Asia's Quiet Rise Amid Europe's Chaos
While Europe—under the banner of War #6—was heating up with CDOs and the Kaiser's jolly rebellion, Asia developed quietly. Really quietly. This Korean-Russian war had made it clear to everyone. Fighting Korea, Asia's emerging power—no, quasi-great power—was boring as hell in and of itself. You never knew where or how the knife thrust would come flying. Who'd have thought about Russia? That their badass railroad would get smashed by Comrade Lenin's and Comrade Secretary-General's backroom deal.
So they chose development over their old military adventurism. Because it looked like the Secretary-General next door in the Korean Empire—no, the Supreme Leader of the Korean Empire—wanted exactly that.
Right now, the Secretary-General had snatched the awesome Japanese prime minister gig and was flipping Japan upside down. Importing piles of Japanese finished goods dirt cheap, repackaging them in Busan, and shipping to Britain. He pulled off what Japan desperately wanted but couldn't. Shockingly, it worked on Britain, who were losing their minds in a real estate boom. Britain was half-insane from printing money nonstop, only for their currency to keep drying up.
"Korea, can't you stop exporting?"
"You seem to be printing currency. Isn't that fine?"
"…"
"I'll export more. Hang in there."
"Deal. But I didn't print any."
The Supreme Leader, who'd dumped awesome Japanese goods on Britain at Chinese prices, now started exporting badass Korean farm machinery to cash-flush Japan. Korea's cheap rice wasn't cheap for nothing. He'd personally PT'd and tuned Japan, then quietly imported the surplus unemployed Japanese it produced. The most Westernized Japanese right now had East Asia's best service mentality, after all. The Supreme Leader never denied the need for a service industry. He just always figured soldiers—heavy industry—mattered more than whores—services.
And the Supreme Leader's moves became a role model for every Asian on the continent. "We wanna do that like Japan too!"
They couldn't pull off a Korean Empire. The Qing's territory was too vast for their grip, and China had the grip but was riddled with British and French influence. Try his communes, and you'd turn up a corpse tomorrow. Other Asian states couldn't either. Lacking power, cash, control, skills—something was always missing.
But Japan? It felt possible. Once sky-high untouchable, now just a mountaintop. Something you could climb.
One serious problem, though: no ladder. Japan was Korea's deliberate foster child—a historical rarity. The other Asian nations, Anglo-French colonies, had currencies dried up ages ago. Kickstarting an economy meant panning for gold in the mud. Exactly what Britain and France wanted: no weird industries, just dig gold like hell and buy our awesome consumer goods.
21st-century African gold panners would applaud on all fours. That's their exact situation.
So they went to gawk at the Supreme Leader's gold. Gotta wonder if it's real. If so, toss a penny to fellow Asians?
His answer was always the same: nothing like that. Secret: even if he had it, no way he'd hand it to guys saying "not our kind of compatriots."
But he tossed out one joking proposal: how about a silver standard?
Sadly, they took it as a polite no and left.
Man, you'd never lose out listening to me.
While Europe lost its shit, the Supreme Leader's shadow began stretching across Asia.
1906 New Year debates:
"Let us relocate outside our living districts too!"
"No. Go home."
"Why only men?"
"No. Go home."
"Isn't it because women have no suffrage in general elections? Give us the vote."
"No. Go home."
This year, in the New Year's big interview, I debated the women's radicals. Same conclusion: bullshit. Women's suffrage? Not 100 years early—200! Freedom of residence? Precisely, the Korean Empire has no constitutional freedom of residence at all. Even men's is restricted—what do you expect? What do you think a 19th—no, 20th-century one-party dictatorship is?
No peasant-workers here, but we ran a hardcore urban-rural divide like some 21st-century republic. Local autonomy meant inter-local moves were straight-up impossible—no windows even open. Only soldiers got a tiny loophole for military district transfers.
Reasons? Too painful to spell out. Locals stay alive to build—if free movement, locals die... longer commutes, pricier cramped housing, plummeting birthrates... Freedom of residence? Reasons to avoid it stack up endlessly.
Grass dries in one pasture? Whip or shoot the cows, move 'em—but normal states suck at that. So spread 'em wide or go nomadic with the capital. But vested interests always flip out.
Me? I could. But if successors keep it? Feels like shitting and running. Hate that unease. Got clean power—why live uneasy? Coup plotters do that shit. That's why I made pensions strictly personal savings. Know distributions are popular. But it bugs me, okay?
Sure, isolated old folks will starve somewhere. But in this era, becoming socially isolated as an elder is natural death. Morning exercises and breakfast provided—how do you get sidelined?
Same logic: despite the radicals' push, I stayed reserved on women's suffrage. Precisely, women do have suffrage here—on the Secretary-General. Party suffrage, that is. They delegate to co-ops, co-ops vote at congress for new top leadership. I'm that lifelong leader.
So their complaints had a glitch. Women wield plenty of legislative influence.
Not total bullshit, though. Can't deny it. No direct vote on the Supreme Leader. He's army head, Yusin's origin, executive chief. Means? Women stay home weaving. Zero sway over me, alive or dead. Just pack lunch for hubby's vote. Or a bomb lunch.
That's their "missing" women's suffrage. Regrettable. Grant it, and the army gets "women-influenced" stink—inevitable dogfood rep. Soldiers'd see themselves as dogfood—how win anything? Look at Cixi's troops lately. Morale breaded—no, morale hazard.
Sadly, not East-West or era-specific. Needed a Joan of Arc reboot. Even she couldn't dodge the end.
I buy woman power. World doesn't.
Thatcher had to personally "prove" she wasn't an idiot. Meaning her army looked like easy pickings. This era slaughters the easy.
Some say "prove it then." Fair. Get tattoos and prove you're not trash forever.
Don't want that life. Too petty. Let the comfy ones enjoy. So women's vote for lifelong Supreme Leader? Go nuts after I'm dead. My verdict.
Current "elections" aren't picking me—they approve my term. Approve/approve. Election? Whatever, it's a quadrennial holiday now. Not heartless enough to yank it from the fun-loving nation.
They love it. And now they want real suffrage for the festival? After I die, then.
21st-century democrat in me boils at begging me for it—instead of blood-seizing from vested interests like I did. Rights? Grab with guns and swords. Handed rights? You won't even believe 'em yourself.
If so, women suffragists: seize it by force on the first post-me-death election day. Prettiest picture.
Bit early? Not my call. New era's burden.
"Want suffrage!"
"Eh, no."
Daring to beg from vested powers? Seize it—like me.