War Never Again #3: The Pervert's Grave Smile
Ito smiled gravely.
At our first meeting, I just pegged him as some kind of pervert kid. But now... it feels like he's possessed by something. Or maybe I'm the one bewitched by him...
Judging by the level of that oiran he recommended to me, deep down he's still the same old ero-gaki from back then. The kind who'd drag you along, whispering about these killer big sisters. But this current getup? Isn't it a bit much? He's no monkey swinging through the trees, but damn, that pervy vibe is way over the top. The style's completely different, isn't it?
"Can I really pass this along as-is...?"
The proposal he'd handed me was pure, unadulterated nonsense—something I had zero desire to deliver straight to the cabinet. But this was the genuine original. Handwritten by him in both Korean and imperial Japanese, no less. No room for translation errors, no wiggle room for interpretation—this was the real deal, top-shelf authenticity.
If I went and "edited" this golden edict like some wannabe sorcerer supreme, it'd blow up into a full-blown diplomatic incident. No doubt.
If he sensed something fishy, he'd just route it through back channels to the cabinet. And then things would get really interesting. For me, in the worst possible way.
The funny part? Ito himself didn't think the proposal was half bad. He could just picture the fallout all too vividly.
Maybe I should retire from politics.
He contemplated retirement for the first time.
"Hey, did that bastard leave yet?"
"Yep, sailed out the day before yesterday."
"Damn, guy's quick on his feet."
"But sir, you sure you're okay with this? Looks like a total loss no matter how you slice it."
"More than that, we're walking away from real gains here. Factor in the opportunity cost, and it's a hefty hit."
"Especially when the upside is just joining the gold standard. Not exactly a pretty picture."
Korea right now was this freakish heavy-industry powerhouse. Light industry? Total weak spot.
In a world with zero tariffs, tying us into the same currency bloc would kill even the home-cooked rice cakes from the neighbor lady. No contest.
And the fledgling textile sector, just starting to stand tall? Forget it.
B2C, you could rally a boycott. B2B? No such luck.
But there were reasons for this mess. Rewind the clock a bit—to that pivotal moment deciding Joseon's future.
Despite Gojong's orders, I'd largely ditched light industry for national development.
Britain churning out cloth in their factories, grinding Irish workers to dust with Indian and Egyptian calico. No way Korea beats that.
They'd demand most-favored-nation status any day now. Unlike what the king and yangban dreamed, tariffs meant squat against pirate Britain.
Beat Japan? Sure, and then what? Japan gets curb-stomped by Britain anyway.
So I bailed on that lane from the jump. If Japan can't touch Britain, how could Joseon?
No navy meant we couldn't even export properly. Building one? Bigger headache than the ships themselves—Japan and Britain would flip.
Unlikely to pan out anyway.
As the real power, I had to eye Joseon's strength right then. Reports from the front lines? Nothing like Gojong and the queen's fantasies. Impossible.
Lucky not to get seized; no one to cry to if we did. That was Joseon.
Sourcing ships from Japan or Britain for a navy? That killed any faith I had in the king.
I'm the Japan expert, and he thinks that's how it works?
After that, I ignored top-down noise and gunned for heavy industry.
We had to pay back the Qing, after all.
Difference with Li Hongzhang? He had no one nearby to mooch from.
Thanks to Daewongun's backing, this ex-Japan hand leveraged Japanese muscle for heavy industry growth.
Result? Relations with Minbi—no, later Gojong—soured hard. Led straight to siccing ronin on her assassination.
But that's that, this is this. Endgame: I took Qing, exiled Daewongun. Minbi? Handled. Gojong? Locked in a closet.
Daewongun couldn't even pull that off.
Fast-forward to now—or a bit back. I founded the Korean Empire, claimed the Supreme Leader's throne.
First order: Show the masses things had changed.
British cloth flooding in anyway? I turned it into bespoke suits and shipped 'em back—an "Italian-style" model.
With state gold control, Britain had zilch to buy here. So they loaded up on quality custom suits.
