real haymaker our way for a mood boost.
"You said we need resource self-sufficiency, Prime Minister. Sakhalin, Kamchatka—and onward to Siberia."
"Gold, coal, iron, oil—all there. Prime Minister, don't we deserve to stretch our legs?"
I knew. All too well. Sucking at Korea's teat forever was risky. How long would Korea keep fattening us up? The young men's corps debt-collecting gig was seasonal at best.
"Start with mild protests over unlawful occupation, let it escalate. Pretexts galore. Korea's letting it slide, so everyone's sitting tight!"
"Russia has to project power this far, watching London and Korea the whole time!"
"We promise Korea land back at the outset—how're they gonna stop us? London's backing us this time!"
"London?"
"They've already floated selling us six battleships. Big naval buildup, offloading old hulls to us."
"Settle it all at once?"
"They're far, we're close. We're protected, they're threatened. Passing this up'd be idiotic."
"..."
"Japan's only way out is north, Prime Minister. Before Britain swallows Vladivostok and cuts a deal with Russia."
Time was razor-tight. But.
"I... see."
"Gonna ask the Supreme Leader?"
"...And if I do?"
"Prime Minister, on this at least, he won't back us. You know that."
"He'll help under London's nod, but not from the heart."
True enough. If Korea had wanted that port back, war-ready with Russia, they'd have taken it long ago. But they hadn't. And now we Japanese were gunning for it. Would that please him?
"The Supreme Leader wants Japan—Korea's sole rival—stuck as eternal housekeeper in his lap. Caged in his birdcage."
"Why concede so much otherwise? He counted on reactions like yours. Prime Minister, we can stand alone. You know it."
"But... stakes are too high. This is practically..."
He swallowed the word. Treason... right?
I knew the wins: prestige, high odds. But lose to some unknowable wildcard? Korea'd mediate Russia-Japan nicely. But the Leader wasn't dumb—win or lose, he'd brand it treasonous. Korea already milked Siberian economic rights. Shared with us too. March in with boots? London'd stay mum upfront, but backstage? Brutal reckoning likely. Win, and we'd weather it. Lose? He probably wouldn't even hit us. We'd be begging entry in our skivvies, dogeza-style. Leader'd likely just toss straw sandals our way. "Go to America." Chilling just imagining.
"Prime Minister, that scared of the Supreme Leader?"
"Scared? Why wouldn't I be? If he hadn't sent us home, half a million lives would've been ghosts."
Even those godless foreigners respected him—didn't they get it? Japan's Combined Fleet smashed on reefs, and still, they didn't grasp his terror.
"We're not fighting Korea, though."
"You really don't get it. Look at us."
"Huh?"
"Japan! Our homeland! Glorious Empire—look at it!"
"...?"
"Failed. Failed, failed, failed. Yeah, we flunked—over and over. But we finally got a shot. Economic rise."
"We grabbed it, succeeding big. That's us now."
"All thanks to imperial subjects skimping sleep and meals. Fine, let the public think that."
"But you can't. This might be our first—and last—chance. Risk it all again?"
"Lost allies to 'adventure,' lost sovereignty to 'adventure'—now what? The nation's future?"
"Not fighting Korea? Defying Korea—what's the diff? Why do you think the powers leave Japan be?"
The general who'd stayed mute through the prime minister's rage through all the generals rising finally spoke, even as "defiance" felt over the line.
"Prime Minister."
"What?"
"No soldier declares war pondering defeat."
"So?"
"I'll convince the Supreme Leader."
"What?!"
"If I do!!"
"Entrust Japan's future—its builder sons—to us."
"Nogi..."
Nogi. Nogi Maresuke. When Japanese generals across army and navy eyed mass resignations after the Korean War debacle, one of the few who stayed amid the humiliation.
"Japan is the land of samurai. I'll remind Korea of that."
Or not come back.