Chapter 170
Chapter 170
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Northern Tour (1)
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To completely settle the succession issue once and for all, I even recorded a will opposing hereditary rule.
I felt like I had to drive the nail in that deep.
“The longing for a leader’s bloodline needs to end as mere nostalgia. Isn’t it about time we realized that thinking a politician’s relatives will be exceptional is just an illusion?”
Only after I left that will behind did the commotion sparked by my wife’s pregnancy finally die down.
Still, I didn’t think the issue was fully extinguished.
We didn’t even know if the baby in her belly was a boy or a girl, but with all this fuss already, if it turned out to be a boy, things would really get noisy.
To put an end to this uproar, I found myself hoping my wife would have a girl.
Once she had a daughter this time, I’d be more careful with our relationship.
No more third child.
That was the plan, anyway, but I wondered if I could resist if she tempted me.
In any case, since my wife seemed pretty upset by the whole fiasco, I decided to go on a tour that doubled as a vacation.
Vacation as vacation, but what’s a tour?
It’s handling official duties while taking care of personal matters.
I instructed Kim Jeong-gil to prepare for the tour.
Of course, since it was a schedule combined with a vacation, I allotted plenty of time.
First, I inspected the iron mines in Anshan and Musan, which were responsible for the empire’s iron and coal, as well as the coal mines in Fushun, Benxi, and other areas.
“Excellency, you need to be careful in the tunnels.”
“I know.”
I put on a hard hat and went down into the dark mine shafts to meet the miners directly.
“Excellency, it’s an honor that you’ve come all the way to a harsh place like this.”
“I’m the one who’s honored to meet the people sweating for the empire.”
After hearing the miners’ grievances, I toured the facilities.
Even at the end of the 1930s, the empire hadn’t invested much in the mines.
Modernizing electricity, explosives, and transportation equipment was the extent of it.
Investments were solely to boost extraction volumes.
The current empire was paying considerable attention to mine safety as well.
They secured escape routes and stationed safety inspectors to regularly check equipment conditions.
They no longer drove the miners like in the old days by setting rigid quotas.
After working their set hours, the miners could come up to the surface and shower twice a day with hot water.
Meals were more nutritious than before.
I sampled the food myself and confirmed the mines were running smoothly.
I asked if they were putting on extra show just because I was there, but no miner said yes.
After the mines, it was the countryside.
New community projects had reached rural South Manchuria later than the Korean Peninsula, but now they were mostly on track.
Not every house had plumbing, but they had septic toilets and water systems using wells or whatever was available for drinking.
Houses had shifted from old brick, mud, or wood to clean reinforced concrete Korean-style homes.
“We’ve done land consolidation so each household can farm at least five hectares. As you can see, everything’s been neatly divided into squares.”
This village’s farmland exceeded my target of four hectares.
Tractors would be ideal, but they were too expensive for ordinary farmers to buy.
When I asked about it, they said they provided subsidies at the village level for shared tractors.
‘That’s not a bad idea.’
If South Manchuria, where land consolidation was tough, was like this, North Manchuria with its vast farmlands must be even better off.
Since I was already visiting farmhouses, I decided to stay overnight there.
“Excellency, it’ll be hard for you to sleep in a humble place like this.”
The farmer said cautiously.
“It’s fine. I’ve lived in places like this before.”
I’d survived cramped studio apartments.
This was nothing.
Because I insisted, my wife ended up sleeping in the farmhouse too.
That wasn’t necessary.
Lying side by side with her, I suddenly felt an itch all over my body.
Something had bitten me, but it wasn’t a mosquito.
“What the hell is this?”
When I hurriedly turned on the light, there were red dots in a line along my side.
Lifting my clothes, I saw a fat, engorged bedbug.
“B-bedbug?”
I freaked out and shook off my clothes.
It wasn’t just one or two clinging on.
The moment she saw the bedbug, she freaked out too and started frantically shaking her clothes.
She seemed to lose her mind over the bug.
I quickly blocked the door before anyone could come.
Fortunately, she didn’t seem bitten.
