Chapter 158
Chapter 158
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: The Italian War (4)
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By mid-July, the Italian front had pushed all the way down to central Campania.
Even the overwhelming show of force from the U.S. Navy and Air Force proved useless.
No matter how many fighters and bombers they threw into the fray, it wasn't enough to halt the People's Army's advances under the cover of night.
On July 15, the Smith Task Force under the U.S. 2nd Armored Division even suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of the Northern Italian Army.
At this rate, you'd think the Americans would break out the nukes, but there wasn't a hint of it.
Well, that's a good thing.
Time for the war merchant of death, Chairman Lee Seong-jun, to take the stage.
To sell my wares at razor-thin margins, though, I needed to stock up on raw materials cheap.
And while I was at it, crack open some export channels for Daehan goods.
I crunched the numbers and picked Australia as my first stop—a perfect fit for all these gains.
Indonesia was closer and a decent trade partner on paper, but those guys were still sorting out their internal mess, making them unsuitable for now.
Once I signaled my intent to visit, a letter from Australian Prime Minister Robert Menzies came flying back right away.
"Prime Minister Lee Seong-jun,
We in Australia fully endorse Your Excellency's proposal to discuss economic cooperation. Please name the dates that suit you, and we pledge to extend our utmost hospitality."
Robert Menzies was a seasoned politician who'd served one term starting in 1939 and was now in his second since 1949. Barring any surprises, he'd hold the throne for another decade at least.
For a letter from a man like that, it brimmed with eager anticipation.
He seemed downright desperate for economic ties with us.
Oh, right—makes sense when you think about it.
With the British Empire having "exploded" and France on the verge of becoming a corpse, Europe was primed to collapse into war any second.
In a world where the only reliable massive markets were the U.S. and Korea (plus its Chinese puppet and protectorate Japan), an overture for economic cooperation from Daehan's prime minister would wake anyone up in the dead of night to dash off a reply.
For once, I decided to bring my wife to the state visit.
"Prime Minister, you're serious?"
"Why would I lie to you about something like that?"
She rushed over and threw her arms around my neck.
She weighed more than I expected—nearly toppled us both while I held her.
Had she put on some weight?
No, probably just me getting weaker.
I soothed my delighted wife and hurried the Australia itinerary along.
I left the list of accompanying officials to Jeong Gil.
For the chaebols tagging along, I picked like this.
"Have Geundae, Se-seong, Eun-seong, Hu-gyeong, Han-cheol, Han-jeon, Tae-woo, and Sam-jin Groups all join."
The big four conglomerates, plus firms with synergy potential in Australia.
"Understood."
With the entourage squared away, we jetted off to Australia.
En route, we made a quick stop in Saipan to tour the island.
Korean settlers there had built a surprisingly solid community.
Hard to imagine good jobs on such a remote speck, but Dongdu Group was canning and selling tuna.
We flew via Tinian Island and Indonesia before touching down in Australia.
In Australia's de facto capital, Canberra, we received a warm welcome from Prime Minister Robert Menzies.
Sure, this era's Australia had its White Australia Policy nonsense, but they wouldn't dare spout that in front of Daehan, a true great power.
As far as I knew, unable to discriminate openly against Koreans, they even invented the laughable "honorary white" immigrant quota.
Not that it drew crowds, of course.
"Attention!"
The Australian honor guard was sharply drilled.
After a brief inspection, I rode with Menzies in the same car.
My wife shared a car with his spouse, Pat Menzies.
Seeing her next to the fifty-something Mrs. Menzies really drove home how young my wife still was.
Menzies and I chatted as we rode.
Thanks to my translator days handling docs constantly, I could follow his words with ease.
Still, for mumbled or rushed bits, I always double-checked with the interpreter.
"Is Your Excellency truly serious about investing in Australia?"
"Absolutely."
Australia's vast iron and coal reserves had my mouth watering, especially.
I expressed interest in investing across their resource developments, and Menzies reacted positively.
Opening development meant export pipelines to Korea—plenty of reason for him to bite.
In return, we had a few asks.
By this era's standards, giving them this much meant they owed us some givebacks.
