Chapter 322
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Side Story 13: Lingering Attachment
1975 was the year when the presidential and general elections were held together.
Even the frail Lee Sung-jun came out in a wheelchair pushed by his daughter Lee Se-eun to cast his one vote.
“Your single vote will shape the future of this nation.”
Amid voices urging people to vote, long lines formed as they dropped their ballots into the boxes.
Half of the votes people cast were a “show of anger” against the Grand Political Council.
“Even so, for His Excellency Lee Sung-jun’s sake, we’ll give them one more chance.”
Of course, plenty of votes went to the Grand Political Council too.
Voting continued until the scheduled time of 6 p.m.
Beep.
“Anyone lining up now won’t be able to vote.”
Total eligible voters: 48 million.
Expected turnout: around 80%, or 38.5 million votes.
“Who’d you vote for?”
“His Excellency Lee Sung-jun’s party, the Grand Political Council, obviously.”
“The New Democratic Party this time.”
“Neither the Grand Political Council nor the New Democratic Party, so the Blue Party.”
Posing as media outlets, the KCIA conducted exit polls and learned that the New Democratic Party was close to a majority.
“We’ll need to switch out quite a few ballots.”
Using these poll results, the KCIA began transporting pre-rigged ballot boxes to polling stations.
They had of course confirmed the number of early voters in advance and matched the ballot counts accordingly.
The KCIA was thorough in such matters.
The transportation of ballot boxes was handled with meticulous care.
“Ah, preparing hidden back routes in advance is basic, right?”
The KCIA had created secret passages into the buildings storing the ballot boxes ahead of time.
Agents used these narrow corridors to swap in the prepared boxes and remove the real ones.
What about the National Election Commission monitors who should oversee this?
“Ah, hurry up and get it done without getting caught.”
Some NEC staff were in league with the KCIA and helped transport the boxes.
Most were unaware of such activities, and those people had been assigned far from ballot box duties.
Then what of the opposition’s monitors?
“Damn, suddenly need to hit the bathroom—got the runs.”
KCIA agents used diarrhea-inducing pills and such to keep opposition monitors from their posts.
If that didn’t work, they’d blow a toad house fuse, blame it on a short circuit, and handle things in the dark.
Of course, the KCIA wasn’t infallible.
It was impossible for not a single incident to occur during such operations.
In fact, there were three cases where KCIA agents swapping ballot boxes got caught in the act.
Even then, the KCIA had contingency plans.
“What else? Just make sure it doesn’t hit the press.”
They blocked any news coverage thoroughly and made witnesses disappear.
If no one knew, it never happened.
In this manner, the KCIA succeeded in rigging the general election ballots.
The results were shocking.
“Grand Political Council wins with overwhelming 61.33% of the vote!”
The Grand Political Council swept 85% of the constituency seats in a landslide victory.
“What? What?”
People harbored strong suspicions about the results.
“The Grand Political Council clowns who ran the country into the ground got 61.33%?”
“That’s just how it is.”
The Korean government dismissed allegations of election fraud outright.
“Those bastards look suspicious no matter how you slice it.”
Koreans weren’t the only ones suspicious.
Foreign governments eyed Korea’s vote suspiciously too.
In particular, the CIA, which had keen interest in Korea’s next regime, declared the election fraudulent.
“Based on our verified data, this Korean general election was undoubtedly rigged.”
“Then make some noise in the press.”
The CIA didn’t pass up the platform Washington provided.
“Oh dear, folks. Come see this—turns out the Koreans rigged their vote.”
Major outlets like the Washington Post and New York Times ran with CIA materials, viciously attacking Korea’s election fraud.
Korean media sniffed the story too, but
“If we just parrot Yankee intel and get it wrong, we can’t handle the fallout.”
They took a step back for now.
Seeing this, the Korean government swiftly framed the narrative.
“Who’s pushing this election fraud frame? The Americans, that’s who. Will you fall for these con artists’ tricks again as they spare no means to meddle in our affairs?”
America’s attacks ended up aiding the Korean government instead.
“Now that you mention it, the government has a point.”
“Thinking of His Excellency Lee Sung-jun’s name, it’s not an unbelievable result.”
Koreans let the fraud issue slide for the time being.
Tasting success, the KCIA proposed the same for the presidential election.
