Chapter 97
Chapter 97
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Conditions of the Superman (2)
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“The great leader of our motherland, His Excellency Yi Seong-jun, has come to inspect the site. Let us give him a thunderous round of applause to welcome him.”
At the agitator’s prompting, the crowd burst into applause.
“Woo! Long live Prime Minister! Long live the leader of the nation!”
Half of them were plainclothes cops.
Truth be told, my popularity in the cities wasn’t all that great.
This Yi Seong-jun was the enemy of democracy, hated by the middle class.
That made it all the more necessary to win over those enemies.
Especially considering the existence of the mubu, that potential hostile class.
“Your Excellency, if you sit there, your suit will get dirty.”
I appreciated the concern, but
“It’s fine.”
I plopped my butt down on the filthy chair.
In truth, this was just me imitating what I’d seen modern politicians do on the news.
But the people, unaccustomed to this 21st-century advanced politics, were shocked.
I slurped down a bowl of oden stew and munched on some blood sausage with relish.
“Mother, this is delicious. Could I get some packed to take back for the staff at the residence?”
“Of course, absolutely.”
Lee Jung-yoon gave a knowing signal, and reporters snapped photos from afar.
Snap snap.
Hmm, with that, the purpose of the market visit was 140% achieved.
For lunch, we went to a nearby bean sprout soup restaurant and had some gukbap.
To ensure security, we turned away other customers but handed the owner a thick wad of cash.
“Sorry about this. But I was starving and couldn’t hold out.”
“No, Your Excellency. Just having you dine at our restaurant is a lifelong honor.”
“Ah, you all sit down too. This gukbap is hearty and delicious.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
We polished off our bowls in no time, then wandered the market, buying goods from vendors to give them a boost.
All those purchases were donated to local orphanages and such.
We photographed the whole process.
“Your Excellency, you’ve worked hard.”
“You’ve done the hard work. What did I do? Go rest.”
Everything I did officially in Daehan was fodder for propaganda.
A wartime leader working late into the night while checking on the people’s lives.
It was the epitome of an ideal leader.
Of course, it was mostly staged.
No one lives just to work.
You have to breathe too.
I wrestled with my wife in bed, took vacations, did everything I wanted.
I just didn’t advertise it.
Let’s call it a white lie.
I used this crafted image to deal with foreign correspondents.
“Your Excellency, there are rumors that the Security Command conducts secret torture. Is that true?”
“Haha, come on, reporter. How could we torture people? It’s all a misunderstanding.”
Those who came with preconceptions of a brutal military dictator or bloodthirsty warmonger often warmed to my human touch unexpectedly.
This was a technique I’d learned from my esteemed predecessor, Chairman Mao Zedong.
Mao had charmed Edgar Snow this way, getting him to write Red Star Over China, a masterpiece of propaganda.
I treated journalists as equals in the same vein.
Not out of genuine respect, but hoping they’d package me well.
“Your Excellency, I had no idea you were so reasonable.”
If that’s what you think, you’re mistaken.
I tailored it that way.
So how did I relieve the stress from all this effort?
With exercise.
I went jogging morning and evening.
Gotta live long to buy time to fix Daehan.
Of course, while I was at it, I decided to tweak the Daehan Empire’s exercise routine too.
“Begin the Yi Seong-jun calisthenics.”
Every morning at 7 a.m., the whole nation gathered in open spaces to warm up to the radio broadcast. It had become routine.
I was tempted to implement something like Chun Doo-hwan’s 3S policy, but that was pushing it.
Spending money on sports during wartime was too much.
Instead, I ramped up beer distribution for the “sex” part,
“Your Excellency, sob sob.”
and increased investment in the film industry.
Investing in movies during war might seem silly, but it was legitimate propaganda.
I had Jews and Russians wear shoddy German uniforms and lose to our proud Daehan soldiers.
“Argh, the glorious National Army is liberating Europe.”
I slipped in scenes of beautiful Western women embracing and kissing our soldiers in thanks.
Sure enough, the troops felt fired up about liberating Europe.
The power of film was a boon to the war effort.
But my achievements didn’t stop there.
“Distribute instant noodles.”
“Pardon?”