Organized pricey, skilled madams into "Madam Associations," strict QC, and "housework" self-exploitation. Results, sorta.
Still no profits. They imported, we didn't export.
No most-favored-nation clause yet—thanks to circumstance—but I ditched tariffs from the start. Impose 'em, and warships show for treaties. Opium War, anyone?
Barter for barter—no cash loss.
Survival 101: Feed 'em first, or no knife to the gut.
Act dumb, they swarm for MFN. Botch that, Ganghwa Island goes Hong Kong.
Lose tax routes? Nation folds. Like China post-Grand Canal.
Turns out their economies sucked too—hungry wolves.
Anglo-Saxon plunder trade booming? I'd question my own head.
Now, as always, I gave what I gave. Japan too.
Sea lanes British-owned—margins all theirs.
Single currency with Japan boosts our exports, softens the blow.
Or just cuts our losses. Fine by me.
Less gold outflow short-term.
Gold standard? Near-must for global trade nets now. Currency melting away—who trusts continent-spanning deals?
Otherwise, stale barter only.
Free trade's artificial; gold standard's inhuman anchor. Ironic.
Gold standard, single currency. Tempting gains dangle.
But yeah. Sacked short-term greed back then—opened paths.
We've endured this long because.
Still do. Ditch impatience, big picture emerges.
Without that, warships would've hit Korea for gold/MFN printing presses ages ago.
Better now, right?
Japan needs dog biscuits sometimes.
Our terms, though. Hierarchy: humans feed animals.
No respect getting eaten.
Upside not zilch. Gold standard's meh, but Japan holds sole tariff-free deal per Ganghwa Treaty.
Folks don't know—we don't tariff anyway.
Scrap single currency and Ganghwa? MFN bluff evaporates.
No other "most favored," what's favored?
One weakness down—bargaining power up.
Tariff with Japan? Maybe, low enough to dodge punches.
Skeptical on tariffs, but options grow. MFN risk gone? Bonus.
Not banning gold— they'll rush ports?
But scale's heavy. Textiles.
Korea's co-opped, self-exploiting suits to Britain.
Britain cheap-imported our bespoke.
Textiles? Side bloom from that "export"—delicate weed in concrete cracks.
Cloth shortages birthed thread needs. Started there.
No spotlight, no state aid—madams' maids on handmade spindles. Gut-wrenching "full-body twist" origin.
I saw dark future then, still do.
Sprinkled cheap pedal sewing machines house-to-house; donated pricey Japanese spinning/weaving gear free to co-ops.
No bandwidth for more in doomed sector. Still paying debts, skating thin ice.
That's our limit—mine, the nation's.
Fold now? No huge loss. Minimal investment by design.
But opportunity cost? Massive. Pity to ditch assets.
Debt-built startup. Unicorn swaps shares with mid-tier corp?
Wings on a unicorn, maybe.
Clothing survives direct-to-Britain. Suppliers? Dead.
Japanese takeover, deformed into accessory.
Like four-layer semis. Not industry—appendage, worse.
Co-op regional bonds? B2C maybe; B2B? Backroom hell.
State embargo, mass-produce thread/cloth? Britain punches. Japan first, probably. Belly-button bigger than belly.
Textiles hit limit sans tariffs anyway. My math: peanuts.
"You even had that industry? Thought you just bought it all."
But ditching without support? Funeral rites for the dying.
Fair play. Not my vision. Japan's.
I shaded Ito's picture, tossed it back.
Now.
Remake it my way? Becomes my picture.
Japan bills for cooperation. No more big concessions.
We beg instead.
Why? Snap fingers: gold standard exports fine. Single zone? Decent.
Hiccup? Dubious textiles.
Vs. Japan's turmoil from my tweak? Non-issue.
So, yeah.
"A new industry guzzling thread—or cloth. Ideally, demand so huge imports can't cover."
"You two show up out of nowhere, dump this on me?"
"List 'em out."
...Do it.