“Isn’t that a guaranteed win? Do we really need to rig the vote?”
“Absolutely not. For the next regime to gain strength, we need the highest possible vote share.”
“Not wrong.”
Kim Jung-gil found the argument persuasive.
“Let’s open a new era together with the young political affairs minister Jang Dong-yoon, standard-bearer of the future.”
While Jang Dong-yoon’s campaign ran, the KCIA meticulously prepared the fraud.
“Simply swapping ballots isn’t enough. In areas where swapping is tough, remember to boost our vote share and cut theirs!”
The KCIA poured national resources into black propaganda without hesitation.
“Do you know what New Democratic Party presidential candidate Lee Cheol-gi is like? Back in the day, he read Marx-Leninist books.”
“What? Lee Cheol-gi was a commie?”
“If only he were just a commie. He’s suspected of plotting to overthrow the state.”
Such blatant tales were spread among rural elders.
There was a reason.
Urban youth wouldn’t buy such obvious smears easily.
So they needed different stories to hook the young.
“The Second Lee Sung-jun! Let’s staunchly support Candidate Lee Cheol-gi and lead the Republic to an era of peace and prosperity!”
The KCIA hired paid part-timers to spread overtly fawning praise in university districts.
“What? Second Lee Sung-jun? Trying to ape a dictator?”
Youth opposed to dictatorship thought that way, while
“How dare a punk like Lee Cheol-gi compare himself to His Excellency Lee Sung-jun.”
Those fond of Lee Sung-jun resented the casual use of his image.
The KCIA’s operations, backed by hordes of psyops experts, proved highly effective.
The Intelligence Command wasn’t idle either.
“Here are the wiretap results on the opposition.”
The Intelligence Command recorded opposition leaders’ calls verbatim, extracting attackable material.
This fed straight into the KCIA’s black propaganda.
On election day, voting proceeded smoothly.
Pre-election KCIA polls predicted a comfortable win.
“Do we really have to rig this? 55% is safe territory.”
“The operation’s already underway. Stopping now would cause too much noise.”
Halting mid-swap or such would be even more headache-inducing, right?
The KCIA had a point.
“Then wrap it up quietly.”
“We shall.”
The KCIA employed similar tactics as in the general election.
They left downtown central polling stations untouched to avoid eyes and focused on rural and urban fringe boxes.
But this election had one mistake absent last time.
It was a freak accident the KCIA couldn’t have foreseen.
“Our precinct’s building collapsed, merging us into Precinct 1? How the hell do we handle this?”
“Ah, just do the swap first. You know they’ll make us write reports if we skip it.”
They swapped Precinct 3’s ballots as planned.
The problem came with Precinct 1 agents.
“This is Precinct 1’s box, right?”
“Should be.”
It was originally, but Precinct 3 agents had conveniently left it nearby, tangling things up.
Precinct 1 agents thus swapped out the box Precinct 3 had left.
The result was profoundly shocking.
With Precinct 1’s populous votes double-counted, turnout hit a laughable 146% of registered voters.
“What? 146%?”
The world erupted.
It was blatant, undeniable fraud.
The Korean government immediately stated it was an “administrative error” by the local election committee.
Talk swirled, but no one refused to accept the presidential results.
Jang Dong-yoon’s lead over second place was so vast that a bit of fraud dirt wouldn’t make the public reject it.
The real issue was the shattered faith in voting and democracy.
“Koreans spend 100% of their time studying. And 46% on rest.”
“Asking Koreans: is half 73% or 50%?”
America didn’t miss the punchline.
146% became a meme mocking Korea outright.
Lee Sung-jun, facing Kim Jung-gil who’d crossed the line for succession stability, confronted a reality he’d long ignored.
The Republic, world’s second superpower forged by Lee Sung-jun.
Its glittering facade was mere wrapping for an authoritarian state that chose ends over means.
Perhaps this was karmic retribution for Lee Sung-jun himself, who’d mocked and trivialized democratic values.
Yet the aged former ruler harbored no regrets.
Regret was for those who hadn’t given their all.
It ill suited Lee Sung-jun, who always had.
Coughing dryly, Lee Sung-jun clung to hope for the Republic’s betterment.
His sole regret was not living to see that day.
Thus, the Republic’s iron man Lee Sung-jun closed his eyes, feeling his body grow cold.