“Fry the noodles, dry them, make something you can eat like that.”
My memory wasn’t precise, so I gave vague instructions to just try it.
“U-understood.”
We developed fried chicken too.
To be accurate, we stole the recipe from American blacks.
“F-fry chicken?”
“Simmer some soy sauce and add it in.”
After countless trials and errors, the products emerged.
These foods were first issued to the military.
The response was enthusiastic.
“Your Excellency! Sob sob. My mouth’s stealing food without me knowing.”
We expanded broadcasting too.
Added radio dramas to the music programs.
The content was
“Grand Palace.”
A palace romance where a court lady named Jang Yeon from the imperial kitchen has a fling with His Majesty the Emperor while preparing food.
Using the imperial family as subject matter, it should’ve been taboo.
But I allowed it.
“Ah, does being imperial make bullets bounce off?”
I planned to consciously erode the cult of the imperial family bit by bit.
‘It’s an eyesore they survived in this pseudo-Japanese emperor system to begin with.’
Moreover, the imperial family still held near-absolute monarchical powers legally; if a monarch revived dormant laws, it could spell trouble.
To prevent that, I needed to drag the imperial family down from the heavens to the dirt.
So I attacked them whenever I could.
“Imperial scum! Caught in another scandal!”
For those offending imperial family members, I made examples by loading them onto planes and dumping them in the Pacific.
The Chiang Kai-shek method from Taiwan days for corruption suspects.
“Ah, no. Aren’t you imperial too, Prime Minister? How can you do this to kin?”
There were protests, but hey, who commits crimes in Daehan?
Cracking down on corruption, investing in culture, developing food.
Seems like a lot, but it still wasn’t enough.
To justify Yi Seong-jun crushing the people with violence from above, I needed more achievements.
“Nothing beats something flashy to show the people.”
I started selling dreams again.
“Yi Seong-jun’s second term. A chicken in every pot, two cars in every garage. I’ll make the people’s dreams come true.”
Of course, pie in the sky.
How could that happen overnight?
It was propaganda that those were our national goals.
Don’t mistake it for empty nitrogen-cookie packaging.
I actually planned to do it.
Just didn’t know if in 10 or 15 years.
Anyway, even in wartime, I steadily showed the people tangible improvements in daily life.
Made them feel it.
The result?
“Your Excellency, the local election turnout exceeded 80%.”
That was expected.
I’d put in some real effort.
Even the cities showed strong support.
Considering the wartime rally around the leader, it was on another level from before.
Now politics was starting to feel fun.
In that vein, time to reform politics a bit.
Not parties.
Time to operate on the uselessly bloated imperial family.
I started with the massively overgrown Imperial Household Department.
“Y-Your Excellency, no. The Imperial Household Department is a traditional institution of the Daehan Empire.”
“Hey!”
“Yes.”
“I said I’m doing it. Quit the backtalk.”
I crushed the Imperial Household Department by force.
Seized their assets, used for imperial indulgences, and handed them straight to the Ministry of Finance.
“But then what will We eat and live on?”
The newly enthroned young emperor threw a tantrum.
“The Ministry of Finance will provide an annual stipend to maintain imperial dignity.”
A pittance.
Exactly like modern Japan’s imperial household level.
If they accepted that, I’d let them live as tourist attractions.
The imperial family pushed back hard, but I ignored them all.
“If the imperial side tries any media games, give them a taste regardless of status.”
“Understood.”
I was slowly remaking this Daehan from head to toe to my liking.
Whether it ended as North Korea or South Korea was unknown, but I had a goal.
‘At least, make it a country where people can live.’
That’s what makes Yi Seong-jun’s revolution to seize Daehan’s throne worthwhile.
As a power-holder, I wanted to leave something behind.
Not vain fame.
A legacy.
I wanted achievements the Daehan Empire’s people would remember.
That’s all I desired.
In that sense, Hitler was laughable.
Had he not sunk into the mire of the Eastern Front, Hitler would’ve been remembered as a great German chancellor succeeding Bismarck. But he got hooked on gambling.
The moment he forgot not to gamble with a nation, he lost his qualifications as a leader.
Übermensch?
Be a proper leader first.
I sneered at Hitler.