Chapter 87
Chapter 87
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Beer
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News that the Axis powers were suffering repeated setbacks left Korean intellectuals—who had long advocated joining the Axis to expand their territory—grappling with complicated emotions.
To them, the fascists who had pulled off blitzkrieg after blitzkrieg, rapidly expanding their empire, were the ultimate role models they desperately wanted to emulate.
"Look at Germany, steadily expanding its empire without a waver under the Führer's orderly leadership. Isn't this the ideal nation?"
"If we can't match Germany, we should at least aim for Italy. Look at the Duce. At least that man knows how to make bold bets and take big bites."
That's what they had truly believed.
Yet now, Italy—the Axis's number two, which they had praised endlessly—was faltering, and Germany wasn't conquering the Soviet Union but facing the peril of a two-front war.
Was blitzkrieg really not the right path after all?
They felt confused.
Was Lee Sung-jun right—the man who had desperately blocked expansion by insisting that fascism would ruin the country?
The intellectuals couldn't bear to admit that fact.
They immediately turned to self-justification.
"It's not that the Axis's strategy is wrong—it's that Daehan is on the opposite side of the scale. If Daehan had sided with the Axis, things wouldn't have turned out like this."
And that wasn't entirely wrong.
Without Daehan, could the Soviets have held out through 1941 so well?
Without Daehan, could Britain have seized Mediterranean sea control so easily?
It sounded reasonable enough.
"So Lee Sung-jun is the one who's wrong. How does it make sense to join the West, who want to take even what we already have, instead of the Axis powers who could give us so much?"
Of course, they didn't broadcast this publicly.
They just whispered it quietly among themselves at private gatherings or teahouses.
It was a stark contrast to the early days of the Lee Sung-jun regime.
The Security Service compiled a report on these intellectuals' sentiments and sent it up to me.
"These guys still have a long way to go before they wise up. Tsk tsk."
Daehan still had a mountain of hurdles ahead.
I'd given them a perfect example of how fascism screws a country, and they still couldn't get it. It was frustrating as hell.
I sympathized with the feelings of Professor Aristotle, who had toiled to guide those primitive ancient tribes onto the straight and narrow.
"How can you people fail to see the tide of the times!"
"Pardon?"
I'd let the words slip out.
Ahem.
I made an awkward face.
In any case, I felt the need to enlighten these scholars blind to the era's flow.
"You there."
"Yes, Prime Minister."
"It's no good. We're going to have to cram ten-minute propaganda broadcasts into every morning radio slot, movie screening, and workplace pep talk, explaining exactly how Germany wrecked itself with fascism. Make them listen."
"Understood."
That's the beauty of dictatorial power.
If they won't get it, you have the strength to shove it right into their earholes.
The power of this Q-tip was something else.
"By the way, how's the radio music programming these days? I hear it's popular even within our empire."
"Ah, yes. It used to be five days a week for an hour each, but now it's seven days for two hours."
"Yeah? Is it on now?"
"Ah, let me tune it in for you."
Kim Jeong-gil fiddled with the radio.
Soon, upbeat background music filled the air, followed by girls singing.
Wasn't this a familiar tune?
Where'd that song I used to hear go?
"That's not the Colonel Bogey March."
"Well, they say it's no fun."
These days, they were singing love songs, apparently.
Even in this era, love songs were the kings of music after all.
Come to think of it, what did frontline soldiers care about chanting Heil Hitler?
Hmm.
Soldiers and love songs.
Suddenly, an idea flashed through my mind.
Come to think of it, the Korean Empire was sorely lacking in that department.
"Maxim. We need that."
"M-Ma-Mаксим? You mean the machine gun?"
Ha. Have you ever seen such an ignorant fool?
I let out a sigh of pity.
Maxim is the alpha and omega of soldiers—their soul, their lifeblood.
To not know such a pinnacle of civilization.
I resolved to bestow this gem of modernity upon our sorry empire.
Of course. I could at least provide that level of welfare to the men I'd dragged onto the battlefield.
"Anyway, there's something like that. You can go now."
I had nothing to say to an illiterate grunt like Lee Jeong-yoon.
I called in the sharp civilian bureaucrat, Lee Kyung-ho.
"You summoned me, Your Excellency?"
"I need you to handle something."