"If there's anything Your Excellency desires, we'll accommodate as best we can."
"We'd like to export a bit more to Australia. Open your markets some."
"That's a Commonwealth matter—not simple."
"That's why I'm asking nicely."
If it were simple, I wouldn't need to ask, right?
Menzies said he'd consider it carefully.
"Accommodate that, and we'll supply Korean weapons at bargain prices. Or better—I'll build you a munitions factory."
"I-Is that for real?"
Australia, long craving domestic defense production, fell hook, line, and sinker.
After some back-and-forth, Menzies gave his firm yes.
"On our government's honor, we'll open our markets as wide as possible."
"Thank you for your bold decision, Prime Minister."
We shared a hearty laugh, sealing the deal.
With big-picture agreements like this, the staffers could handle the details.
Not much left for the summit proper.
Just restating the deals for the press and fielding questions.
Midway through touting the outcomes, one reporter tossed this curveball.
"Your Excellency is Asian too—care to comment on Australia's White Australia Policy?"
What? White Australia Policy?
Nearby Aussies and even the PM jolted at the question.
Then they glanced my way.
The policy was discriminatory, sure.
But no need to poke that bear and sour ties with a potential top resource hub for Daehan.
"I won't address off-agenda topics."
I dodged the question.
After the short summit, Menzies apologized.
"I'm sorry our policies put Your Excellency in an awkward spot."
"No need. Immigration is a sovereign right."
We blocked Chinese and Japanese migrants hard too, after all.
"Thank you for understanding."
The immigration talk sparked one of my own requests.
"Speaking of, Australia has some trust territories, right?"
"Yes, we administer quite a few."
"Could you take some refugees off our hands there?"
In the 21st century, Australia dumped refugees on remote islands.
Harsh policy, sure, but I didn't see it as wrong.
Better to offload tax-free, culturally alien populations abroad than house them domestically—for the nation's sake.
Even if ethically dicey, a state's priority was its citizens' safety and interests.
A nation was, after all, a community born of its people's consent.
"If Your Excellency covers costs, we'll cooperate."
Of course, not talking illegal Chinese or Japanese migrants.
Those got deported home next door—or used as foreign labor if needed.
The refugees I had in mind were the empire-chasing moths fluttering from everywhere.
Daehan Empire was veering multicultural-ish, but I prioritized assimilation over diversity.
Barring special cases, no alien elements welcome.
Even Germans only got mass-absorbed for their tech and talent.
"Your Excellency's cooperation bolsters my resolve."
Talks with Menzies proved fruitful.
Tied knots with Aussie firms, dipped into resource development, secured market and refugee pledges.
Solid haul.
Last night in Canberra.
My wife, swept up in the exotic vibe, sent sultry signals.
Bit tired—could we skip tonight?
Fat chance; my wishes got ignored flat-out.
I gave it my all, but her face said satisfaction was miles away.
"Your Excellency! Your Excellency!"
Mid-tryst, urgent shouts erupted outside.
"Hurry, get dressed."
My wife shoved me out of bed, yanking the covers over herself.
Five minutes later, I opened the door to Jeong Gil, face etched with urgency, thrusting a cable at me.
"What's the racket at this hour?"
Some people need tact.
I decoded the cable Jeong Gil handed over.
Huh?
This a joke?
Nuke went off in Italy?
No way—these guys jump the gun here?
The first nuke wasn't Soviet; it was American.
This could trigger the nuclear escalator, right?
"Your Excellency. UN General Assembly's convening soon. We need guidance."
Yeah. This ain't routine.
Best to strike an anti-nuke-use pose first.
Persuading the Soviets would be tough, so lay groundwork for later.
Call for a halt after a few shots.
They couldn't have many nukes anyway.
They knew full well a nuclear war favored them least.
"Security hold here?"
"With codes, we can maintain it a month."
Good enough.
I directed Foreign Affairs and Army to ascertain the nuke incident details.
Back at the hotel, my wife eyed me worriedly in her pajamas.
"Prime Minister, is it bad?"
Bad? You bet.
One slip, and World War III erupts.
Seeing her like that stirred unfinished business, but now wasn't the time.
I told her to pack.