Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Opportunity (2)
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‘Lee Seong-jun is the leader prepared to save this country.’
That was the prevailing sentiment among most of the reformist officers in the Korean military.
It wasn’t that they were following me in hopes of some handout or easy gains.
What had won them over was the vision I had laid out for the future of the Empire of Korea.
No leader had ever spelled out concrete plans for changing the empire until now.
Politicians were too busy pandering to the military, and the top brass couldn’t care less about the people’s livelihood.
All they knew was war or bribes.
In contrast, through my newspaper columns and books, I had openly shared my thoughts and ideals.
And even though it was ‘image’ politics, my personal character shone through as well.
Risking dangers on the battlefield that no commander needed to face, leading by example—those displays had cemented their admiration for me.
Now it was time to reap the harvest.
I decided to start with my closest aide, Captain Kim Jeong-gil.
I shifted from vague hints to more concrete propositions.
“Captain Kim. What do you think of this country?”
“It’s my homeland, sir.”
Jeong-gil dodged a direct answer.
A soldier’s prudent way of navigating the world.
But it wasn’t the response I wanted.
I decided to prod him further.
“I see this country as corrupt and incompetent.”
Jeong-gil looked flustered at my words.
Who could have imagined a high-ranking general saying something like that outright?
“Someone has to change it.”
Ignoring his unease, I pressed on.
“If I, Lee Seong-jun, set out to change this country, would you help me, Captain Kim?”
“How could I possibly help you, sir? I’m just an ignorant soldier.”
“No. If you stand by me, it’ll feel like I’ve gained an army of a million.”
“Sir.”
“I have a dream. I want to make our Korea as prosperous and strong as America. To do that, I need to rise to the top.”
“Such lofty dreams are beyond my ability to assist, sir.”
“No, Captain. I need you. I, Lee Seong-jun, am counting on your help for our homeland. Stand by my side for Korea. I promise I won’t let you down.”
I bowed my head before Jeong-gil.
A high-ranking general bowing like that—it was a perfect performance, even by my own standards.
Jeong-gil hesitated for a long moment before bowing back to me.
“If a nobody like me can be of any use to you, sir, I’ll do what little I can. What would you have me do?”
“We need to prepare to overthrow this country. You’ll have plenty to do ahead.”
I patted Jeong-gil’s shoulder.
And so, my first comrade was born.
Starting with Jeong-gil, I arranged meals with senior officers.
Meeting so many high-ranking officers in such a short time would surely catch the security service’s eye, but I didn’t care.
Even if those bastards found out, they couldn’t touch me easily—I was the leader of the reformists.
I summoned them one by one to my official residence for dinners.
I had already analyzed their dispositions before inviting them.
They were the outliers who mingled with reformist officers.
Some had no prospects for promotion, others were sidelined to dead-end posts after falling out of favor with the top echelons.
Elite field-grade officers were rare to begin with among those shuffling through prison guard units or reserve divisions.
I subtly tapped into their grievances.
“You’re right, sir. The military doesn’t know how to use people.”
“It’s not entirely the army’s fault. It’s on those handling ‘personnel management.’”
After venting just enough about the upper brass, the conversation naturally turned to the nation’s future.
The country was at war, after all—how could it not?
“With the economy in shambles and now war with China, it’s a disaster. Last year’s national budget was in the red already. Who knows if we’ll even get paid at this rate.”
“It’ll only get worse.”
“Worse? Worse than in the middle of a war?”
“We’re at war with China, aren’t we? What kind of country is China? A hub of the great powers’ interests. We’ve poked that hornet’s nest and turned it into a battlefield—do you think the powers will let us off easy?”
“But they won’t turn on Korea just over China.”
“That’s what everyone thinks at first. Look at how World War I started. ‘If I mobilize, they’ll back down. One ultimatum and they’ll fold.’ All that pride, and it ground tens of millions into dust. Nothing’s impossible. People just turn a blind eye.”
I painted a dire picture of the future to heighten their sense of crisis.
I was already known as a ‘polemicist’ for my essays proposing policies and visions.
When I offered ‘predictions,’ the officers reacted with intense alarm.
“If things go that way, what happens to Korea?”
“We’d wither away. What if America cuts off scrap metal and oil exports? What if Britain and the Netherlands control the rubber?”
By then, they’d all fall into serious contemplation.
“So, the only way for our Korea to survive is to make peace with China somehow.”
“Make peace. Is that really our only option?”
“It is.”
But the officers knew the answer too.
The military regime that started the war had zero chance of seeking peace.
Any terms China might accept would spark massive backlash at home.
Could a regime already unpopular enough stomach that?
“What if we win the war?”
“Possible, sure. But bending China through war would be incredibly tough for us. And this corrupt, inept regime winning it? Unlikely.”
“Even so, there’s nothing we can do.”
“There is. If you join me, Lee Seong-jun, in changing the country, opportunities abound.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Why couldn’t we do what Park Han-jin did?”
As the saying goes: success makes a king, failure makes a rebel.
Succeed like Park Han-jin, and the honey would flow your way.
I promised rewards bluntly.
Of course, a mere promise wouldn’t sway them.
What truly shook them was worry over the nation’s fate and the vision I offered.
If we continued like this, the country was doomed.
Better to join hands with me and set it right.
“I promise you this. The day I, Lee Seong-jun, reach the highest seat, you’ll be my wings in the military, standing firm.”
“We’ll serve you, sir.”
I won over the senior officers from the 16th and 17th Reserve Divisions and the prison guard units, turning them into my hands and feet.
I didn’t even consider the junior officers in those units.
Those reformist types? The moment they heard Lee Seong-jun had rebelled, they’d follow coup orders without question.
“Aide!”
“Yes, General.”
“Make sure the roster of our ‘Unity Society’ members doesn’t leak. Guard it tightly.”
“Understood.”
I even formed a clandestine organization strictly forbidden in the military.
Its name: Unity Society.
Modeled after the Hanahoe that sparked the 12.12 coup.
The name alone signaled our intent to launch a coup.
Now, the organization was in place, and recruitment was proceeding smoothly.
So, what came next?
Capital.
You might ask why a coup needs money, but it does.
Common sense: the coup forces need fuel for movement, vehicles, bribes for buy-ins—the government doesn’t foot that bill.
It all has to come from somewhere.
I’d been covering it with my manuscript fees so far, but as coup activities ramped up, the costs would skyrocket.
Only capitalists could provide that kind of cash.
I began scouting business leaders sympathetic to a coup.
‘For now, the chaebols are hostile to the military.’
I’d gleaned that from webtoons and life here.
The chaebols’ beef with the military was simple: money.
The one place in the empire where cash flowed freely was the military, and they monopolized it.
Ships, cannons, tanks—all military procurement went through the army’s own arsenals.
The chaebols could only salivate over the massive profits they were missing out on.
Even when lucky enough to snag a military contract, they had to grovel and bribe arsenal generals.
Under those conditions, liking the military would make you a masochist.
I ruled out Korea’s top ten chaebols first.
Even if they kept their distance from the military, their vast wealth made them risk-averse.
Through the presidents of JoongAng Ilbo, Dong-A Ilbo, and Chosun Ilbo, I checked out a few companies and identified ‘Taejeong Industries,’ a chaebol that had a grudge against Park Han-jin.
‘Taejeong Industries, huh. Feels familiar. Oh, right—these are those guys.’
If my memory served, Taejeong had backed one of the coups that fizzled out in ’39.
I decided to meet Taejeong’s chairman, Jo Tae-su, to secure coup funding.