"Just give the order, and I'll take care of it."
"I want you to make a magazine."
"I'll acquire a magazine publisher."
"You handle that part. The content is what matters. I'll need lots of photojournalists and female models."
"Wh-what kind of magazine format?"
I explained Maxim—the great symbol of civilization I knew—to Lee Kyung-ho.
He looked perplexed for a moment, then nodded.
"I'll prepare it. However, Your Excellency, it might be hard to hire models in their twenties."
"Why's that?"
"Once they're past their early twenties, they're all married housewives."
Ah!
I'd overlooked this era's peculiarities.
"You figure out how to handle that properly."
I trusted Lee Kyung-ho to manage it smoothly.
A week later, Lee Kyung-ho brought me a fresh, lively issue hot off the press.
It had that 1980s adult mag vibe—kinda tacky—but the presentation was decent enough.
"Looks like you rounded up a lot of housewives. Must've been tough."
"Actually, we brought in top-class gisaeng and shot them."
What?
Well, on second thought, in this era, who else would strip down and pose willingly besides courtesans?
Korea treated actresses like high-class whores anyway.
"Th-that's good work."
Whore or not, that wasn't the point.
The key was the arousing photos.
The compositions were a bit dated, but they'd selected beautiful women, and the actresses' faces were appealing.
A solid 5 out of 10 for a magazine.
Not bad for a first go.
"From now on, this magazine's name is Beer. Beer needs to be supplied to the entire army, so make sure production keeps up without a hitch."
"Understood."
"Ah, hold on."
Looking at Beer, it left a slightly unsatisfying aftertaste.
The biggest eyesore was the girls' hairstyles.
Staring at those old-fashioned, prim dos killed my arousal on sight.
"Have the girls' hair styled more Western-style. You know?"
The perk of being a dictator: no need for detailed explanations.
A vague comment like that, and they got it perfectly.
"Yes. I'll make the arrangements."
I sent Lee Kyung-ho off and showed the proof copy of Beer to Jeong-gil and the soldiers around.
Their eyes lit up like fireworks.
If someone tried to flip past a page too quickly,
"Hey, Director. Still appreciating it here."
Rank ceased to exist.
I was convinced: this would work.
Hold on.
Did we have to use only Korean actresses?
Couldn't our Beer become a global brand like the world's Maxims?
"Get me Security Service."
I had Lee Jeong-yoon check if any Jewish or Russian call girls who'd entered the country could be recruited.
"Th-the First Lady might find out."
No.
This wasn't for climbing into my bed.
"Just check it out."
Three days later, a list landed on my desk.
"Whoa, whoa."
There were some surprisingly pretty ones.
Quite a few looked better than our gisaeng.
"You there."
"Yes, Prime Minister."
"Contact these girls and see if they can start working."
"Your Excellency. Are you sure this is okay?"
Damn it.
I'd told him it wasn't like that.
Instead of answering, I kicked Lee Jeong-yoon in the shin.
"You. Just do what you're told."
"Y-yes, sir."
Soon after, photos with the new girls arrived on my desk.
Now it finally had that real Beer flavor.
"Print 200,000 copies a month from now on."
I set an ambitious target.
Since we'd started, my goal was to dominate the Asian adult mag market.
Yes, this was war.
The first print run of Beer was shipped straight to the troops.
The army's reaction was electric.
"Long live the great Lee Sung-jun!"
"Ah, Max-juice. My throat's parched from His Excellency's hot love."
*Sniff.*
The soldiers' enthusiasm was so intense that the military requested faster rollout of Beer supplies.
"This might even justify incentives for our actresses. Make sure their paychecks are fat."
"Will do."
And so Beer began its meteoric rise.
Before long, Korean troops overseas were trading copies with foreign soldiers.
"Your Excellency, I never imagined something like Beer would be this popular."
Me neither.
We'd ramped up to 200,000 copies, and they were still screaming for more at the front.
Word was, civilians were quietly getting their hands on copies too.
"Can't we just add more printing presses?"
"Wartime labor laws restrict hiring for non-essential fields like printing."
"Is that so?"
I immediately revised the rules.
"Beer is a military supply."
With Beer classified as war materiel, production would face no obstacles.
The era of erotic scrolls was over.
The Korean Empire was now living in the age of Beer.