I figured we needed a bedbug extermination campaign.
Should we make DDT and spray it?
DDT would definitely wipe out bedbugs.
The problem was the bioaccumulation harm.
DDT was a vicious substance with a half-life of up to thirty years once applied.
Still, I was tempted to risk it just to eradicate these bedbugs from the planet.
Only those who’ve been bitten know the feeling.
For now, I decided to look into alternatives besides DDT for bedbugs.
This incident ensured I’d never sleep in a farmhouse again.
I slept exclusively on the train.
My wife seemed to prefer that too.
“The toilet was one thing, but that place just wasn’t right. Especially that bedbug.”
She shuddered at the memory of the bedbug.
Excluding the bedbugs, nothing else noteworthy happened.
We passed through several rural areas and entered North Manchuria.
“Prime Minister Excellency, it’s an honor that you’ve come to us.”
As soon as we entered the harsh-named North Manchuria, German-style villages decked out like something from a fairy tale welcomed us.
Seeing villages and farmlands full of burly Westerners made me wonder if we were in Europe.
I personally toured the Germans’ villages, named things like “XXburg.”
Most talk I heard was German, but Korean was mixed in plenty.
Koreans spoken by blue-eyed foreigners.
It sounded a bit off.
But these people were Koreans now too.
“Hello, Prime Minister.”
Some even recognized me and greeted me.
Probably scientists or technicians with TVs at home.
“Hello.”
Unlike native Koreans, the Germans treated me relatively casually.
Maybe their mindset differed from Koreans’.
It didn’t feel bad, anyway.
To commemorate visiting the German village, we had German food for dinner.
The table had everything from raw meat dishes like mett to potato pancake-like reibekuchen.
They’d prepared a variety since they weren’t sure what we’d like.
With so much food, some suited our tastes.
While sampling German cuisine, I asked village head Maximilian if the support for Korea’s new community projects was going well.
“Of course. The province is helping a lot, even with settlement support.”
“I noticed you’re using water at home. Do you have plumbing?”
“We have technicians here, so we set it up new. Is it illegal, by any chance?”
It wasn’t.
The state was funding it specifically, so illegal made no sense.
The Germans were adapting better than expected.
Maybe because there were few natives in the area.
I asked the local Korean residents present if there were racial discrimination issues.
“We don’t feel it much. The Germans get along well with us.”
Germans, infamous for racism, with hardly any discrimination?
East Germans were the neo-Nazi stronghold originally.
Yet they were acting so tame?
I pondered the reason.
Perhaps the “proper education” from Soviet troops who treated them as Untermenschen had humbled them.
Logically, that seemed plausible.
Or maybe the might of Korea, the world’s third power, did it.
Either way, it was good.
My wife found the time in the German village, scarce on Koreans, very relaxing.
“There’s no one watching here.”
She said she was always self-conscious about prying eyes.
It made her feel stifled.
I was always trailed by cameras, so I didn’t notice.
People looking? So what.
If I cared about others’ gazes, I couldn’t even live with my wife.
She liked the German village so much she suggested staying a few more days.
Maybe we should.
To lift her spirits, I adjusted the schedule accordingly.
With extra time in the German village, I squeezed in some propaganda events.
I chopped firewood with the Germans and went bear hunting with guns alongside them.
The Germans caught the prey, but I got the brown bear.
Posing with the massive brown bear behind me made me look every bit the dignified dictator.
Frankly, I needed to keep supplying this kind of image steadily.
The propaganda goal was simple.
His Excellency may be getting on in years, but he’s still robust.
So don’t doubt his health.
The originator of this style was the infamous Vladimir Putin.
Of course, Putin ended up a laughingstock after a coup by his treacherous chef, but before that, his image politics had been quite successful.
As a fellow dictator, it made sense to borrow proven methods.
Come to think of it, I wondered if Putin had even been born, but I had no urge to interfere.
In this twisted world, his chances of seizing power were slim anyway.
Even if the opportunity arose, it’d be ages after my death.
“Smile for the camera.”
I flashed a bright Vladimir Putin-style smile at the lens.